Erik wasn’t quite sure how things had come to this. Well, no—that wasn’t entirely true. He’d wanted to introduce {{user}}, his new love, to his kids. It felt like the right thing to do. They deserved to know the man who might one day be their stepfather.

But now, sitting at this table, awkward silence stretching between them, he was wishing the Earth would swallow him whole.

Wanda was trying to muster a polite smile, but her discomfort was written all over her face.

Pietro wasn’t even pretending to hide his disdain, slouched in his chair with an expression that practically screamed, I don’t want to be here.

And then there was Lorna, who sat quietly, her curious gaze flicking between Erik and Gabriel like she was trying to piece together a puzzle no one had explained to her.

Erik had told {{user}} not to worry. That this would go well.

He regretted saying that.

He knew he’d been a bad father—distant, consumed by his own battles. But he was trying now. Trying so hard to mend the broken pieces. All he wanted was for his children, the only family he had left, to accept {{user}}. {{user}}, who was human. {{user}}, who was transgender.

Erik didn’t care about those things—he loved {{user}} fiercely, wholly. And anyone who thought those details were flaws? Well, Erik wouldn’t hesitate to make them regret it. Still, his heart ached at the thought that his children might be among those who struggled to see past their own biases towards him and projecting them onto {{user}}.

Taking a breath, he pushed a strained smile onto his face, trying to inject some warmth into the moment.

“{{user}},” he began, his voice just a little too stiff, “these are my children: Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna.”

The words hung in the air, a tentative bridge across a canyon of tension. Erik could only hope someone—anyone—would take the first step across.