I Was Seated Alone at My Son’s Wedding — Then a Stranger Said ‘Act Like You’re With Me’

Theo’s hand found mine under the table, a gentle squeeze of approval that sent warmth through my entire body.

“So, Mr. Black Theodore.”

Brandon corrected himself quickly.

“Mom mentioned you two have a history together.”

“She’s been quite mysterious about the details.”

“Not mysterious,” I said, enjoying myself immensely.

“Selective.”

“After all, children don’t really want to hear about their parents’ romantic past, do they?”

The word romantic hit the table like a small explosion.

Viven’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, and Brandon looked like he’d swallowed something unpleasant.

“Romantic?”

Brandon repeated faintly.

“Oh yes,” Theo said, his voice warm with memory.

“Your mother and I were quite serious once upon a time.”

“We had plans, dreams, a whole future mapped out together.”

“What happened?”

Viven asked, her journalist instincts overriding her social grace.

Theo’s expression grew darker.

“Elan’s mother happened.”

“She decided I wasn’t suitable for her daughter, despite the fact that Elellanar and I were desperately in love.”

“When I left for London on a business program, she intercepted every letter I sent, every attempt I made to contact Elellanar.”

“She what?”

Brandon’s voice was sharp with shock.

“Grandmother intercepted your letters.”

I could see Brandon’s legal mind working, cataloging the implications of this revelation.

“Every single one,” I confirmed.

“For 2 years, Theo tried to reach me.”

“For 2 years, I thought he’d simply moved on and forgotten about me.”

“By the time he hired investigators to find me, I was already married to your father.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken questions.

I could practically see the gears turning in both their heads, recalculating timelines, reconsidering assumptions about their family history.

“I loved your father,” I said firmly, addressing the question I knew Brandon was afraid to ask.

“Robert was a good man, and we had a solid marriage, but it wasn’t the same as what Theo and I had.”

“What exactly did you have?”

Viven’s question came out sharper than she’d probably intended.

Theo and I exchanged a look that carried 50 years of what if and might have been.

“Everything,” he said simply.

“He We had everything.”

The waiter appeared to take our orders, giving everyone a moment to process this information.