When my fiancée started planning our wedding, I thought the hardest part would be choosing between cake flavors and venues. I never imagined the real battle would be over the one person who mattered most to me — my daughter. I never imagined that planning a wedding, the supposed celebration of love and unity, could leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about the woman I was about to marry.
At 45, I wasn’t naïve about relationships anymore. I’d been married before, lived through the heartbreak of divorce, and was blessed with the brightest spot in my life: my 11-year-old daughter, Paige. Paige was my anchor; she’s smart, funny in a way that catches you off guard, and stronger than most adults I know.
The divorce had been hard on her, but she handled it with a resilience that amazed me. Her mom and I managed to split amicably, sharing custody evenly, and I swore to myself that no matter what happened in my life, Paige would never feel like she came second to anyone. When I met Sarah, my now ex-fiancée, she seemed like the perfect addition to our little world.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
