Dreams to vows

Chapter 23: Social Challenges

*"Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."* — Ralph Waldo Emerson

🥂🥂

POV: Priscilla 💕

John’s parents were coming over for dinner again, and while I had grown to love and appreciate them, there was always a certain pressure that accompanied their visits. It wasn’t that they weren’t warm or welcoming—they were. But every time they came over, there was this underlying expectation, an unspoken weight about family, career, and legacy that seemed to linger in the air.

I stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew, trying to focus on cooking rather than the conversation I knew we’d be having later. John walked in, catching sight of my furrowed brow, and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Relax, Pris," he said softly, kissing the top of my head. “It’s just dinner. We’ll get through it.”

I let out a small laugh, turning to face him. "Yeah, just dinner... with your parents."

He smirked. "What could go wrong?"

I rolled my eyes. “You know as well as I do that your mom is going to ask about grandchildren again. And your dad will probably bring up the business. They always do.”

John shrugged, his calm demeanor contrasting with my nervous energy. "We’ve been through this before. We’ll be fine."

I admired his ability to brush off the pressure, but for me, it wasn’t that easy. John’s parents, while loving, had high expectations. They had built a legacy—both in their family and in business—and they wanted to see us follow in their footsteps. And now, with John in the process of merging his father’s company with his own, the stakes felt even higher.

---

As expected, dinner began pleasantly enough. John’s mom, elegant as ever, complimented the house they had gifted us after our honeymoon. "You’ve really made this place your own, Priscilla," she said, her voice soft but with an unmistakable hint of pride. "It’s lovely."

"Thank you, Mom," I replied, smiling as I served more food. I had become accustomed to calling her ‘Mom’ and John’s dad ‘Dad.’ They’d insisted on it after the wedding, and though it had felt strange at first, I appreciated how it symbolized the unity between our families.

For a while, the conversation remained light, filled with updates about work, mutual friends, and the occasional joke from John to keep things relaxed. But I knew it wouldn’t last forever.

“So, Priscilla,” John’s dad began, setting down his glass of wine and leaning back in his chair. “How’s the business going? Have you given any thought to expanding into new territories? I’ve heard great things about the opportunities abroad.”

I smiled politely, already preparing my response. “The business is going well, Dad. We’ve been discussing international expansion for a while now, and we’re taking it step by step. I’ve got a solid team, and we’re laying the groundwork for growth.”

He nodded, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. "That’s good to hear. But you don’t want to wait too long. In business, timing is everything. If you don’t seize the opportunity, someone else will."

“I understand,” I replied, though I felt the familiar pressure building inside. I appreciated his advice—he had decades of experience in the business world—but sometimes it felt like every decision I made had to be justified, like I was constantly being evaluated.

"And you, John?" his mother chimed in, turning her attention to her son. "How are things going with the merger? I know it’s been a lot of work. Hopefully, once it’s all settled, you’ll have more time for... other things."

And there it was. The subtle nudge about family. I felt John’s hand gently squeeze mine under the table, his silent reassurance that we were in this together.

“It’s going well,” John answered, his tone calm and measured. "Once the companies are merged, I’ll be able to step back a little, let the systems run themselves. But yeah, it’s been a lot of late nights."

His mom smiled knowingly. “Late nights are part of building something great, but you also have to think about your family. You’re both doing so well in your careers, but there’s more to life than work, you know.”

I forced a smile, feeling the weight of her words. She wasn’t wrong—family was important—but the way she said it made it sound like we were somehow failing by not starting one immediately.

"We know, Mom," John said, his voice light but firm. "We’ve got our plans, and we’re taking things one step at a time."

His dad chimed in, his voice carrying a bit more authority. “The sooner you start building a family, the better. You don’t want to wait too long. It’s all about balance—career and family. You’ve got the business side covered, now it’s time to think about the next generation.”

I felt my stomach tighten, not because I didn’t want a family, but because the timing of it felt so... dictated. John and I had talked about it, but we were on our own timeline, not theirs.

Sensing my discomfort, John shifted the conversation. “Dad, you’ve always told me that building a business is like raising a family—both take time, patience, and care. Pris and I are putting in that work now, and when the time is right, we’ll expand the family, too. But right now, we’re enjoying where we are.”

His dad chuckled, clearly amused by John’s analogy. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to look at it. Just don’t wait too long.”

John’s mom nodded in agreement, but before she could add anything more, John flashed one of his signature grins and changed the topic entirely.

“Speaking of balance,” he said, “did I tell you about the time Pris tried to cook a traditional meal from my village and almost burned the house down?”

The tension in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by laughter as John regaled them with the tale of my culinary misadventure. I playfully swatted his arm, but I was grateful for the shift in tone. John had this incredible ability to diffuse any situation with humor, and tonight was no different.

"Hey, I’ve improved since then!" I protested, laughing along with them.

“You’ve definitely gotten better,” John teased, winking at me. "But that was a close call."

As the laughter filled the room, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. John’s parents might have their expectations, but at the end of the day, we were still our own unit, making our own decisions. And with John by my side, I knew we could handle whatever pressures came our way.

---

After his parents left that evening, I curled up on the couch with John, resting my head on his shoulder. “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I admitted, though I could still feel the weight of their words.

John wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. "It never is, not when we stick together. We’ve got our plans, Pris. We’ll handle things at our pace, not theirs."

I nodded, grateful for his unwavering support. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard not to feel like we’re... I don’t know, not measuring up.”

“We’re doing just fine,” John said softly, kissing my forehead. “And when we’re ready for the next step—whatever that looks like—we’ll take it together.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. We were a team, facing life’s challenges side by side, and no amount of external pressure could shake that. Together, we could face anything—societal expectations, career demands, and even the inevitable questions about family—with love, humor, and unity.

And that was more than enough for me.