“It would be special because you two love each other, not because everyone’s hair matches,” I countered.
But my brother just looked away.
Our grandmother, Betty, now 82, had raised Liam and me after our parents died when I was 12 and he was 10. She gave up everything to be there for us. My brother has always been incredibly close to her.
So, when he proposed to Chloe, his only real request was that Grandma have a front-row seat at the wedding. He wanted her to see him get married. That meant everything.
Chloe promised to make sure our grandma was honored. But that was before things changed.
Nine months before the wedding, Grandma’s health started declining. She developed mobility issues, and her doctor recommended a wheelchair for longer outings. It was supposed to be temporary.
I was at Grandma’s apartment helping her adjust the cushion on her chair when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe asking me to meet her at a coffee shop. I didn’t want to go, but I went.
“I need to talk to you about something sensitive,” Chloe said, stirring her latte without looking at me. Her phone was face down on the table, a rare occurrence.
“Okay,” I said, already knowing whatever was coming wouldn’t be good.
“It’s about Betty’s situation. The wheelchair thing.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“I’ve been thinking about the wedding day, and the look is quite specific. Like a dream sequence, you know? And a wheelchair in the photos would, really…”
I stood up.
“No,” I said. “Absolutely not!”
“Sarah, sit down. You’re being emotional.”
I sat back down because I needed her to hear me clearly.
“Grandma Betty raised us. She lost her husband, career, and her freedom to take care of Liam and me after our parents died. She’s been there for every single important moment of our lives. And you want to hide her wheelchair because it doesn’t fit your Instagram expectations?”
Chloe’s face went cold.
