I knew Anthony’s family wasn’t wealthy. I had even planned to speak to my parents to ask them to lower the betrothal price, just so I wouldn’t add to his family’s burden.

When Anthony’s sister got married, they demanded 288,000 dollars.

I had told my parents we would only ask for a symbolic 88,000.

How foolish I had been, lowering my own worth so easily. Looking back now, I feel that my willingness to compromise felt nothing short of pathetic.

***

On Monday, Anthony returned.

He looked exhausted, his face drawn with guilt.

I acted as if I knew nothing.

That day, I had overheard him arguing with his parents. He had fought back—maybe not enough, but at least he had tried.

Perhaps a part of him still cared.

So, I decided to give him a chance. A chance to prove himself. A chance to fight for me… and for himself.

I set the table, filling two tall glasses with red wine.

Anthony adjusted his glasses, looking hesitant. Guilt flickered in his eyes.

"Aurelia, I’m sorry… I’ve been busy lately and didn’t prepare a gift."

Today marked our sixth anniversary.

Every year, he gave me something, no matter how small, that he always remembered.

Maybe this time, the wedding had preoccupied him.

I pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit.

"It’s okay. You know I’m not the type to care about gifts. What matters to me is sincerity…"

His face shifted as if something had just occurred to him.

For a brief moment, excitement flashed in his eyes.

I ate slowly, taking unhurried bites and sipping my wine, letting the silence stretch before casually steering the conversation.

"How’s the wedding discussion with your parents going?"

His chewing stopped. For a fleeting second, his expression stiffened before he forced a smile.

"It’s almost settled."

My voice turned colder, my grip tightening around the stem of my glass.

"What about the banquet? The betrothal money? Have they been decided?"

He gave a small nod.

"Yeah."

A bitter sting crept up my nose and I tilted my head back, draining my glass in one go.

My heart clenched, my thoughts tangled into knots I couldn’t unravel.

Was he truly just obeying his parents?

Or was he planning to stall, waiting until I was too far along, until I had no escape, before taking me in?

I looked at the man I had loved for six years, yet, in that moment, he felt like a stranger.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what I wanted.

I majored in fashion design.