His Sister, His Choice: My Freedom

g in the center of a swirl of blue frosting. Linda dimmed the gallery lights, and everyone gathered around the table where Mark was now holding

s small hand reaching out. I looked at Mark, who was smiling down at him. In this small bubble of light, we

his candle. "Make a wish, sweetie,"

l notes of the song. "I wish he grows up to look a little more like Mark

a vile, calculated insinuation, thrown into the most sacred moment of the day. The silence that

had cultivated for years, the peace I had tr

e low and shaking with a rag

gned shock

er this time. I took a step toward her, my hands clenche

g the victim. Tears welled up in her

ou have to be so hysterical? You' re ruining everyt

her brother. "Mark, are you goin

e ultimate test. Me or her. His wife and child, or

rom me to his crying sister, then

and authoritative. "You are making a scene. Brenda

miling faces of our friends had turned to masks of pity and disbelief. He had not only failed to defend me

uldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really the man I

e demanded, his voice

r me. This marriage was a lie. My sense of security was an illusion. In his world, I would always come

ng I would never be able to take

steady. She put a hand on my arm, a silent anchor in the storm. "The par

tark contrast to the raw, ugly family drama that had just unfolded. Mark stood