I raised my son on a teacher’s salary, and I thought the hardest part was behind me. Then one rehearsal dinner showed me how little some people understand about sacrifice.

Mark heard it.

“Chloe,” he said, flat.

She gave that airy laugh of hers. “What? I meant people in general.”

Later, in the parking lot, I told him, “You don’t need to fight my battles.”

His jaw tightened. “Maybe I should start.”

Then came the rehearsal dinner.

Then she started talking about how “different” their families were.

It was at a country club so grand it looked staged. Chandeliers. Marble floors. Giant flower arrangements that probably cost more than my mortgage payment. I stood in the bathroom before dinner started and looked at myself in the mirror, smoothing my dress like that might make me belong there.

“You can do one night,” I told my reflection.

At first, people laughed. She teased Mark for being serious. Teased his work hours. Then she started talking about how “different” their families were.

A few people shifted in their seats.

“My parents always worried I was too spoiled,” she said, laughing. “Then I met Mark, and I realized some people really do know how to live on almost nothing.”

A few people shifted in their seats.

Chloe kept going.

“I mean, when we first talked wedding numbers, I almost died when I found out his mom has been teaching middle school for so long. On about 45 grand a year?” She laughed into the microphone. “My seasonal wardrobe costs more than that.”