I stood frozen, humiliated, while the spotlight hit me and the music started. He didn’t budge. He chose her. Again. In front of everyone.
Then, someone stepped forward — my husband. He took my hand and said, “Let me have this dance.” And in that moment, I realized I hadn’t lost anything. I had everything I needed.
What my father didn’t know? My husband’s great-uncle, sitting quietly nearby, was also his regional manager. After watching everything unfold, he walked over and said calmly, “Don’t bother coming in on Monday.”
Elaine left him within the month. I haven’t spoken to my father since. But I did send him a photo — me and my husband, dancing beneath the lights, smiling through the pain, stronger than ever. And I’ve never had to ask anyone to choose me again.