She invited me over for dinner to make introductions. All I knew was that his name was Aaron and that he was a pastry chef.
Wanting to make a good impression, I stopped by a store on my way and picked up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t cheap—buying it meant I’d be eating instant noodles for the rest of the week. But I didn’t mind. I was struggling financially, saving every penny to achieve my dream of opening my own restaurant, and this dinner felt important.
As I pulled up to my mom’s house, nerves fluttered in my stomach. Before I could even knock twice, the door swung open.
“Casey! You’re finally here!” my mom exclaimed with a radiant smile. “We’ve been waiting! I was just about to call you when the doorbell rang!”
I returned her smile, trying to steady myself. “I’m sure everything will be fine. You chose him, so how can I not support you?”
