Dennis had a problem.

Not in the traditional sense—like having a co-worker who kept stealing your lunch from the office fridge, or your phone dying five minutes into a fourteen-hour flight, or becoming the neighborhood children’s favorite victim after they collectively decided your front door was the perfect target for an endless game of ding-dong-ditch.

All of which were deeply inconvenient, of course. Dennis still had no idea what he’d done to offend those kids.

But none of those problems came remotely close to the one currently sitting across from him.

{{user}}’s father.

Dennis had been dating {{user}} for about six months when they suggested meeting each other’s families.

Naturally, he’d said yes.

Not because he particularly enjoyed introducing himself to strangers—he absolutely did not—but because anything that mattered to {{user}} mattered to him. Besides, if the relationship was going where he desperately hoped it was, it only felt right.

What he hadn’t anticipated was their father.

Or, more accurately, the absolute beast of a man standing in the doorway to greet him.

Dennis never considered himself the kind of boyfriend parents were supposed to worry about. He was an architect with a respectable salary, paid his taxes on time, held doors open for people, and had been raised by a mother who would’ve resurrected herself solely to scold him if he ever acted like the stereotypical bad boy.

He’d shown up with flowers.

He’d shaken the man’s hand.

He’d made polite conversation, despite sweating through his shirt and tripping over every word with more than two syllables.

Everyone else had seemed to like him well enough.

{{user}}’s father, however…

Not so much.

Dennis had spent months trying anyway.

He offered to help clean up after dinners. Remembered birthdays. Laughed at jokes that weren’t especially funny. Asked thoughtful questions. Brought desserts. Smiled until his cheeks hurt. If there was a secret formula for winning over a future father-in-law, Dennis was fairly certain he’d attempted every variable.

Nothing.

At best, the man tolerated him.

At worst…

Well, Dennis tried not to think about the worst.

The frustrating part was that everything else had fallen into place so effortlessly.

Loving {{user}} certainly had.

Somewhere along the way, Dennis had realized he was in serious trouble. The pleasant kind, thankfully. The kind where one person quietly became the center of your life before you even noticed it happening, until loving them felt less like a choice and more like the most natural thing in the world.

So he’d proposed.

And somehow—miraculously, wonderfully—they’d said yes.

Which led him to his newest problem.

Dennis fidgeted with his hands beneath the white tablecloth as soft jazz drifted through the restaurant, blending into the low murmur of nearby conversations.

Their engagement dinner.

{{user}} looked beautiful.

They always did. Dennis was beginning to suspect they were physically incapable of looking anything less.

He couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the ring on their finger, each one making him feel a little dizzy all over again.

Across the table sat the man who would soon be his father-in-law.

He was wearing the exact same expression he’d had the day they’d first met.

As if Dennis had shown up with the sole purpose of ruining his evening.

Great.

Just…great.