The wedding date loomed closer, and the house was awash in a frenzy of preparations. Brenda orchestrated every detail with relentless precision, her voice cutting through the noise of caterers and decorators.
“I want the cake table here, and make sure the crystal centerpiece catches the light just right,” she barked, gesturing dramatically to a corner of the room. “This isn’t just a wedding—it’s a statement.”
Ryan sat in the corner of the living room, Caleb nestled in his lap, blissfully unaware of the chaos around them. Damien and Debby, seated on the couch with their books, exchanged quiet glances. The usual spark in their eyes was dimmed, replaced by a palpable unease.
“Are we going to the wedding, Dad?” Damien finally asked, his voice subdued.
Ryan hesitated, stroking Caleb’s back absently. “We’ll talk about it,” he said.
Damien frowned, his tone sharper. “It’s not really for us, is it?”
The question hit Ryan like a punch to the gut. Debby looked up, her big eyes filled with confusion. “Do you still love us, Dad?” she asked softly.
Ryan’s throat tightened as guilt surged through him. “Of course I love you,” he said firmly. “You’re my everything.”
“Then why do you spend more time with Caleb?” Damien muttered, looking away.
The words hung heavy in the air, cutting deeper than Ryan expected. He opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words.
Brenda swept into the room, radiating energy. “Ryan, come help me with the menu tasting,” she chirped.
“I’m with the kids,” Ryan replied, his voice low.
Brenda’s smile faltered. “You’re always with them. Caleb needs you too.” Her gaze flicked to Damien and Debby, her tone turning syrupy. “You two are invited, of course. It’s going to be the most beautiful wedding anyone’s ever seen.”
Debby clutched her book tightly, saying nothing. Damien’s frown deepened as he muttered, “We didn’t even want this.”
Ryan stood abruptly, passing Caleb to Brenda. “I’ll be back,” he said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.
In the nursery later that evening, Ryan watched Caleb sleep, his tiny hands curled against his face. The baby’s soft breathing was the only sound in the room. Ryan leaned over the crib, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What kind of father am I, buddy?” he murmured, his chest tight with self-loathing. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”
Brenda appeared in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hall. “Ryan,” she said, her voice soft but insistent, “you’re being too hard on yourself.”
He straightened but didn’t turn around. “Am I? Damien thinks I’ve forgotten them. Debby’s afraid to talk to me. And Caleb…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“Everything will be perfect once we’re married,” Brenda said, stepping closer. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. “This is what we’re building, Ryan. A future. Stability.”
He turned to face her, his expression weary. “For who, Brenda? For Caleb? Or for you?”
Her smile was sweet but thin, and she ignored the question. “For us. You’ll see. Once we’re officially a family, everything will fall into place.”
Ryan didn’t reply. Instead, he stared at her, wondering how everything had spiraled so far out of control—and whether it was already too late to fix.