On the day of our wedding, sunlight poured into the chapel as guests filled the pews and soft string music played. My nephew Leo, just nine, stood proudly beside me as ring bearer. Dressed in a tiny tux, his scarred face from a past dog attack didn’t dull his joy. My sister Sophie had flown in just for this moment, and Leo beamed like he belonged.

As Emily walked down the aisle, her parents, Patricia and Gerald, waved me over. Their faces were tight with urgency. “That boy needs to go,” Patricia whispered harshly. “He’s scaring the other children—and he’ll ruin the pictures.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They wanted me to remove Leo because of his scars.

I started to respond, but Leo had already overheard. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice small. I knelt beside him and whispered, “You did nothing wrong, buddy.” Rage and heartbreak tangled in my chest. I stood up, ready to defend him, but Emily’s voice cut through the chapel. “Are you seriously asking Jack to kick a child out of our wedding?”

Emily stood by my side, eyes blazing. “Leo is family now. You should be ashamed.” Her parents fumed, but she didn’t waver. “You should leave. Leo stays.” They stormed out.

Emily crouched beside Leo and smiled. “Let’s start over.” The music began again. She walked down the aisle a second time—this time, perfectly. We got married, surrounded by the people who truly mattered.

And Leo? He danced with us all night, grinning ear to ear.