The lights dimmed.
Our wedding photograph appeared on the large screen behind me.
We looked impossibly young. Daniel wore an inexpensive suit, and I held a small bouquet of flowers. Neither of us had any idea how complicated life would become.
The guests applauded warmly.
Then the next photograph appeared.
It showed our first family home.
Then came pictures of our children as babies, birthday celebrations, vacations, and family gatherings.
People laughed and wiped away tears.
Daniel relaxed.
He even leaned toward his colleague and whispered something that made the man chuckle.
Then the screen went black.
A new image appeared.
It was a screenshot of a message.
“Margaret suspects nothing. After forty years, she trusts me completely.”
The room fell silent.
Daniel stopped smiling.
The next message appeared.
“I hate pretending to be just your daughter’s friend. When will you finally tell her the truth about us?”
Someone gasped.
