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

“I was planning to sit in the back, watch you be proud of your boy, and maybe work up the courage to approach you afterward.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“But when I saw how they were treating you, well, I couldn’t just sit there and watch.”

That’s when we heard Brandon’s voice behind us, sharp with panic and something that might have been anger.

“Mother, we need to talk now.”

Brandon approached us with Viven at his side, both of them looking like they just witnessed a natural disaster.

My new daughter-in-law’s wedding glow had been replaced by an expression of barely controlled panic, while Brandon’s face had gone from pale to flushed in the span of our garden conversation.

“Brandon,” I said pleasantly, not releasing Theo’s arm, “shouldn’t you be greeting your other guests? I’m sure the Ashworths are wondering where the groom has disappeared to.”

“Who is this man?”

Vivien demanded.

Her voice pitched just low enough to avoid causing a scene, but sharp enough to draw blood.

Her perfect composure was cracking, and it was a beautiful thing to witness.

Theo stepped forward with the kind of easy confidence that comes from never having to worry about impressing anyone.

“Theodore Blackwood,” he said, extending his hand to Brandon.

“I should have introduced myself sooner, but I was caught up in the pleasure of seeing your mother again after so many years.”

Brandon shook the offered hand automatically, his lawyer’s training kicking in even as confusion clouded his features.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwood, but I don’t believe my mother has mentioned you, hasn’t she?”

Theo’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.

“How interesting.”

“Eleanor and I have quite a history together, don’t we, darling?”

The casual endearment made Vivien’s eyes narrow to slits.

I could practically see her mental calculator working, trying to figure out who this man was and what his presence meant for her carefully orchestrated social debut as Brandon’s wife.

“What kind of history?”

Brandon’s voice had taken on the edge it got when he was cross-examining a witness.

20 years of marriage to a trial lawyer had taught me to recognize that tone.

Theo’s smile never wavered.

“The kind that matters most.”

“Your mother and I were quite serious once upon a time before she met your father.”