The Beginning of the Storm

It was supposed to be a celebration, a joyous occasion to mark the beginning of a new chapter in my son Daniel’s life. He had always been a thoughtful, kind-hearted young man. So when he told us, at Sunday dinner no less, that he was getting married, I couldn’t believe my ears. My heart sank into my stomach, not because I didn’t want him to be happy, but because I knew something wasn’t quite right.

“Mom, Arnold, I have some news,” Daniel said with a smile that lit up his face, but his eyes were a little too bright, like he was trying to hide something.

Arnold, my husband, was in the kitchen grilling steaks when Daniel made the announcement. He wiped his hands on his apron and came in, ready to hear the news. He always tried to stay positive, always wanted the best for our son, and had an easygoing demeanor about life. But this time, the news was different.

“I’m getting married,” Daniel added, his grin widening.

I felt the air in the room thicken. My thoughts immediately rushed to a thousand places. “What? You’re what?” I almost choked on my own words. This wasn’t the news I had expected at all.

Arnold froze for a moment before taking a slow seat. “How long have you been seeing this girl?” he asked, his voice measured.

“Three weeks,” Daniel said proudly. “We’ve been dating for three weeks, but it feels like I’ve known her forever.”

“Three weeks?” I repeated, my mind racing. “Daniel, honey, that’s hardly any time to even get to know someone properly. Are you sure about this?”