He didn’t hesitate.
“Marry me.”
I actually laughed.
Not because it was funny—because it didn’t feel real.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
The room went quiet in a way that made everything feel heavier.
“Why me?” I asked finally.
“Because you don’t worship money,” he said. “Even when you need it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” I admitted.
He gave a small smile. “No. But you understand its cost.”
I should have said no.
Everything about it went against instinct, pride, logic.
But then reality stepped in.
Rent.
