Chapter 1
The morning of my wedding, I watched my stepfather's heart break in front of me.
I was standing in our family living room wearing the white lace dress I had dreamed about since I was a little girl.
My hair was pinned into a low bun, decorated with tiny pearls. My bouquet rested against my waist.
Everything was supposed to be perfect.
But Arthur was staring at me as though I had just told him he wasn't my father anymore.
"My biological father called," I whispered. "He wants to walk me down the aisle."
Arthur's smile disappeared.
For twenty-three years, I had called him Dad.
Now, standing only inches away from him, I watched those words tear something open inside his chest.
He looked toward the family photographs hanging above the cream-colored sofa.
One showed me at seven, missing my front teeth, sitting on his shoulders.
Another showed my high school graduation.
And another showed Arthur teaching me to ride a bicycle.
My biological father wasn't in any of those pictures.
Arthur was.
He cleared his throat.
"Well, sweetheart."
His voice sounded different.
Older.
Tired.
"If that's what you want, I won't stop you."
I saw his jaw tighten.
He tried to smile.
But the smile never reached his eyes.
He looked down at the polished black shoes he had bought especially for my wedding.
Then he turned toward the hallway.
"I should check whether your mother needs anything."
"Dad, wait."
He stopped immediately.
Something about the word Dad made him freeze.
I hurried forward and grabbed his hand.
His fingers were cold.
"Please look at me."
He slowly turned.
I could see tears gathering in his eyes.
"Nia, you don't have to explain."
"Yes, I do."
He shook his head.
"Your biological father has a right to want to be there."
I felt my throat tighten.
"He had twenty-eight years to want that."
Arthur looked startled.
I took a shaky breath.
"I told him no."
His eyes widened.
"What?"
"I told him he wasn't walking me down the aisle."
Arthur stared at me.
For a moment, he looked completely confused.
"But you just said—"
"I said he called."
I squeezed his hand.
"I never said I agreed."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
I had seen Arthur cry only three times.
Once when my grandmother died.
Once when my younger brother nearly lost his life in a car accident.
And once when I received my acceptance letter to college.
Now he was crying because of me.
"Dad," I whispered, "he gave me DNA."
Arthur swallowed.
"But you gave me a childhood."
His lips began trembling.
"You gave me a home."
I looked toward the photographs.
"You taught me how to ride a bicycle when I was terrified of falling."
He looked down.
"You stayed awake when I had pneumonia."
I squeezed his hand tighter.
"You worked overtime to pay for my school trips, even when you needed new shoes."
"Nia."
I shook my head.
"I'm not finished."
He pressed his lips together.
"You came to every school performance."
My voice cracked.
"You sat through terrible piano recitals and told me I sounded like a professional."
Arthur laughed through his tears.
"You weren't terrible."
"Dad, I was awful."
We both laughed.
Then I started crying again.
"You helped me apply to college."
He nodded.
"You moved me into my first apartment."
His shoulders began shaking.
"And when my first boyfriend broke my heart, you drove forty minutes just to bring me ice cream."
Arthur covered his mouth.
I placed his hand over mine.
"So when my biological father called yesterday and said he wanted to take his rightful place at my wedding, I told him that place was already taken."
Arthur stared at me.
"Nia."
I smiled through my tears.
"You're walking me down that aisle."
He took a step forward.
Then he stopped, as though afraid to believe me.
"Are you sure?"
I felt my heart break.
After everything he had done, he still needed to ask.
I nodded.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
He pulled me into his arms.
I hugged him carefully, trying not to wrinkle my dress.
For a moment, I was seven years old again.
The little girl who used to run toward him when thunder frightened me.
The child who fell asleep on his shoulder during long drives.
The daughter who never once doubted that he would come when she called.
He whispered into my hair.
"I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you too, Dad."
Then I stepped back.
"There's something else."
He wiped his eyes.
"What?"
I reached behind my bouquet.
Earlier that morning, I had hidden a folded document between the stems and the ribbon.
My hands trembled as I pulled it free.
Arthur looked confused.
"Nia, what's that?"
I smiled nervously.
"Something I changed before today."
I handed it to him.
He unfolded the paper.
I watched his eyes move across the first line.
Then he stopped breathing.
His fingers tightened around the document.
He looked at me.
Then back at the page.
"Nia?"
I nodded.
His eyes filled again.
"Is this real?"
"Yes."
He covered his mouth.
I had imagined this moment for months.
But nothing prepared me for the way he looked at me.
Not with surprise alone.
With disbelief.
As though he had spent twenty-three years loving me without ever expecting the world to recognize what we already knew.
I stepped closer.
"I wanted your name to be part of mine forever."
Arthur stared at the document.
Then he whispered, "You didn't have to do this."
"I know."
His voice broke.
"Sweetheart, you never owed me anything."
I nodded.
"That's exactly why I wanted to."
He lowered his eyes to the paper again.
Then I heard footsteps approaching the living room.
My mother's voice came from the hallway.
"Nia? Arthur? The wedding car is almost—"
She stopped.
I turned.
Mom was standing in the doorway wearing her elegant champagne-colored dress.
Her face changed when she saw Arthur crying.
"What's wrong?"
Arthur couldn't answer.
He simply held out the document.
Mom took one look.
Then she covered her mouth.
"Oh, Nia."
I smiled through my tears.
"Surprise."
But before she could hug me, my phone began ringing.
I glanced at the screen.
My stomach tightened.
It was my biological father.
Again.
I had already told him he wasn't walking me down the aisle.
I had already asked him to respect my decision.
But he had called six times that morning.
Now there was a new message.
I opened it.
"Nia, I'm outside the wedding venue. We need to talk before you make the biggest mistake of your life."
I stared at the words.
Then another message arrived.
"You don't know the truth about Arthur."
My smile disappeared.
I looked at the man holding my document.
The man who had raised me.
The man I trusted more than anyone.
And for the first time that morning, I felt afraid.
Not because I believed my biological father.
But because I knew he hadn't come back to celebrate my wedding.
May you like
He had come to destroy something.
And I had no idea how far he was willing to go.
