The next morning, I march into the kitchen with my head held high where my father is nursing his usual black coffee. Charles squeezes my hand encouragingly before I turn to face my father's scowling visage.
"Father, we need to talk. Properly this time, without storming off or disrespecting one another." I keep my voice firm but respectful. "Charles is the man I've chosen to spend my life with. I understand that you have...reservations about our relationship. But you need to understand that nothing is going to change my mind."
My father's scowl deepens over the rim of his coffee mug. "I don't need to understand anything except that you've been brainwashed by this...this Wilderville Widower!"
I flinch at the cruel nickname some have bestowed on Charles, but stand my ground. "That's compl
