I had been waiting for months to meet my daughter’s fiancé, imagining the perfect introduction. But when I opened the door and saw him, my excitement vanished. This wasn’t what I expected. I knew, in that moment, this wedding couldn’t happen. I had to stop it—no matter what it took.
I had been running around the kitchen all day like a madwoman because today was important—Kira was finally bringing her fiancé and his parents over for dinner.
I had dreamed of this moment for months, picturing how we’d sit together, laughing over stories, bonding as future in-laws.
But for some reason, Kira had avoided it, always coming up with excuses. “They’re busy, Mom.” “Another time, I promise.” It didn’t make sense. What could be so hard about introducing us?
But now, she had no choice. Marcus had proposed. It was official. And that meant I was meeting him—and his family—whether she liked it or not.
Bradley sat at the table, flipping through the newspaper, watching me with amusement. “Sit down for a minute, Jessica,” he kept saying. I waved him off. “I don’t have time to sit! The roast is in the oven, the table’s not set, and the flowers—where are the flowers?”
Just as I started setting the food on the table, the doorbell rang. My heart pounded. This was it.
“Oh God, they’re here!” I shouted, yanking off my apron and tossing it onto the counter.
Bradley barely looked up from his chair. “I’ll get it,” he said, calm as ever.