In my situation, I experienced an unforeseen wave of comfort. I continued to cherish both my mother and father profoundly, yet their union had proven difficult to observe—laden with strain, disputes, and subtle melancholy.
As time passed, I started encouraging my mom to seek a new companion. She frequently shared her feelings of isolation, particularly during those extended, silent nights in the house. Therefore, when she phoned one afternoon, her tone brimming with enthusiasm while declaring that she had a boyfriend for me to encounter, I felt true delight on her behalf.
She asked me to come for a meal to handle the introductions. All the details I possessed were that his name was Aaron and that he worked as a pastry chef.
Eager to create a positive impact, I paused at a shop en route and selected a bottle of wine. The cost was significant—acquiring it implied I would rely on quick-prepare meals for the remainder of the week. Yet I remained unbothered. I faced financial challenges, conserving each coin toward realizing my goal of launching my own restaurant, and this meal carried great significance.
As I arrived at my mom’s residence, anxiety stirred within my abdomen. Before I managed to rap more than once, the entrance flew open.
“Casey! You have arrived at last!” my mom declared with a glowing grin. “We have been anticipating! I was on the verge of contacting you when the bell sounded!”
I mirrored her grin, striving to compose myself. “I feel confident that all will proceed well. You selected him, so how could I withhold my backing?”
We proceeded into the dining area as a pair. However, the instant I entered, my stomach sank.
Positioned close to the table stood a man around my own years, featuring dark locks, a carefully groomed beard, and an assured stance. My gaze shifted swiftly to my mom, who maintained her grin as though all aligned perfectly.
She glanced between us with anticipation, awaiting my response. Yet speech eluded me—I remained immobile in place.
“Are you serious?!” The phrase erupted more forcefully than planned. “Does this qualify as some prank?!”
“Casey, this qualifies as no prank,” Mom responded with composure. “Aaron and I are in a relationship.”
I directed my attention to him, rage igniting within my torso. “What draws you to her? Does it involve the finances?”
“Casey!” my mom inhaled sharply, her tone edged with shock.
I disregarded her and tightened my hands. “You both must end this!”
Her countenance firmed without delay. “We refuse to end this!” she proclaimed. “Aaron has proposed, and we plan to wed in two months!”
Aaron’s jaw firmed, yet his voice held steady. “Casey, I guarantee you, your mom’s finances hold no interest for me. I cherish her.”
Mom released a breath, evidently weary. “I have reached my limit with this shouting. Either you regain composure and share the meal with us, or you may depart.”
“Excellent!” I retorted sharply. “If some unfamiliar man holds greater value to you than your own daughter, then I shall depart!”
Over several days, I failed to reconcile with the events.
My mother stood engaged—to a man of my generation. I remained awake through the nights, revisiting the meal repeatedly, my fury contending with astonishment.
At last, I contacted her, feigning a desire for reconciliation. “I responded excessively,” I stated, imposing an upbeat inflection. “I aim to mend matters. If Aaron brings you joy, I shall offer my endorsement.”
Her alleviation emerged immediately. “That holds immense value for me, Casey!” she replied with affection. “I desire your involvement in this. Let us organize the wedding as a team.”
Thus I participated. I accompanied her to gown trials, tasted various confections, assisted in selecting adornments—all while endeavoring to quell my reservations regarding Aaron.
Several days prior to the wedding, I acknowledged lacking any firm basis to harbor dislike for him.
I had searched for imperfections, anticipating discovery of something dubious, yet nothing surfaced. Perhaps I had erred. Perhaps he genuinely cherished my mom.
That night, I inhaled deeply and confronted her. “I embrace Aaron and extend complete endorsement,” I conveyed with sincerity. “Now it stands confirmed.”
On the wedding morning, we hurried toward the location when Mom abruptly inhaled. “Oh dear! I forgot my phone at the house!”
Instinctively, I offered to retrieve it.
Upon reaching the house, I examined every space yet failed to locate her phone in any spot. Then, adjacent to her desk, I observed a secured drawer. Responding to a sudden urge, I forced it open, and a stack of documents tumbled onto the surface.
While collecting them, prominent lettering on one page seized my attention—Debt Notification.
Each record bore Aaron’s name. My pulse raced as I scanned through them. Subsequently, I uncovered additional documents—property records. My mom’s name appeared on them, yet the mark at the base differed from hers. It belonged to Aaron.
Alarm coursed through me. I refrained from further reflection. I seized the documents and hastened to the location.
“Halt the wedding!” I yelled while entering through the entrances.
All heads turned. I advanced quickly to my mom and pressed the documents into her shaking grasp. As she examined them, her complexion faded, and her mouth began to tremble. Then she concealed her face within her palms.
“Casey…” she murmured faintly. “These obligations… they stem from you.”
Aaron advanced. “Your mom informed me that you have long envisioned possessing a restaurant,” he stated with kindness. “We intended to acquire one for you using the wedding funds.”
He released a breath and proceeded, “We needed to complete the acquisition sooner than anticipated. My resources fell short, so I bridged the gap. That explains the obligations.”
A flood of embarrassment and remorse overwhelmed me. “Please grant forgiveness,” I whispered, my tone unsteady. “And to you as well, Aaron. I behaved with excessive severity.”
Aaron’s voice held firm. “Casey, claim your place so we may proceed with the rite.”
I paused briefly, then gradually assented. My limbs grew unsteady as I moved toward the rear of the space. The burden of my error weighed upon me, more oppressive than I could endure.
