I was sitting in the office, tired and exhausted. Outside the window, evening was slowly falling, and the sky was turning a deep blue color. The room was quiet — the only sounds were the hum of lamps and the tapping of the keyboard. I had been working on reports and spreadsheets for several hours; every movement was becoming more difficult.
As I was getting ready to leave, the door quietly opened — my boss, Michael, entered. He is almost fifty years old, always neatly dressed, and in his gaze, one could always sense seriousness and professionalism. Without a word, he placed a thick folder with new tasks on my desk.
— This must be ready by tomorrow morning — he said calmly.
I looked at the clock: it was almost eight in the evening.
— Michael, I have been working since morning — I tried to explain — it’s really hard for me…
He didn’t even blink.
— Work can’t wait.
He turned around, but as if he wanted to add something. He opened his mouth — and fell silent.
— Alright. Another time — he said calmly and left.
I leaned back in the chair, feeling the growing fatigue. “A little more, I think, soon everything will change.”
Later, as I got into the car, I heard the phone ring. On the screen appeared the name Aunt Jenny — my dear, talkative relative.
— Alisa! — she said cheerfully. — You didn’t forget that you’re taking me to the wedding, right?
— What wedding? — I asked, feeling my heart suddenly race.
— Well, the wedding of your mom! You know what I mean.
I froze. Mom… is getting married?
— Didn’t you know? — Aunt was surprised.
Not believing myself, I turned the car toward mom’s house.
She opened the door as if nothing had changed — wearing her favorite comfortable robe smelling of fresh tea and lilac. So warm and close, yet somewhat distant.
— Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re getting married? — I asked, trying to control my trembling voice.
She lowered her gaze.
— I wanted to tell you… I just didn’t know how.
— Am I at least invited?
She hesitated, then quietly shook her head.
— I thought it would be easier this way. You work so much already, I didn’t want to add more stress.
— I’m not a child, mom. I’m your daughter.
She looked at me — in her eyes there was guilt, sadness, and love. I couldn’t hold back and turned away to hide my tears. But deep inside, I already knew — I would be at that wedding.
Almost the whole day passed. I picked up Aunt Jenny — in her colorful hat and with her endless story. But I barely listened, my pounding heart consumed all my attention.
We arrived at the church. Mom looked beautiful in her light dress, slightly nervous but smiling. Next to her stood the groom.
Michael.
My boss.
I froze. He looked at me, and the whole room seemed to go still. Mom stood motionless.
— This isn’t your business — she whispered.
— Not mine? — I said in surprise. — You knew how hard it was for me to work with him!
Michael turned pale.
— Maybe I should leave? — he asked quietly.
— No.
But he was already heading for the exit.
I ran after him outside, where the wind tugged at his jacket.
— Michael — I called.
He turned around.
— You were right. I shouldn’t have come between you and your mom.
— No, I was the one who was wrong.
He looked at me in surprise.
— I saw potential in you, but sometimes I was wrong. I’m sorry.
— I was angry at you.
— Rightfully so.
— But I can’t decide who makes my mom happy.
— She was afraid of hurting you — he said.
— She wanted to protect me.
We were silent. Then I said:
— She needs you. And you need her.
He nodded, and we returned to the church together.
The ceremony began with a slight delay, but no one complained. I sat next to Aunt Jenny, who squeezed my hand.
When the doors opened, Michael had returned. Mom smiled in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. Joy shone in her eyes.
During the vows, she spoke his name with love and hope.
Michael, while speaking, looked straight at me:
— To Alisa. Thanks to her, I became a better man.
I held on to those words like a precious gift.
Later, during the festive dinner under string lights and the scent of homemade food, my mom hugged me.
— You’re not angry?
— No, you deserve this — I whispered.
She kissed my forehead.
— And so do you.
That evening, my mom got married.
But for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel alone.
I felt like I had found her again.
