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His parents insisted on a large, elegant event. They framed it as generosity, but it was clear they wanted something that reflected their image of success. I agreed, mostly because I didn’t want conflict and partly because I believed love would smooth the edges.
On the day of the wedding, my father arrived early. He wore a simple suit he’d had tailored just for the occasion. His shoes were polished. His hands shook slightly as he adjusted his tie, not from shame, but from nerves. This was my day, and he wanted to be perfect for me.
Ethan greeted him with genuine warmth. He hugged him like family. I saw my father relax a little after that.
