“You promised you’d support my decision!”
“I didn’t know your decision involved a 25-year-old!” I snapped, clenching my fists. “You two need to end this relationship!”
Mom pressed her lips together.
“We are not breaking up!” she declared. “Aaron proposed, and we’re getting married in two months!”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard her.
“What?”
“We’re getting married,” she repeated.
I shook my head in disbelief.
“Do you really want him to take everything you have?”
Aaron’s jaw tightened.
“Casey, I assure you, I don’t care about your mom’s money. I love her.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course you do. How convenient.”
Mom let out a weary sigh.
“I’m done with all this shouting. Either you calm down and join us for dinner, or you can leave.”
“Fine!” I shouted. “If some random boy is more important to you than your own daughter, then I’m leaving!”
I spun around and stormed toward the door.
“Casey!” Mom called after me. “Aaron is not a boy! He’s a grown man!”
I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking.
For days afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. My mom was engaged to someone barely older than me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it.
Every time I pictured them together, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. It just seemed so wrong.
I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling, replaying their announcement and wondering how my mother could have made such a decision.
She had always been sensible, cautious, and levelheaded. How could she not see what I saw?
There was no way Aaron genuinely loved her. He had to be after something.
And I was determined to find out what.
I considered every possible way to stop the wedding. Confronting Mom again would accomplish nothing. She had already made up her mind, and begging her to reconsider would be equally pointless.
That left me with one option.
I needed proof.
A few days later, I called her and deliberately kept my voice light and cheerful.
“I’ve been thinking about everything, Mom,” I said. “I know I overreacted. I want us to make things right. If Aaron makes you happy, I’ll support your decision.”
She sounded overjoyed.
“That means the world to me, Casey! I really want you to be part of this. Why don’t we plan the wedding together?”
I agreed.
Over the following weeks, I attended dress fittings, sampled wedding cakes, and helped choose decorations. I played the part of a supportive daughter, even though my real intentions hadn’t changed.
All the while, I kept a close eye on Aaron, waiting for him to slip up.
But he never did.
He was consistently polite, charming, and patient. Whenever I asked him a question, he answered without hesitation. He never became defensive or lost his temper.
If anything, he seemed almost too perfect, as though he’d rehearsed every possible response.
As the wedding approached, my confidence began to crumble.
A few days before the ceremony, I sat on my bed, rubbing my temples in frustration. I had searched for weeks and still hadn’t found a single thing that could expose him.
