I always thought my wedding day would end with happy tears, not heartbreak. More than anything, I wanted my dad, Daniel, to walk me down the aisle.
My dad raised me alone after my mother left when I was little. He braided my hair before school, worked nights, and sat beside me when I was sick.
He always said, “Your life will be better than mine. I’ll do everything to make sure of it.”
I always thought my wedding day would end with happy tears.
Julian, my fiancé, had only seen Dad a few times over video calls that kept freezing while we lived in Europe for three years. When we returned before the wedding, Dad missed the rehearsal dinner because of a fever.
Still, he smiled on the phone and said, “I’ll see him tomorrow, when I walk you to him.”
