She studied me, then laughed—a genuine laugh. “Funny timing. I might be looking for something similar.”
I introduced her to my parents, who were clearly horrified. But Mary surprised me too. She seemed almost in on the joke, glancing at me with an amused smile.
One night at a family charity ball, the mayor walked up, greeting her warmly. “Mary! It’s great to see you. Everyone’s talking about the children’s hospital your family funded.”
My parents froze. It hit me then: Mary wasn’t just anyone. She was the “Charity Princess,” a philanthropist from a prominent family, who had deliberately stepped away from wealth.
When I asked her about it, she admitted, “I recognized a man running from expectations when you proposed. I thought we could help each other escape.”
My scheme suddenly felt childish. While I was trying to rile up my parents, Mary had been carving her own path, giving up her family’s wealth to stay true to herself.
That’s when I realized my feelings had changed. I wanted to be with her, genuinely.
“Maybe it’s time we told them the truth,” I said.
She nodded. “It’s not a game for me anymore, Alex.”
The next day, we sat down with our parents, ready to reveal everything. For the first time, I felt calm—I knew, with Mary by my side, I was ready to face whatever came next, honestly.