At twenty-four, she was finishing college while working evening shifts at a restaurant.
Her car made an awful sound whenever she turned left. Her laptop needed several minutes to start, and she bought secondhand textbooks while budgeting carefully for groceries after paying rent.
Meanwhile, I ran a successful business and came from a wealthy family where checking prices was practically unheard of.
We’d been together for nearly two years.
Whenever I offered to cover her tuition, Skyla declined.
“I need to know I can do this myself,” she’d say.
My parents interpreted things differently.
One Sunday, Mom questioned whether Skyla understood our family’s wealth.
“She’s met you, Mom,” I said. “She knows you’re comfortable.”
“That’s not what I asked, Archie.”
Dad expressed his concerns more openly.
“Be careful. Some people know how to wait until you’ve let your guard down.”
My friends shared similar suspicions.
