My Mother Slapped My Six-Year-Old Over a Missing Family Ring—Then My Son Pointed at the Groom and the Ring Fell From His Pocket
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Chapter 23 / 27
Chapter 23 - Gwendolyn asks the hardest question
Months later, my sister came to dinner.
Percival was asleep.
She asked:
“Do you blame me?”
“For what?”
“I stood beside Mom.”
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“I thought he took it.”
“He was six.”
“I know.”
“You wanted your wedding saved.”
“Yes.”
There.
Honest.
She had looked at the situation and chosen the explanation that preserved the ceremony.
Child steals ring?
Bad.
But solvable.
Groom steals ring?
Wedding ends.
Her mind selected the cheaper truth.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For Percival?”
“Yes.”
“Tell him when you can do it without asking him to make you feel better.”
May you like
She nodded.
Months later, she did.
