Sarah looked up, her eyes moist. “I know, Mrs. Carter. That is why I love him.”
Michael took her hand across the table. It was a beautiful moment, but inside, my instincts were screaming. Robert Harrison sounded like the type of man I had spent my life avoiding—men who measured humanity by the weight of a wallet. Men like that always hide something.
Months passed. Michael and Sarah became official. He was radiant, but the shadow of her father loomed larger every day.
One rainy afternoon, Michael came home looking grim. “Mom, I’m going to propose to Sarah.”
I felt a mixture of joy and dread. “Have you met the family?”
“Yes. I went to dinner at their estate two weeks ago.”
“And?”
Michael hesitated. “The dad… Mr. Harrison… he’s strange, Mom. He interrogated me. Asked about my salary, my savings, if I owned property. He made me feel like I was applying for a loan, not asking to date his daughter.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth. That I earn a fair wage. That I’m saving. That I work hard.”
“And his reaction?”
Michael clenched his fists. “He laughed. He said, ‘Well, son, I hope you know my daughter is accustomed to a certain standard of living. Not just anyone can support her.’”
