For years, my family treated my single life like a problem they were all invited to solve. So, when my cousin’s wedding gave them another chance to pity me, I made one reckless choice. I hired a man to love me for an afternoon, never knowing my mother already knew him.
The moment my fake fiancé walked into my cousin’s wedding with me, my mother looked at him like she’d seen a ghost.
Then she whispered, “That’s impossible.”
I heard it.
So did he.
Michael’s hand went completely still.
My mother looked at him like she’d seen a ghost.
For a moment, I forgot he was an actor. I forgot I’d paid him for the afternoon.
All I could see was Mom losing color in the middle of a room she’d spent weeks trying to control.
And all I could think was, “Mom, what did you do?”
***
Six weeks earlier, I’d survived another family lunch where my love life was passed around like a sad little casserole.
At 42 years old, I’d made it through 16 Thanksgivings where everyone treated my singleness like a family emergency.
“Mom, what did you do?”
There was always one aunt asking if I was “still looking,” one uncle telling me I had “plenty of time,” and my mother, Tina, smiling like she was the only person brave enough to say the hard thing.
But it wasn’t Thanksgiving that finally broke me.
It was Beth’s wedding invitation.
Beth was my cousin, 28, sweet as peach pie, and marrying Preston, a dentist who looked like he flossed his thoughts. They seemed like a perfect match.
The invitation sat beside my plate while Mom watched me read it.
But it wasn’t Thanksgiving that finally broke me.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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