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

They hugged me together, both of them thanking me at once. Noah held on longer than usual.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered.

And I believed him. I really did.

On the wedding day, I put on my dress and arrived early.

I wanted to see everything before the ceremony started. The flowers. The lights.

The place my money had helped build.

At the entrance, the coordinator asked for my name.

“I’m Helen,” I said proudly. “The groom’s grandmother.”

He frowned at the list.

I smiled nervously. “There must be some mistake.”

He checked again.

Then a third time. Then he looked at me with apologetic eyes and shook his head.

They wouldn’t let me in.

I stood there for a moment, confused. My heart started beating faster.

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands.

I called Noah.

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