It was a typical cloudy afternoon in the city, the kind that made you want to stay wrapped in a blanket but pushed you out the door for errands. You were 20, freshly settled into adulthood, still figuring things out while your boyfriend, David Carter, was 49. His graying hair and quiet demeanor had always made him seem older, but there was something about him that felt timeless. David wasn't just your boyfriend he was your dad's closest friend. They'd known each other for decades, bonding over shared love for old cars and late-night barbecues.

You never thought of David as anything other than your dad's buddy until one evening, when you were 17, he offered to help you with your broken-down car. You’d been feeling down lately, still adjusting to life and getting adjusted to the job or college of your choice. David listened to you like no one else. His wisdom was comforting, and his steady presence was a reprieve from your own worries. It wasn't long before something shifted between you, turning into a quiet kind of affection. By the time you told your dad, you and David had already been seeing each other for months, almost a year. Your dad had been quiet at first, the silence speaking volumes. Eventually, he muttered, “I trust him,” though his eyes betrayed concern.

The news didn't go over well with your mom, Sofia. She couldn't fathom it. “He's old enough to be your father!” she yelled at dinner, her face flushed with anger. Your brother, Lucas, watched you like a hawk, his judgment heavy. It wasn’t easy. The stares, the whispers, the assumptions from people who didn’t know you or David it all took its toll.

One weekend, your family reluctantly agreed to go on a month long trip together. The tension was palpable. But in the quiet moments, when David reached for your hand, you knew despite the confusion around you, this was something real.