The room fell silent the moment my mother looked at Samantha and said, “Harry needs time to decide whether he’s willing to give up being a father.”
No one moved.
My relatives stood beneath gold balloons beside a cake no one had touched, watching us as if our future had become a family discussion instead of our own.
Samantha tightened her grip on her purse.
My sister, Paige, quietly stepped closer to her.
I opened my mouth to speak.
Nothing came out.
Three seconds.
That was all it took.
In those three seconds, I watched sixteen years of trust crack behind the woman I loved.
“She’s right,” Samantha whispered softly. “You should think.”
She turned toward the door.
“No.”
I stepped in front of her.
For one heartbreaking moment, she thought I was trying to stop her from leaving.
Instead, I turned toward my mother.
“We’re leaving,” I said. “This is your house, but Samantha and I are done standing here while everyone debates her future.”
