This was written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers challenge. Check out her blog and click on the blue Inlinkz frog to read other takes on the photo prompt (copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields).
Catherine’s father waited on the porch.
Jacob clenched and unclenched his fists, approached.
“How is she?”
“Why are you here, son?”
Jacob colored. “That’s my baby in there, and the woman I love.”
“Not your wife.”
“I’d like her to be.”
The older man leaned on a plantation column. “Don’t think she feels the same, Jake. Not that I understand it. In my day, a wedding was the only way.”
“She said that? She doesn’t want me?”
“She said…you aren’t reliable. Wants to depend on herself.”
Jacob shifted. “Can I see the baby?”
Catherine’s father shrugged. “Come on.”