I had prepared my pot roast, my specialty. Michael was a bundle of nerves, but Sarah helped set the table with an ease that surprised me. We talked about her dreams; she wanted to design sustainable housing for low-income families. I liked her immediately. She had a good heart.
But when the conversation turned to her father, the air in the room changed.
“My dad is… demanding,” she said, pushing a carrot around her plate. “He has always wanted me to be perfect. Best grades, best schools. And now, he expects me to marry someone of his ‘level’.”
“And what does he think of Michael?” I asked, pouring her more water.
Sarah looked down, biting her lip. “I haven’t told him we’re dating yet.”
Michael looked at her, surprised. “Sarah?”
“It’s just that…” She sighed, a sound heavy with exhaustion. “My dad is complicated. He always says a man has to prove his worth in dollars. He doesn’t trust anyone who doesn’t come from a wealthy family.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. “Michael comes from an honest family,” I said, my voice firm. “Hard work and values are worth more than any bank account.”
