“The very same,” he said, still grinning. “You see, I’ve always believed in a hands-on approach. I wanted to see who my daughter’s fiancé really is outside the polished dinner introductions and carefully rehearsed answers.”
A close-up shot of an older man’s face | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe it. Why didn’t Kathy tell me about this? Was she a part of this plan?
“So, this was all an act?” I asked.
“A necessary one,” he replied calmly. “It’s easy to show kindness when everyone’s watching. But I wanted to know how you’d treat a stranger, especially one who seemed to have nothing to offer you. Turns out, you passed the first part.”
“The first part?” I echoed. “How many parts are there?”
He opened the notebook and handed me a pen. “Just one more. Write a letter to Kathy.”
“A letter?”
A young man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Tell her why you love her, why you want to marry her, and how you’ll take care of her. Don’t overthink it. Be honest.”
I stared at the blank page as beads of sweat formed on my temples. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. But as much as I wanted to protest, I knew I couldn’t.
So, I started writing.
At first, the words came slowly, stumbling over thoughts and emotions. But soon, the pen seemed to move on its own.
A man writing a letter | Source: Pexels
I wrote about how Kathy made me feel complete, how her laughter could brighten my darkest days, and how I wanted to build a life with her filled with trust and joy.
By the time I finished, my hand ached, but my heart felt lighter.