I asked my friends and family not to mention it because I figured it was just too painful for him.
I had no reason to suspect he was keeping secrets.
Then there was Leo, Daniel’s son from his marriage to Stephanie.
“My son’s 14,” Daniel told me one evening while we were cooking dinner at my place. “He’s been through a lot.”
“Do you think I’ll meet him soon?” I asked. I was nervous but excited.
Daniel leaned against the counter and sighed. “Eventually. I just need to be sure first.”
I tilted my head. “Sure of what?”
There was Leo, Daniel’s son from his marriage to Stephanie.
“That this is real,” he said, reaching out to take my hand. “That Leo is ready. I have to be certain for all of us. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I squeezed his hand. “You want to protect him. I just… I hope you know I’m in this for the long haul. I love you, Daniel, and I’m serious about us. That’s why I want to meet Leo.”
“I know.”
He smiled tenderly and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.
“That’s why I want to meet Leo.”
It made sense, right? He didn’t want to bring a woman into his son’s life unless it was serious. That’s what it seemed like to me, but I was wrong.
Finally, the invitation came. After 18 months of dating, I was going to dinner at Daniel’s house.
I spent an hour deciding what to wear. Should I look casual? Sophisticated?
“Just be yourself,” Daniel said over the phone. “Leo’s shy. Don’t worry too much.”
I settled on a nice sweater and jeans.
I was wrong.
When I arrived at the house, a heavy silence hung in the air. It was too quiet for a home with a teenager.
I walked into the dining room, and Leo was already sitting at the table. He was tall for his age, with stiff shoulders. He looked up at me, his eyes widened, and then he never so much as glanced in my direction for the rest of the evening.
“Leo,” Daniel said brightly, “this is—”
“I know,” Leo cut in. “Hi.” He didn’t smile.
“It’s really nice to meet you, Leo.” I sat down across from him, trying to keep my energy high.
Then he never so much as glanced in my direction for the rest of the evening.
He gave a single nod and went back to staring at his plate.
Dinner was, in a word, painful. Every question I asked seemed to hit a wall.
“How’s school going?” I asked.
“Fine,” Leo replied.
“What kind of stuff are you into? Hobbies?”
“The usual stuff,” he said.
Daniel tried to fill the gaps by talking too much and laughing at things that weren’t funny.
Every question I asked seemed to hit a wall.
He was trying so hard that it made me uncomfortable.
At one point, I saw them exchange a look. It was quick and sharp. It felt like they were communicating in a language I didn’t speak.
My chest started to tighten. Was I the problem? Did I have something on my face?
The silence became thick, like a physical weight in the room.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up with a forced smile.
He was trying so hard that it made me uncomfortable.
“I’ll just take these plates to the kitchen,” I said.
Daniel jumped slightly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” I insisted. I needed to breathe.
I walked into the kitchen and stood by the sink.
That was turning into a disaster! Part of me wanted to cry. I’d waited so long for this day, and while I never expected Leo to take an instant liking to me, I’d never once thought he’d be so cold.
I was just heading back when I heard Leo whispering.
Part of me wanted to cry.
They were speaking French. Clearly, Leo wanted to make sure that even if I overheard them, I wouldn’t understand what they were saying, but he was wrong.
My high school French teacher was a legend. She was strict, relentless, and she made sure we knew every tense and nuance of the language.
“Dad, didn’t you tell her the truth?”
I froze.
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