“This dance is for the one I’ve secretly loved all these ten years,” my husband announced at our wedding reception. He walked right past me, a phantom in a designer tuxedo, and invited my sister to dance. The entire room, a gilded cage of our city’s elite, erupted in applause. But then, I walked up to my father, who was sitting at the head table like a king on his throne, and asked one loud, clear question that made my husband choke and sent my sister to the emergency room.
