My Fiancée Wanted to Exclude My Adopted Daughter from the Wedding – When I Found Out Why, My Knees Went Weak

“Dad? Aren’t we going home?”

I shook my head, managing a smile. “Not yet, honey. How about ice cream for dinner?”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Seriously? On a school night?”

“Desperate times call for desperate sundaes.”

She buckled herself in, feet swinging. “Can I get extra Oreos on top?”

“You can get whatever you want.” My voice cracked a little, but she didn’t notice.

“Dad? Aren’t we going home?”

***

At the parlor, we slid into a red vinyl booth and ordered giant sundaes, and she chattered about school, about Abigail’s kitten, about how she was going to help decorate for the wedding even if she couldn’t be a flower girl.

I nodded, but inside I was spinning.

Nora was making me choose. My heart knew the answer, but my head kept searching for something else, a reason, a hope that there was more to it all.

Nora was making me choose.

Afterward, we went home.

Sarah changed into pajamas and cued up cartoons. She curled up beside me, eyes drooping. “Dad, do you think I’ll look pretty in whatever dress Nora picks for the wedding?”

My heart shattered.

Later, when she was asleep, my phone buzzed with a message from Brooke, Nora’s mother: “You’re being dramatic with this wedding business, Winston. Drop the girl. Her presence at the wedding isn’t necessary.”

I stared at the word, that cold ache in my chest deepening. Something had shifted. And I needed to know why.

“Drop the girl. Her presence at the wedding isn’t necessary.”