I Refused to Attend My Son’s Wedding—and Instead Spent the Day With His Ex-Wife

My 25-year-old son married a sweet 23-year-old woman named Tina. At first, everything looked perfect. They were young, hopeful, building a little life together. When their baby arrived—a bright-eyed boy—I thought their love would only grow stronger.

But then the cracks began to show.

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Slowly, almost casually, Tina started mentioning my son’s infidelity. At first, I thought she was joking or misunderstanding. But the more she spoke, the clearer it became: he had cheated. Not once, not twice, but multiple times—and she had proof.

I felt my face burn with shame. That was not how I raised him. I confronted Tina, apologized, and told her honestly: “If you ever want to leave him, I’ll support you. You deserve better.”

But Tina, gentle to a fault, forgave him. Again and again. I couldn’t understand why. She loved him, I suppose—or maybe she hoped he would change for the sake of their newborn.

Months later, the phone rang. It was my son—calm, casual, even cheerful. He told me he was filing for divorce. He had found someone new, someone “better.” Tina was left alone with a one-year-old, scraping by in a tiny rented room, working every spare hour just to survive.

Then he called again—this time to invite us to his wedding.

I asked him why he had cheated in the first place. He laughed.

“Well, Tina is great,” he said lightly, “but I deserve someone better.”

The cruelty. The arrogance. Something inside me shattered. I hung up without another word.

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On the day of his wedding, my husband and I drove somewhere else entirely: to Tina’s doorstep. She answered holding her crying baby, pale with exhaustion. The room she rented was cramped, old, and unbearably quiet except for the baby’s wails.

I rolled up my sleeves. We helped with chores, rocked the baby to sleep, brought cookies and cake—small comforts, but sincere.

When my son called, demanding to know where we were, I said simply:

“I’m at your ex-wife’s house. You were a terrible husband, and I’m ashamed of you.”

He hung up, furious. He hasn’t spoken to us since.

Sometimes I wonder if I overreacted. But then I look at Tina—tired, hurting, yet still trying her best—and I think… maybe I didn’t react enough.