I Took My Fiancé to Visit My Parents — He Ran Out Screaming ‘I Can’t Believe It!’ in the Middle of the Night

I’ve been with my fiancé for six years, and we were supposed to get married next month. But during a visit to my parents, he discovered their secret lifestyle, causing him to question our relationship too.

I’ve been with my fiancé for six years, but we’ve known each other for nine. We were supposed to get married next month, but then everything changed the course of our wedding journey.

We went to visit my parents to introduce him to more of my extended family before the wedding. My parents offered to host us, and we’ve been staying in my old room for the sake of nostalgia.

My fiancé, Adam, wanted to stay at a hotel, but I thought it would be fun to just have him share my old room with me.

“I don’t see why staying in your childhood home is going to change anything,” Adam told me when we were packing for the trip.

“Because it’s going to be my last time with my parents under their roof before I become a married woman. It’s going to be a sentimental moment,” I replied.

“If it gets uncomfortable, I’m just going to check myself into a hotel,” he said casually.

Of course, I didn’t expect what would happen next.

We got to my parents’ home, and everyone was excited to see us. My mother and aunt had cooked up an elaborate meal for us, ready to just sit down at the table and get to know Adam better.

All through dinner, everything went as well as expected, and Adam happily enjoyed having the attention centered around him.

We spent the rest of the week at my grandmother’s house, trying to finish the family visit in the best spirits we could muster. My parents apologized to Adam, but it didn’t matter anymore.

It wasn’t about them. It was about the fact that their actions had triggered my fiancé. On the drive home, Adam and I decided that we wanted to stay together and see where life took us.

This Caribbean Island Is Back From the Brink—and Ready To Share Its Treasures With the World

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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.

The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.

The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.

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