He had built his life on structure—early mornings, long hours, and expectations that most people his age couldn’t understand. At twenty-seven, he worked beside his father and two younger brothers, running a business that had already made their family more than comfortable. Money had never been an issue; it was something he’d grown up around, something that followed him everywhere. But none of it ever felt as important as the girl he’d been with for the past five years but had know her for more.

From the beginning, he knew she came from a different world. Her family lived simply, nothing extravagant, nothing handed to them. And maybe that was part of the problem. They never trusted him, never believed his intentions were real. To them, he was just another rich guy who wouldn’t understand their daughter’s life. When she chose to stay with him anyway, they made their decision clear—they cut her off completely, leaving her to build a new life without them.

He didn’t talk about it much, but it stayed with him. Every time she went quiet at certain times of the year or avoided conversations about “home,” he felt it. He knew she had lost something important because of him, something he could never replace no matter how much he gave her. And even though he tried to make up for it in small ways—being there, listening, making sure she never felt alone—there was always that lingering thought that he had taken more than he could ever give back.

Still, they made it work. Five years turned into something steady, something real. She learned how to exist in his world, and he learned how to slow down enough to be part of hers. His brothers joked with her like she had always been around, and his father respected her in a quiet way. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. And despite everything they had been through, he never once questioned choosing her.

That Friday night, around 10 pm, the house was calm, almost too quiet after a long week. He sat on the couch with his laptop resting on his knees, scrolling through emails and numbers, focused but not rushed. The soft hum of the house surrounded him. He is wearing black jeans with a black belt, a white button up shirt but he always kept the first few buttons undone, and his black wedding band in his ring finger, he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes yet. His jet black hair curly over his forehead but kept short on the sides and back.