MARRIAGE'S HIDDEN COST

The scent of chlorine hung heavy in the air. Ten-year-old Leo traced a crack in the patio tile with his toe, his small face knotted with a seriousness that only a boy his age could muster. His father, David, was nearby, methodically skimming leaves from the pool’s surface.

“Daddy,” Leo began, his voice cutting through the quiet afternoon. “How much does it cost to get married?”

David paused, the skimmer hovering over a captured oak leaf. He looked at his son, seeing not just the boy, but a flash of the man he might become, one already pondering life’s monumental transactions.

A slow smile spread across David’s face, not of joy, but of wry, hard-earned recognition. He leaned the skimmer against the fence and sat down on the sun-warmed edge of a lounger, patting the space beside him.

Leo climbed up, all knees and elbows.

“How much does it cost?” David repeated, his gaze drifting across the shimmering blue water to the back door of their house. Through the glass, he could see the gentle glow of the kitchen, where his wife, Sarah, was humming along to the radio as she prepped dinner. “I don’t know, son,” he said, his voice a mix of warmth and weary amusement. “I’m still paying for it.”

Leo’s nose scrunched in confusion. “But…...