every line.”
I held up the page.
“You approved something that erased your own parents from your wedding photographs.”
He covered his face briefly.
“I know.”
“No,” I said quietly.
“I don’t think you did.”
Dad had returned from the podium by then.
He looked at the schedule, read the instructions, and handed the clipboard back to Elise.
He didn’t raise his voice.
“Son, did you think we would embarrass you?”
Theo shook his head immediately.
“No, Dad.
Never.”
“Then why didn’t you speak up?”
My brother stared at the floor.
“Because every time I disagreed with Camille or her parents, it became another fight.
The flowers were wrong.
The invitations were wrong.
The guests were wrong.
I kept thinking if I let this one thing go, we could finally be happy.”
Dad nodded slowly.
“And how many things did you have to let go before you stopped recognizing yourself?”
Theo didn’t answer.
Mom reached for his hand.
“You could have told us.”
He sat beside her.
“I should have.”
Across the room, Camille was speaking rapidly to her parents.
She kept glancing toward us.
Her expression shifted from embarrassment to anger.
Then she started walking in our direction.
PART FOUR — THE CONTRACT NOBODY WANTED TO DISCUSS
“This has gone far enough,” Camille announced when she reached our table.
Several guests nearby stopped pretending not to listen.
“Your father just humiliated my family in front of everyone.”
Theo stood.
“Camille, you humiliated my parents first.”
“I was trying to protect our reputation.”
“From what? My mother’s dress? My father’s jacket?”
She looked startled by his tone.
“You know how important appearances are in my parents’ business.”
“They’re important to you,” he replied.
“That’s the problem.”
Grant approached quickly, followed by Marjorie.
“Samuel,” he said, lowering his voice, “I think we should discuss this privately.
There are important business interests involved.”
Dad folded his arms.
“Then let’s keep business separate from the wedding.”
Grant motioned toward a small private lounge beyond the ballroom.
Dad agreed to speak with him, but only after checking with Mom.
“Will you be all right for a few minutes?”
She nodded.
I followed Dad into the lounge.
Theo came with us, while Camille and her parents entered behind.
The heavy wooden door closed, muffling the music outside.
Grant immediately abandoned his polite expression.
“Samuel, you know what your little announcement could do to our reputation.”
Dad looked at him.
“I told the truth about ownership.
Which part concerns you?”
Grant paced toward the window.
“We have a major investment proposal coming up.
Potential partners think our company controls the Lantern Foundry long-term.”
“Your company has a lease,” Dad answered.
“It has never owned the property.”
“That’s a technical distinction.”
“It’s a very important distinction.”
I knew there had been disagreements about the venue’s future, but I hadn’t realized how serious they’d become.
Dad explained that the Ashford company’s lease was due to expire the following February.
For several months, Grant had been pushing for a fifteen-year renewal that would give his company greater control over the waterfront property.
Dad and Mom had refused to sign immediately.
They wanted guarantees protecting the building, the public access walkway, and the employees who worked there.
There had also been complaints about unpaid overtime for contracted event staff.
An
