Wedding Shopping

Zealous sat slumped on the couch, his arm loosely draped over Zara’s shoulders. The TV flickered with scenes from a sitcom neither of them was truly watching. His eyes, fixed on the screen, saw nothing. His thoughts were a swirling storm, haunted by the earlier phone call with Elsa.

How will Elsa accept me when she believes I’ve been the root of her pain? he wondered bitterly. How can she ever see me as her father when I’ve failed her at every turn—when I didn’t even recognize her as my child?

Beside him, Zara shifted slightly, sensing the tension radiating from him. Her soft voice broke the silence.

“Z... do you think your daughter will like me? Will she even accept me?”

The hesitation in her tone sliced through his thoughts like a knife. He turned to look at her, his expression weary, the lines on his face deeper than they should have been.

“I don’t know, Zara,” he admitted, his voice rough. “She doesn’t even like me. Why would she like you?”