“Are you kidding me?!” My voice came out louder than I intended. “Is this some kind of joke?!”
“Casey, this is not a joke,” Mom said calmly. “Aaron and I are dating.”
I turned to him, my anger flaring. “Why are you with her? Is it for the money?”
“Casey!” My mom gasped.
Ignoring her, I clenched my fists. “You two need to break up!”
Mom’s expression hardened. “We’re not breaking up!” she declared. “Aaron proposed, and we’re getting married in two months!”
Aaron’s jaw tightened. “Casey, I assure you, I don’t care about your mom’s money. I love her.”
Mom exhaled, clearly exhausted. “I’m done with all this yelling. Either you calm down and join us for dinner, or you can leave.”
“Great!” I shot back. “If a random guy is more important to you than your daughter, then I’m leaving!”
For days, I struggled to accept that my mother was engaged to someone my age.
I lay awake at night, replaying the dinner in my head.
Eventually, I called her, pretending to make peace. “I overreacted,” I said, forcing a cheerful tone. “I want to fix things. If Aaron makes you happy, I’ll support you.”
She was overjoyed. “That means the world to me, Casey!” she said. “I want you to be part of this. Let’s plan the wedding together.”
So, I attended dress fittings, sampled cakes, and helped with decorations. But deep down, I still doubted Aaron.
