ADVERTISEMENT
Any coherent response I might have had vanished under one immediate, practical question.
He exhaled and set the ring box down for a moment.
“I owe you the truth.”
He wasn’t broke.
He had been betrayed.
They hadn’t just ruined him.
He said being on the street had broken something in him. Not only because of the loss, but because he saw how quickly the world stopped looking at him like a person. Then I appeared — a woman ridiculous enough to propose marriage to a stranger, but kind enough to offer help without knowing whether he could ever repay it.
ADVERTISEMENT