We had always raised Aire to think for herself. To make her own choices. To stand strong, even when the world tried to bend her.And yet, as I sat here, watching her argue her case with a conviction I couldn’t ignore, I felt my chest tighten. My wife’s hand gripped mine lightly, and I realized we were both holding onto something deeper than just concern.Fear.Fear of the age difference. Fear of the power imbalance. Fear that this would hurt her.“Yes, she’s grown,” I said finally, voice tight. “But—Marcus… he’s—”“Older than her?” my wife finished. Her voice was softer than mine, but it carried the same tension.I nodded, swallowing hard. “Far older.”Aire’s expression didn’t falter. She looked from me to my wife and then to Marcus, who stood quietly, every inch the man she loved—reserved, careful, controlled.“She’s allowed to choose,” my wife said gently.“I know,” I admitted. “I raised her to be capable, to make her own mistakes—but…” I trailed off. The “but” was heavy.“Scared?”
Last Updated : 2026-01-23 Read more