For years, I believed Nick was the safest, most stable thing in my life.
When we met, everything with him felt easy. My family loved him too — especially my sister Lori.
The first time she met him, we were having dinner at my mom’s house. Nick helped bring dishes to the table, laughed at my uncle’s terrible jokes, and complimented my mom’s roast.
While he was in the kitchen, Lori leaned over and whispered, “Oh my God. If you don’t marry him, I will.”
Later that night, I showed her my engagement ring again in the kitchen. She turned it slowly under the light.
“You always get everything first,” she said with a small laugh. “The good job. The good guy.”
Then she handed it back and smiled like she was joking.
When I told Nick about her comment later, he laughed.
“Good to know I have options.”
At the time, it felt like the harmless kind of joke families make.
My mother reacted differently.
“You finally found a good man,” she told me one Sunday. “Don’t let this one go.”
My mom had always favored Lori.
Whenever Lori caused problems, Mom would say, “She’s sensitive. You’re stronger. You’ll be fine.”
So hearing her approval felt like finally winning something.
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