I made the difficult decision to ask my brother to leave my wedding. He went against my clear wishes and brought his children, despite knowing our wedding was meant to be children-free. While it was a tough call, I stand by it.

My wife, Laura, and I recently tied the knot, opting for a celebration without children. We felt it was for the best, given our circumstances. I made this known to all our guests when I sent out the invitations.

I was confident that everyone would honor our request. However, I had lingering doubts about one person, my brother David, who is 36. As a devoted father of four, David takes his children everywhere. They’re his world, and until now, there hasn’t been a single family event in my 28 years that David attended without his kids.

Knowing this, I personally handed him his invitation and made sure to read it aloud. “Kids are not allowed. Sorry for the inconvenience,” I read.

David scoffed, “Child-free, huh?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I believe it’s for the best.”

David glared at me. “Are you serious, Richard? My kids have never been excluded from anything, especially not their uncle’s wedding.”

I apologized, maintaining that everyone had to follow this rule. At first, David seemed resistant, but then he said, “I get it, no children. No worries. I won’t bring them.”

A week later, on the day of the wedding, all the guests arrived except for David and his wife. I suspected he was angry at me for the child-free rule and almost called him to apologize. Just then, my best man informed me David had arrived—with his children.

Fuming, I approached David at the entrance, greeted the kids, and asked my sister-in-law to take them to the car. As they left, I confronted David.

“You can’t come in, David,” I said firmly. “Children aren’t allowed.”

David replied, “Calm down, Richard. It won’t ruin your day if my kids are here. Why the fuss?”

I was livid. “I told you clearly before, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but I thought you weren’t serious,” David said. “They’re just kids. You won’t throw me out for that, will you?”

“I can and I will. Get out, David!” I shouted.

David shot back, “You’re a lunatic, Richard. Who does that to family?” I stood my ground.

He stormed off, hurling more insults about Laura, accusing her of being the cause of this. While I wanted to retaliate, our argument had already drawn the attention of all the guests. My mother intervened, urging me to let David back in, but I refused.

Since that day, family opinions have turned against me. They view my actions as a betrayal to David and his family, simply because I enforced a rule that meant a lot to Laura and me.

My father was particularly angry, fearing I had permanently severed our bond with David. He warned me David would never forgive me.

Here’s the reason I was so strict about keeping the wedding child-free: I worked for Laura’s father’s company before they both tragically passed away in a car accident. It was in those sorrowful days I met Laura. As time passed and she began working in her father’s position, we grew close. Eventually, we fell in love.

Even with time, Laura couldn’t escape the trauma of her parents’ sudden death and sought therapy. Her therapist stressed to me the importance of avoiding anything that might cause her distress.

Shortly before our wedding, Laura discovered she could never become a mother. She was devastated, even though I had tried to keep this from her until her therapist deemed it appropriate to let her know.

I chose to make our wedding a child-free zone to protect Laura’s fragile state. Seeing children knowing she couldn’t have her own would’ve been excruciating for her. Though she proposed a simpler court wedding after hearing the doctor’s news, I went ahead with a wedding of the size and style she’d always dreamt of, hoping it might lift her spirits.

I could not trust David to keep this secret, and I feared my family’s harsh judgment of our relationship. Despite these hurdles, I am confident I did the right thing for Laura and me.

You can judge me harshly if you want, but know that I acted out of love and a desire to protect Laura. I was not motivated by spite but by compassion for my wife.

Sometimes standing firm on a decision is hard, especially when family is involved, but love sometimes requires tough choices.