My daughter had been hiding her fiancé from me for nearly two months. I was honestly getting upset and demanded she introduce us. But for reasons unknown to me, she kept dodging the conversation again and again.
Then, one day, she finally brought him over. I had prepared everything—cleaned the house from top to bottom, set a beautiful table with fine china, lit candles, and even baked his favorite dessert based on what I thought I knew about him.
But when the door opened and I saw him, I dropped my favorite, incredibly expensive vase. I couldn’t believe I was seeing that face.
Standing in front of me was Jake—the man who had broken my heart ten years ago. The same Jake I’d begged to marry me before he vanished without a word. The man I had never stopped thinking about, yet never expected to see again.
My daughter smiled nervously and said, “Mom, this is Jake. He’s… well, he’s the one I’ve been talking about.”
I stood there stunned, my mind racing. How had she never told me? Why had she kept this a secret? And most importantly—what did this mean for all of us?
The room felt heavy, but in that moment, I realized the story wasn’t over. It was just beginning.