Dad looked out the window. He was silent for a long time before he spoke.
"You haven't humiliated us. Letting our daughter be mistreated and then forcing her to go through with the wedding—that would be the real humiliation."
Mom held me close.
"Emma, it's okay. You can call off the wedding. You'll always have a home to come back to."
At that, I finally began to sob.
When we got home, I didn't check my phone or ask what had happened at the hotel.
I changed out of my casual white clothes, shut myself in my room, and slept for 8 hours straight.
At 2 a.m., I woke up thirsty.
A small lamp was on in the living room.
Dad sat on the couch, my wedding dress neatly laid out beside him.
Head bowed, he was slowly piecing the speech he had torn up back together with clear tape.
When he saw
