When I heard my stepson’s urgent plea before the wedding, “Don’t marry my dad,” I was floored and super confused. What could make a 12-year-old say something like that? I thought we had a good relationship. I tried to brush it off as typical kid stuff, but curiosity gnawed at me. With the wedding so close, I had to know why he was so against it. What I discovered next left me reeling, questioning everything I thought I knew about my fiancé.
With the wedding looming, I thought a day at the park might help ease Tim’s worries. “How about a little trip to the park?” I suggested, hoping to see a smile. Jeff, my fiancé, nodded in agreement. Tim looked up from the floor and gave a small shrug. We headed out together, the sun casting long shadows as we walked. I wondered if this outing could bridge whatever gap had formed between us.
At the park, we strolled along the riverbank, watching the ducks glide over the water. Usually, Tim loved quacking back at them, but today, he just stared quietly. I tried catching his eye, but his gaze was fixed on the ducks. I wished I knew what was going on in his head, but words seemed like intruders just then. Jeff and I exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to reach him.
Ice cream had always been Tim's go-to treat, so I figured it might cheer him up. “Want your usual, buddy?” I offered hopefully, holding out a cone of his favorite flavor. Tim only shook his head, barely looking at it. It wasn’t like him at all. Brainstorming solutions, Jeff suggested, “Let’s try the arcade next.” I nodded, hiding my disappointment. Something was definitely bothering Tim, and I was determined to find out what.