After that, he spoke to me differently.

He listened.

He remembered things.

“You notice the price of everything before the beauty,” he once said.

“Because price decides what gets to stay beautiful,” I answered.

He smiled slightly.

“That’s either wisdom or sadness.”

“Probably both.”

Violet noticed the connection.

“Grandpa likes you,” she said.

“He likes that I say thank you,” I joked.

But one night, Rick asked something unexpected:

“Have you ever considered marrying for security?”

I thought it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“Are you proposing to me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

That should’ve been the moment I walked away.

Instead, I asked why.

“Because I trust you more than my own family,” he said.

When I told Violet, everything changed.

She didn’t laugh.

“I thought you had more self-respect,” she said quietly. “But you’re just like everyone else.”

That hurt more than anything.

“Pride is expensive,” I replied. “You’ve had the luxury of keeping yours.”

She told me to leave.

So I did.

Three weeks later, I married her grandfather.

The wedding was small, expensive, and uncomfortable.

There was a fifty-year age gap—and no romance.

Violet didn’t even look at me.