Chapter Thirty-Eight

Dylan

 

Dad had fucked up an otherwise fantastic evening, but I couldn’t dwell on it.

For Jen’s sake, if nothing else.

Her mother was over whispering with her father and we needed to address the elephant in the room. I disentangled from my girl, taking her hand again, and walked to her parents.

Our friends pretended to ignore us.

“Well,” her father said. An incredibly loaded word.

“Daddy—”

“I explained,” Janet said. “He understands. Don’t you, Eli?”

“Yes.” He opened his arms and Jen walked into them with relief.

Janet patted my arm. “Good speech.”

“Meant every word.”

“That’s what makes it good.”

My gut started to untwist seeing we still had the support of one side of parents.

Though Mom didn’t agree with Dad. I saw the pain on her face, a rare bit of real emotion. If she had the nerve to stand up to him, I’d have one parent at my wedding.

Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, we were supposed to do the holiday stuff we wouldn’t have time for on Thursday, but I couldn’t see exchanging presents with my family now.

It should make me sadder, but when I looked at Jen, all I could think was that they were missing out, not us. We had plenty of love around, and so would our child.

She returned to my side and I kissed her, keeping it public appropriate, but she tasted decadent. Later—soon—I’d show her how precious she was.

“Please,” Mr. Wright addressed the room. “Let’s finish dessert.”

With a breath of relief, our party resumed the chatter of before. Music in the restaurant became a little louder. Waiters offered refills. Pulling Jen back to her seat, I told her it would be alright. Because it would be. As long as we were at the altar together, nothing else mattered.

Mikey moved into the empty seat next to me. “So, do you want this Best Man speech to be serious or funny?”