In that moment, my heart felt smothered, like someone had pulled a plastic bag over it. Even my breathing trembled.
Click. The front door opened behind me.
Marvin stood in the doorway, panting. Without a word, he walked in and gulped down a huge mouthful of water.
"Rosie, you've got the late shift this afternoon?"
It was the weekend. I didn't have to work. But to earn extra money, I'd picked up a weekend gig at the mall near our apartment.
Marvin, on the other hand, chose to work overtime at his office because the company paid time-and-a-half.
"Yeah. Three o'clock."
I kept my voice flat, low, willing him to catch the edge in it.
He didn't. He just grinned. "My hardworking wife, saving up for our wedding with me."
"Your husband's gonna head right back and grind it out. Hit those targets, score a big bonus, and move that progress bar along."
I stood there, watching him in silence.
"We've actually saved up most of what we need," I said. "How about next month you come back with me to meet my parents?"
Marvin slipped his phone into his pocket. His brow creased slightly.
"I mean, sure, the bride price is pretty much covered, and we bought the place. But we still don't have the money for renovations. Plus, the wedding itself is going to cost a lot."
"How about we wait one more year?"
Wait. Again.
He'd said these things before. I'd never thought much of it, but now every word sounded like a stalling tactic.
When I didn't respond, Marvin walked over and tugged gently at my hand.
"Just a little longer."
"Rosie, I don't want your parents looking down on me."
"I want to marry you properly. Give you the wedding you deserve."
That one offhand remark my parents had made years ago had become the biggest obstacle to our marriage.
And the most convenient excuse Marvin ever had.
What he didn't know was that my parents couldn't have cared less about the money.
Our family wasn't short on cash.
This past holiday season, my parents had already relented. I just hadn't gotten around to telling him.
They wouldn't keep a single dollar of the bride price. And the trousseau they'd give us would be worth several times what we'd saved over the years.
"Okay," I said.
My heart sank, bit by bit, into stillness.
The bitterness churning inside my chest rose like a tide threatening to spill over.
I stood up and walked toward the $1.99 bouquet of dried flowers.