I attended the wedding of my son, whom I raised as a single father, but my nameplate said, «Low-educated fake dad……

I stood at the back of the luxurious ballroom, straightening my ill-fitting suit.

It was my son’s wedding day, a day I had dreamed about for two decades, ever since his mother walked out and left me to raise him on my own. I worked two jobs, fixed toilets during the day, delivered groceries at night. There were times we had no heat in winter, but I never let him go hungry, never missed a parent-teacher meeting.

And now, here we were. Hundreds of guests, chandeliers glowing, champagne flowing, and a six-tier cake that probably cost more than my monthly salary. I wasn’t comfortable in this world, but I was proud.

Until I saw the place card. At the family table, right beneath the golden father of the groom label, was my name, followed by a phrase someone had added in mock cursive with a gold pen, Low Educated Fake Dad. I blinked.

Surely, a joke? But then came the laughter, from the bride’s side. Her father, a retired university dean, snorted with a smug smile. Her mother covered her mouth, failing to suppress a giggle.

One of her cousins whispered something to another, and they both looked at me, and laughed louder. Heat rose up my neck. I looked around for my son, Jason.

He was standing by the dance floor, smiling as the photographer snapped pictures of him and his new in-laws. He hadn’t seen it. He couldn’t have seen it.

I quietly turned the nameplate over and tried to sit. But the laughter didn’t stop. Then I heard it.

Well, what did you expect? He fixes pipes. Probably didn’t even graduate high school. My stomach twisted.

I stood up, ready to walk out. But just as I turned to leave, a firm hand grabbed mine. It was Jason.

He looked at me, serious, quiet, but with something burning in his eyes. Dad, he said. Let’s go home…