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“You can keep the shirt,” he offers.
"I’m not sure I can accept it."
"You’re going to be my wife."
I stay silent. In my mind, I know it’s inevitable. Saying anything contradictory seems pointless. But my hesitation must come through because when I turn, it’s to find he’s watching me with a look of speculation on his face.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, you do, huh?”
He ignores the sarcasm in my voice. “You’re thinking that entertaining the idea of this proposal was stupid.”
My gaze widens.
“And moving in with me was a mistake. And you’re regretting that you’re so attracted to me, that it’s making it difficult for you think marrying me is a mistake.”
Shock has me immobile. Am I that easy to read? Or is it that he’s able to understand my misgivings without my spelling them out?
He must read the surprise on my features, for he nods. He pulls out his phone and his fingers fly over the screen.
What’s he up to?
He looks up at me, a look of confidence on his face. The hair on the nape of my neck rises. Before I can ask him anything else, a buzzing sound reaches me. What the—? Did he text me? With a last look at him, I head out of the closet and toward the bedside table where I placed my phone. I snatch it up.
It's not a text. A notification from my bank’s app fills the top of the screen. I tap on it, and it enlarges. The figure in my account takes my breath away. So many zeroes, more than I’ve ever seen on paper, or on a screen, and definitely not in my account. Shock holds me immobile.
I turn to him. "You did this?" I hold up my phone.
He nods without bothering to look at the screen. "Now you can pay in full for your sister’s ballet course and get your father the best medical help in the world."
I swallow.
"You can also arrange to move him to a better facility with higher quality care. With better attention and medication, there’s no reason he won’t live a healthy life into a ripe old age."
“Wait, what? You transferred the money to my account.”
He nods.
“But how did you get the details? I never shared them with you.”
He continues to glare at me, and a slow anger builds in my belly. “Of course, your private investigator got them for you. I’d have thought banks have to respect confidentiality, but clearly, anyone can be bought. Including me.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t cheapen what we have. It’s not like that between us.”
A heaviness knocks at the backs of my eyes. At the same time, I feel like I can breathe. So strange. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how stressed I’ve been about my father and my sister. Seeing the bottom line in my account makes our agreement a cold, hard reality. It’s a reminder of how much I need this money.
“This... this makes it very real.” I swallow.
He stays silent, letting me process my thoughts, and for that, I’m grateful. He’s simply come through on his part of the deal, as he said he would.
"You said you’d give me a month to think about it,” I remind him.
“And you still have it. But you need the money, so I transferred it.”
I nod slowly.
“I’m not pushing you to agree. And I don’t want to pressure you into deciding. Though I’d be happy if you agreed to marry me right away, of course.” He smirks, then his expression turns serious. “I want you to have the cash now, when you need it most. No strings attached.”
