I Sold My House to Pay for My Grandson’s Dream Wedding – Then I Learned I Wasn’t Even Invited

Family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances watched her in stunned silence. One woman covered her mouth.

Someone else shook their head.

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

“That’s his grandmother?” someone whispered.

Vanessa’s face drained of color.

“This — this isn’t what it sounds like,” she said quickly, spinning back to Noah. “They weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“You were ashamed of her,” he said.

“I was trying to protect us,” Vanessa insisted. “Our image.

Our future.”

Vanessa reached for his arm. “Noah, please. We can fix this.

We can talk about it later.”

He stepped back.

“No, we can’t.”

Noah looked around at the guests, then back at the entrance, the flowers, the decorations I’d paid for.

Gasps. Someone dropped a program.

Vanessa stared at him. “You don’t mean that.”

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