*James Blackwood's POV*
Friday morning arrived with a knot of anxiety in my stomach that had been building all week.
Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night I would finally meet Helen.
I stood in my kitchen staring at the grocery list I'd made and remade three times already, unable to shake the nerves that had taken root in my chest.
"You're overthinking this," Patrick said from where he leaned against my counter, coffee mug in hand. He'd shown up at eight o'clock, claiming he wanted to help me prepare but really just wanting to make sure I didn't spiral into panic.
"It's just dinner," he added.
"It's not just dinner." I set down the list and ran a hand through my hair. "It's meeting the woman my son wants to marry."
"Did Kelvin say he wants to marry her?"
"He had said so. I can hear it in
