First, Tyler with his mother, then Gabriella with her father.
Tyler looked relaxed and confident, like a man who believed consequences were for other people.
Finally, the lights dimmed for the newlyweds’ first dance.
They spun beneath the spotlights, smiling like they’d rewritten fate.
And then the music cut.
“I’m here to witness it.”
At first, everyone laughed awkwardly. Someone clinked a glass.
The DJ cleared his throat and made an announcement that sent a gasp through the room, and then there was complete silence.
“Before the first dance continues,” he said carefully, “there’s a special request from the groom’s ex-wife.”
Every eye turned to the bride and groom, and then to me.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.
Because for the first time since my divorce, I wasn’t the one about to be embarrassed.
Someone clinked a glass.
A ripple of confusion moved across the ballroom.
Then the massive screen behind the dance floor flickered to life.
The first image appeared.
A screenshot of a text message from Tyler.
“I’m barely getting by. I can’t afford full child support right now.”
The date glowed clearly at the top, showing that the message was sent months before the wed
