Page 2 of When Love Changes Everything

“I feel like I’m living in a fairy tale,” she says, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

“You deserve it, Lily,” I reply, my voice warm with sincerity. “You and Noah deserve your happily ever after.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her gaze sharpening as she notices my forced smile.

“Things with my dad went… about as badly as I thought they would.”

“Oh, no,” she murmurs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Of course not!” I exclaim, trying to keep the mood light. “This is your wedding reception. Go on, enjoy every second of it.”

Glancing in Noah’s direction, she pulls out a chair and sits. “We can talk about it now.”

“I’m not exactly Dad's favorite,” I murmur, struggling to keep bitterness from seeping into my tone. “But he’s still my father.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her expression tightening with empathy.

“We barely exchanged words,” I admit, the weight of my feelings pressing down. “Once we settle the trust fund details, there won’t be much left to say."

"When is that happening?" she asks.

"He’ll be here next week. Things will be awkward, to say the least.”

"Maybe you two can use this time to reconnect and maybe clear things up?" Her tone is hopeful but cautious.

“I appreciate your optimism, Bestie,” I say with a sigh. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. Whenever I’m around my father, it’s like I’m twelve again—just this insecure kid, desperate for his approval.”

“Speaking of dads,” she says, an amused glint in her eye, “I saw you dancing with mine.” The sudden shift in topics catches me completely off guard, and I can’t help but laugh, my earlier frustration melting away just a bit.

“Busted!” I wince, flashing a guilty smile.

“Lisa,” she murmurs, disappointment flickering in her blue eyes, a mirror of her father’s.

“Maybe it's just my daddy issues manifesting?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s not funny,” she says, her tone suddenly serious.

“I’m kidding!” I chuckle, trying to brush it off. “It was just a dance, nothing more.”

“I told you, my father can be very charming,” she adds, a hint of warning in her tone. “Just be careful not to let him charm his way into your—”

“What?” I ask, cutting her off. “My bed?”

“I was going to say your life,” she replies defensively, "but if your mind went there, then we might have a bigger problem."

“He lives in Mexico!” I exclaim, shaking my head, trying to dismiss her concern.

"He's going to be here until after the holidays," she reminds me.

“Let’s change the subject,” I suggest. “How are you feeling? Is the morning sickness gone?”

A smile touches her lips as she caresses her belly. “Yes, I’m finally feeling like myself again.”

“Good,” I smile, the tension easing slightly. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but like I’ve told you before, I’m not into older men."

“Neither was I,” she counters. “Now look at me, married to a man eighteen years my senior, pregnant and helping him raise his son.”

“And you’ve never been happier,” I reply, mirroring the big grin on her face with my own.

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