"No," I replied. "How dare you walk into my wedding after nineteen years and say you dreamed of this day?"
The room was completely still.
“You didn’t dream of this day,” I continued. “Grandpa did. Grandpa stayed. Grandpa raised us. Grandpa worked until his hands shook and then came home to cook dinner for seven children. Grandpa hugged us when we cried for you. Grandpa protected your names even when you didn’t deserve it.”
My parents looked at my grandfather.
Then they looked at the guests.
Nobody defended them.
Noah stepped forward, crying.
"Grandfather never turned us against him," he said. "He protected his name. You yourselves destroyed it."
My mother's lips trembled, but she had no answer.
I closed the box.
"I'm not doing this to ruin my wedding," I said. "I'm doing it because today I won't allow a lie to sit at my table."
Then I turned to my grandfather and extended my hand to him.
"Grandpa," I whispered, "will you walk me down the aisle?"
