Dinner was polite. Quiet. But I kept noticing details.

Lena refilled Dad’s water before he asked. Passed the salt before he reached for it. She seemed to anticipate him.

Then Dad set down his fork.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. “Lena and I are engaged.”

The words didn’t connect.

“Oh,” was all I managed.

Lena took his hand. “This wasn’t sudden. We’ve been leaning on each other for a long time.”

Dad nodded. “She’s been living here for months.”

Months.

I hadn’t known.

“I didn’t want to waste time,” he said. “Life’s short.”

I said nothing. I couldn’t. I was sitting at my mother’s table, watching her twin hold my father’s hand.

Over the next weeks, everything moved fast. Lena was suddenly everywhere.

“She’s been such a blessing,” people said.
“Your mom would’ve wanted this.”

Would she?

I kept my doubts to myself. I wanted Dad to be happy—even if it felt wrong.

Before the wedding, they held a small family gathering. People talked about destiny and unexpected love. I tried not to cry.