I approached them, feeling the weight of everything that had happened.
“Daniel, I didn’t expect things to go this far.”
He looked at me.
“You didn’t make her treat Grandma that way.”
“I know. But I did bring the cake across the dance floor.”
For the first time that evening, he gave a faint smile.
“And I was the one who put a hole in it.”
Grandma glanced toward her ruined masterpiece and released a weary sigh.
“Well, there are proper ways to cut a cake, you know.”
A few guests close enough to hear her laughed, and the tension in the room eased slightly. Even after being humiliated and watching her grandson’s wedding collapse, Grandma could still find something practical to say about her baking.
I looked at the delicate sugar flowers surrounding the damaged section. Most remained perfectly intact, each one a reminder of the hours Grandma had spent shaping petals despite the pain in her wrist.
