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I WAS SAT ON THE COUCH, my head in my hands when I heard the doorbell ring.
I heard footsteps coming down the stairs Carlisle. He opened the door, his voice calm and kind.
"Hello, Mark. Jess," he greeted softly.
"Where's Delilah?" they asked at the same time.
Carlisle gestured for them to come inside and led them toward the living room, where I was sitting stiffly on the couch.
"Delilah?" my dad said.
I forced a small smile. "Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom."
The scent of humans filled the air my parents and I had to hold my breath, forcing the thirst back down.
They sat beside me, both silent, both staring. Finally, my mom spoke, her voice trembling but edged with frustration. "Sweetheart, what's going on? We haven't seen you in months. Why?"
"Mom, I have my own life now, okay?" I said quietly.
"That doesn't mean you get to shut us out of it," my dad said firmly. "We're your parents, Delilah. We deserve to be a part of your life."
I looked down, unable to meet their eyes. My mom sighed, glancing at my hands and then she froze.
"What is that?" she asked sharply.
"What's what?" I said, playing dumb.
"This." She grabbed my left hand and held it up to my face. Her eyes widened as the light caught on the ring.
"It's... my engagement ring," I muttered.
"Your what?" my dad said, his voice rising.
"You're married?!" my mom shouted.
"Not yet!" I snapped, standing up and yanking my hand away.
"When were you going to tell us you were engaged, Delilah? When you walked down the aisle?" she yelled.
"No! Of course not!"
"Then when? Do you not remember our conversation just weeks ago?" my dad demanded. "You're eighteen! We told you not to rush into marriage. Don't throw your life away for some boy!"
"Dad!" I shouted back. "He's not some boy! He's the love of my life the man I'm going to marry, the man I'll be with for the rest of my existence! When you're both long gone, he'll still be here, standing by me. So please respect my choices. Respect him."
They exchanged a look disappointment mixed with disbelief.
"Fine," my mom said coldly. "Then don't expect us at your wedding."
My breath caught in my throat. If I could still cry, I would have. "Fine," I whispered. Then louder, "Don't be there. Just... get out."
They both flinched. Without another word, they turned and walked toward the door. The sound of it closing echoed through the house like a final goodbye.
