On my wedding day, I found the main table replaced — 9 seats taken by my husband’s family while my parents were left standing.

“Somewhere less noticeable,” she replied. “They look poor.”

Several guests laughed softly behind folded napkins.

Elena turned instinctively toward Victor, waiting for him to stop this.

He stood beside his mother in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, handsome and polished and suddenly unrecognizable.

Victor lowered his voice.

“Don’t create a scene, Elena,” he murmured. “Mom’s right. Optics matter today.”

Her mother blinked rapidly, trying not to cry.

Her father lowered his eyes toward the floor.

And something inside Elena changed.