Every mother dreams of giving her child the best life possible. Comfort, security, love. But my mother's dream was different. All she ever wanted was to give me something I never asked for: a father. A family.
And I never wanted it.
It has been two weeks since she told me the news, the kind of news that should bring joy to any teenager who grew up with a single parent. She was getting married. My mother, Anabel, was finally going to put on the white dress she claimed she never needed but secretly desired.
Children my age should have been happy. Excited even. They would probably tell their friends at school, "My mom's getting married! I'm finally going to have a dad!"
But me? I wasn't like them.
I was born without a father. I learned to walk without him, to cry without him, to laugh without him. I had built an entire life around the absence of one, and I did just fine. My world was small but stable. Until my mother decided to change everything with her fairy-tale wedding.
"Amelia, you don't walk out on me when I'm talking to you!" Her voice cut through the room like a blade.
I froze halfway to my bedroom door.. Slowly, I turned to face her. The fire in her eyes was enough to silence me, but the storm inside me was louder.
"Mother, I can't believe you're actually doing this," I said, my voice breaking with frustration. "Why do you need him? Haven't you had enough of being abandoned by men? Why do you keep chasing after what always leaves you broken?"
For a moment, her face softened, like she'd been caught off guard. Then, just as quickly, her eyes hardened. She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the tiled floor, and before I could move, the sting of her palm landed across my cheek.
"How dare you!" Her voice shook with anger. "I am your mother, Amelia. In this house, I decide what happens. You will respect my choices."
My cheek burned, but not nearly as much as my heart did. She didn't see me, not the girl who cried herself to sleep when other kids bragged about their dads at school, not the girl who carried the silence of rejection in her chest. She only saw her dream, her chance at happiness, and I was the one standing in the way.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat, refusing to let her see me cry. Instead, I grabbed my school bag from the chair. "There's nothing left to say," I whispered. My voice was steady, but inside, I was crumbling.
I left the house without waiting for her reply.
The walk to school was long, but the cool morning breeze brushed against my skin, calming the storm inside me. I stared at the streets I'd known since childhood, at the families walking hand in hand, and wondered why I felt like an outsider in my own mother's story.
At school, laughter filled the hallways, but it only made me feel heavier. I slipped into my classroom, pretending not to notice the curious glances of my classmates. They knew about the wedding my mother had proudly announced it at church the week before. I had heard whispers, seen the smiles of girls who thought I was "lucky."
Lucky. If only they knew.
"Amelia!" My best friend, Katherine, waved from her desk. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "So, is it true? Your mom's getting married?"
I forced a smile. "Yeah."
"That's amazing! You'll finally have a dad. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"
I bit down hard on my lip, trying not to snap. Always wanted? If she only knew how wrong she was.
Katherine leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Come on, you should be happy. At least you won't be the only one anymore. Maybe he'll treat you like his own daughter."
I stared at her, speechless. The words his own daughter made my stomach twist. I wasn't sure I even wanted that. I had spent seventeen years defining myself by what I didn't have, a father. Now suddenly I was supposed to welcome one with open arms?
Instead of answering, I slid into my seat, burying myself in my notebook. Katherine pouted but let it go. Still, her words haunted me all through the day.
During class, I couldn't focus. Every line in the book reminded me of families, fathers, and promises. My chest tightened with every passing minute, until the bell finally rang.
After school, I took the long way home. I wasn't ready to face my mother again. But fate had other plans.
As I rounded the corner of our street, I saw him.
Matt.
He stood by the gate, tall and confident, his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows as if he had already claimed the house as his own. His smile was wide, easy, the kind that made strangers trust him instantly.
He smiled when he saw me, like we'd known each other for years.
"You must be Amelia," he said warmly. His voice was deep, calm, too calm. "Your mother told me so much about you."
I froze, clutching my bag against my chest. His presence unsettled me. Not because he looked threatening, but because he didn't.
He looked like the perfect man every mother dreamed of. And that terrified me more than anything.
I wanted to run. To scream. To tell him he wasn't welcome. But instead, I stood there, my heart pounding, my silence louder than words.
"Don't worry," he said softly, as if reading my fear. "I'm not here to take your place. I just want to be part of the family."
Family. That word again.
I forced myself to walk past him, ignoring the kind smile he wore like a mask. I didn't look back, not even when he called after me, "I hope we can get along, Amelia."
Inside, my mother was waiting, her face glowing with joy I hadn't seen in years. "Isn't he wonderful?" she asked, her eyes shining.
I didn't answer. Because deep down, something told me Matt wasn't as perfect as he seemed.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The house was quiet, too quiet. I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that I was overreacting. That maybe Matt really was as good as my mother believed.
But then I heard it.
Whispers. Low voices drifting from the living room. My mother's laughter. His voice. Then a pause.
I slipped out of bed, my bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. Slowly, I crept toward the living room, my heart hammering.
I pressed my ear against the wall.
"You don't have to worry," Matt's voice murmured. "She'll learn to accept me… even if I have to make her."
My breath caught in my throat.
Even if I have to make her.
The words chilled me to the bone.
And in that moment, I realized something terrifying. My mother wasn't the only one about to make a mistake. I was about to step into a storm I had no control over