At 73, I had one last dream: to see my granddaughter, Lily, walk down the aisle in a beautiful dress, surrounded by family and friends. I had saved every penny, sacrificing my own comfort, to give her the wedding of her dreams. It was a significant amount, $38,000, but she was my princess, and I wanted her to have the best.
For the past year, I had been deeply involved in the wedding planning. We picked out the dress together, sampled different cake flavors, and discussed flower arrangements. I was filled with joy, knowing I was playing a part in making her special day perfect.
But that dream was shattered one morning with a single message in our family group chat. Lily had eloped. No grand celebration, no family gathering, nothing. I felt a pang of betrayal. She let me believe I’d be part of her special day, but instead, she chose to run off without a word.
I couldn’t believe it. Lily had always been the apple of my eye, and I worshipped the ground she walked on. My first thought, after the initial shock, was the $38,000 I had given her. Where did all that money go if there was no wedding? I needed to know.
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