Asking For Her Father’s Permission but Never Asking for Her Hand
It’s never too late to get cold feet
“Where’s my ring, Hogan? My dad told me you asked for his permission to marry me 2 months ago. Why haven’t you proposed yet?” Sally interjected while we were fighting about something else.
“I don’t know, I haven’t had the time.” was my excuse. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear but it was a half-truth.
Ever since my dad died, I’ve wanted a family of my own. Sally was also in her mid-30s and already had one kid. She was ready to get married and willing to have another baby. My intention when we started dating was to marry her.
Deep down, I knew why I hadn’t bought a ring yet. We weren’t compatible, and it wasn’t fixable.
Sally was determined to make our relationship work from day 1. I’d never had someone so committed to loving me. She was infatuated, and I liked the attention.
What I found most attractive about Sally was her devotion to her 4-year-old son, always tending to what she believed he needed, first. They had season’s passes to Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm. She had him playing soccer and little league.
I moved in with her way too soon. Her place was only 10 miles from my work, and it was going to happen…
