I pounded on the door and screamed until a janitor finally heard the commotion and let me out.
I checked the time. My flight was about to depart.
I hailed a cab and raced to the airport.
As I was boarding, Isabella called.
"Wilfred, where are you? Carrie's saying you ran out on the wedding! And that she's marrying Graham?"
Before I could answer, she caught the sound of the flight attendant announcing boarding information in the background.
"Wilfred, you're at the airport? Today is your wedding with Carrie—where are you going?"
"It's her wedding with Graham, not mine. It has nothing to do with me."
Isabella didn't even bother hanging up before turning on Carrie, demanding to know if she'd been mistreating me.
Carrie's voice rang out loud and clear:
"Mom, I'm carrying Graham's baby. You're going to be a grandmother soon."
I'd expected Isabella—who had been longing for a grandchild for years—to be thrilled by the news.
Instead, her voice exploded through the phone:
"Bullshit! That boy's been a eunuch since he was a kid! How the hell could you be carrying his child?"
