Sixty heads turned.
Her smile locked in place, then something behind her eyes changed, as if she were watching a horror show.
Slide three was Claire's line about boarding school. Foster care existing "for a reason."
Slide four. The laughing emojis, zoomed in until they looked cartoonishly cheerful.
I raised my glass again.
"To my fiancée, thank you for teaching me that adults show you who they are when they leave their phones face up."
Every guest froze in shock.
Then something behind her eyes changed.
I nodded at Isla.
"And to you, ma'am. Thank you for putting it in writing."
Claire's mouth opened.
"Ben, please, let me..."
"You had all the time to be your own person," I said. "Instead, you were your mother's rehearsal."
I turned back to the guests.
"Dessert's on me, folks. Nobody should suffer for what Isla built."
I walked out to the sound of chairs scraping and Isla shouting at a caterer to do something.
"Ben, please, let me..."
***
The following morning, Grace padded into the kitchen in mismatched socks.
"Where's Claire?"
I knelt to her height.
"Unfortunately, she wasn't the right person for us. I'm sorry I brought someone home who didn't love you the way you deserve."
Lily thought about it, chewing her toast.
"Where's Claire?"
"That's okay, Daddy. We already have you."
Grace nodded.
"And burned pancakes!"
We laughed, and I knew we'd always been whole all along.
