“Excuse me, ma’am… are you part of the cleaning staff?”
The grand ballroom sparkled with chandeliers and crystal glassware. Guests in glittering gowns and tailored suits laughed over champagne.
Linda, holding her tiny invitation, took a tentative step inside.
A young event coordinator quickly intercepted her, brows furrowed.
“I’m sorry, ma’am… are you part of the cleaning crew?”
Linda froze. “No,” she said softly. “I’m the groom’s mother.”
The woman blinked in embarrassment, then smiled awkwardly.
“Oh— I see. You can sit… over there. Near the catering station. It’s less crowded.”
Linda followed her gaze. The table she pointed to was by the kitchen door — where waiters rested between serving rounds.
She smiled faintly. “Thank you,” she whispered, and quietly took her seat.
From afar, she saw Daniel — laughing with guests, posing for photos beside Amelia.
Her heart warmed seeing her son so happy.
But then she noticed Amelia glance her way — her smile fading for just a second.
Amelia leaned toward the wedding planner and whispered:
“I didn’t know Daniel’s mother would come this early. Please… just keep her at the service tables for now, okay?”
Linda heard. Every word.
But she didn’t react.
She simply sat there, hands folded in her lap, pretending not to notice.
After all, it was Daniel’s big day — not the time to cause trouble.
