“Maybe just one—”
“Grant, we have a schedule.”
And just like that, he stopped talking.
The photographer looked uncomfortable.
I forced myself to smile.
“It’s okay,” I told Grant.
But it wasn’t.
I had imagined having that photograph with my son for months.
Dinner made things even more noticeable.
Grant started telling his uncle about their honeymoon plans.
He barely finished a sentence before Vanessa interrupted.
“No, honey. That isn’t what we’re doing anymore. Remember?”
Several people laughed.
Grant laughed too.
But I knew my son.
I saw his face
