I should have seen the betrayal coming. The sideways glances when I mentioned Walter’s name. The barely concealed eye rolls when I talked about our wedding plans. But nothing prepared me for the morning I woke up to find Mia packing my things.
“You’re serious?” I asked, my voice trembling. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
Mia couldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s just… not appropriate, Grandma. You’re too old for this.”
Walter’s photography studio became my sanctuary in those dark days. As we planned our counterattack, he taught me how to channel my pain into purpose. “We’ll show her what real love looks like,” he promised, adjusting his camera lens.
The night of the exhibition changed everything. When our wedding photos flashed on the big screen – images so vibrant they seemed to pulse with life – the audience erupted in applause. But the real victory came when Mia, humbled and ashamed, finally understood what she’d almost destroyed. Our reconciliation dinner that night tasted sweeter than any meal I’d had in years.
