For a few seconds after my mother said she could not congratulate me for “defying God’s will,” no one moved.

be attacked in it.”

My mother stared at him as if he had slapped her.

“You choose them?” she asked.

My father looked tired. “No, Elena. I choose the truth.”

She grabbed her purse from the chair. “You will regret mocking God.”

Abuela Teresa’s voice cut through the room. “God does not need you to defend Him by wounding your daughter.”

My mother left without continue reading …