Ryan’s expression briefly softened.
Then he spoke.
“You always do this.”
“What?”
“You tell the part where somebody else made you leave.”
“Ryan…”
“You’re leaving out what happened after I found you.”
Apparently, their early meetings had gone well. Ryan had even considered inviting her to the wedding.
But she soon began demanding public recognition as his mother, a seat with the immediate family, professional photographs, and an invitation to the rehearsal dinner.
Ryan told her he wasn’t ready.
Instead of respecting his decision, she contacted Emma, David, and one of Ryan’s cousins.
Eventually, Ryan told her not to attend.
“I was trying to be part of your life,” she said.
“You were trying to skip 20 years and act like none of it happened.”
“I’m your mother.”
“You’re my biological mother.”
Her face crumpled. She turned toward me.
“You’re a mother. Tell him.”
