“I don’t believe that for a second,” I replied.
She left without saying goodbye.
I closed the door, and for the first time, my hands did not tremble at all.
That night we had pasta, red wine, and the small cake Catherine had bought.
We toasted on the balcony, looking out at the city lights.
“One year,” she said.
“The most difficult year of my life,” I admitted.
“And the worst?” she asked.
I thought about the empty chairs, the calls, the betrayal, and my mother saying my wedding could wait.
Then I looked at Catherine.
“No, it was the year I stopped being invisible,” I said.
She smiled, looking like she was hiding a secret.
“I have another gift for you,” she said.
“You already gave me that expensive pen,” I laughed.
Catherine took out a small white box and handed it to me.
Inside was a positive pregnancy test.
I froze in place.
“Is it…?” I asked.
“Ten weeks, and we are going to be parents,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
I hugged her so tightly that we both laughed and cried at the same time.
“Our child will never feel second best,” I promised.
“Never, we are going to break the cycle,” she replied.
The next day I called my parents, and my father answered.
“Holden, what a surprise,” he said.
“Dad, Catherine is pregnant,” I told him.
There was a long silence, and then I heard a sob of pure joy.
“I am going to be a grandfather,” he said.
“Yes, but the rules remain the same: respect, presence, and actions,” I said.
“I understand, and thank you for including us,” he said.
My mother picked up the phone.
“Forgive me, son, for the wedding and for everything,” she said.
I closed my eyes.
