My Father Married My Aunt After My Mom Died — Then at the Wedding, My Brother Said, “Dad Isn’t Who He Pretends to Be”

“Would you help choose the flowers?”
“I thought you might want to see the venue.”

I declined every time.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Do whatever you want.”

Once, Dad pulled me aside. “You’re okay with this, right?”

I paused, then nodded. “If you’re happy, that’s what matters.”

His shoulders relaxed, as if he’d been forgiven for something I didn’t yet understand.

The wedding invitation arrived six weeks later. Small ceremony. Immediate family only. I stared at it for a long time. Mom’s name was nowhere—no mention, no acknowledgment of how little time had passed.

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