Allow me to introduce you to my son, Ryan. Like any other kid, he experienced ups and downs, late-night study sessions, and the occasional party during his time in college.

However, it was during his senior year that he revealed to me something shocking that would permanently alter the way our family lived dynamic. Shelly, Ryan’s girlfriend, told me she was expecting a child.

Ryan is a decent young man now; he’s responsible, compassionate, and a little innocent when it comes to things of the heart. I therefore immediately wanted to make sure he wasn’t entering a scenario blindly when he broke the news to me. To be safe, I advised getting a DNA test done. Ryan, god bless him, completed the test after taking the advice to heart. Upon receiving confirmation of his paternity, he jumped at the chance to support Shelly and enter into a formal relationship.

I knew from the moment I met Shelly that things would not go well between us. She came up to me about the DNA test and said I was making assumptions about her. Although I attempted to clarify that it was merely a precaution and a typical counsel I would offer in a similar circumstance, the harm had already been done. Our relationship never got off to a good start, and even when she was accepted into the family, things never got better. For the sake of peace, I made the decision to keep my distance, being polite during family gatherings but not more.

After some time, Ryan and Shelly’s romance developed into a proposal. That’s when everything started to go south. For reasons only she knew, Shelly started disparaging me to everybody who would listen. She twisted my words and deeds into something evil in order to portray me as this villain. It seemed as though she was determined to incite my own family against me, and the awful thing is, it was succeeding. Being torn between his mother and his prospective spouse, my son felt compelled to take a stand. He threatened to exclude me from Shelly’s wedding unless I apologized to her for something I had never said or done. I found myself in an awkward situation. Admitting culpability to lies and slander would entail apologizing for things I hadn’t done, but sticking to my guns risked missing one of my son’s most significant days. Ultimately, I declined to apologize for transgressions I hadn’t committed in order to uphold my integrity.

I was therefore not invited to the wedding. Friends and relatives abandoned me, taking Shelly’s stories at face value, and the consequence was swift and severe. It was a solitary period marked by introspection and wondering where things went wrong. Then, two weeks prior to the wedding, I got a call out of the blue that would make matters much more chaotic. It was Jen, Shelly’s mother, a person I had hardly spoken to because of my tense relationship with her daughter. Her tone was nervous and filled with a sense of haste that instantly made me feel uneasy. Hello. It’s crucial, so get in your car and head over to me.