At weddings, they always ask, “Does anyone object?” “Most people just sit there and don’t do anything. My mom? She thought it was a chance to wreck my future in front of everyone. But what she didn’t know was that my fiancé, Noah, had the perfect answer that would make her run away from the wedding in disgrace.
Let me take you back to the beginning.
I saw Noah in the subway, which was the last place I expected to see him. At almost midnight, the train was almost empty. Only a few tired passengers were returning home.
I worked as a nurse and had just ended a long 12-hour shift at the hospital. When I saw him, I felt like I was melting into the plastic seat. Across from me, a man in a faded sweatshirt and worn sneakers was reading an old copy of The Great Gatsby. He had a furrowed brow, and it was clear that he was thinking about somewhere else, far away from that train car.
I kept looking at him over and over. He was so calm without even trying.
When he finally looked up and caught me gazing, I quickly turned away. My cheeks were on fire.
He smiled softly and said, “Fitzgerald does that to people.” “It will make you lose track of where you are.”
I smiled back. “I don’t know.” I haven’t read it.
His eyes got brighter. “Not ever? You forgot something.
“Long shifts don’t leave much time to read.”
He said yes. “That’s understandable.” If we meet again, I’ll still lend you my copy.
“Maybe,” I said, not really believing I would see him again.
He said, “Sometimes the best stories come to us when we least expect them,” as he got off at the next station.
A week later, fate brought us back together in a significant manner.
There were a lot of people on the train because it was rush hour. Someone pulled hard on my purse and ran for the door while I was standing at the door holding on to a rail.
“Hey! Stop him! I sobbed, but no one helped.
Not Noah.
He hurried through the crowd, pushing past others who were astonished. At the next stop, both he and the thief fell onto the platform. I was so scared that I went after them.
When I got there, the robber was gone, and Noah was sitting on the ground, out of breath, holding my wallet. A small cut above his eyebrow was bleeding.
As I helped him up, I said, “You have a talent for making dramatic entrances.”
He grinned. “I still need to give you a copy of The Great Gatsby.”
That night, I bought him coffee to say thank you. Dinner came after one cup of coffee. We walked home after dinner. That walk ended with a kiss that made my knees wobbly.
Six months later, we were in love.
What about my mother? She despised him.
“A librarian?” She giggled when I told her. “Emma, are you serious? You could do a lot better than that.
I said, “He makes me happy,” even though I was getting mad.
She said, “Happiness doesn’t pay the bills,” with a snort.
Some people would say my mother Patricia is “aspirational,” while others could say she is “delusional.” She has always acted like we are richer than we really are. She wears nice clothes, talks about famous people at parties, and brags about vacations that are really merely weekend trips that she took pictures of.
I was so happy when Noah asked me to marry him with a simple but gorgeous sapphire ring.
He said, “It made me think of your eyes,” as he put it on my finger.
When I showed her, her nose wrinkled.
“Is that all?” Not a full carat yet?
“Mom, it’s just right.”
“Well, I guess it can be better later.”
The first time Noah met my family was a disaster.
My mom wore her most costly jewelry and talked all the time about her “close friend in Monaco who owns a yacht.” I’m very sure that person isn’t real.
It was kind of Noah to be nice and friendly. He complimented the decorations, asked insightful questions about my mom’s work for charity, and brought a bottle of wine that was so rare that my dad, Robert, literally lighted up.
“Where did you get this?” “Hey, Dad,” he remarked as he turned the bottle over in his hands.
“It’s from a small vineyard in Napa,” Noah said. “The owner is a family friend.”
My mom shut her eyes. “Are you talking about family friends who own vineyards?” That’s very useful.
“Patricia,” my dad whispered softly.
She didn’t seem to care when she took a taste of her wine.
Later that night, my dad pulled me aside. “I like him.” He’s a good person.
“Thanks, Dad.”
He said, “She’ll come around,” but it was evident that he didn’t believe it.
“I’ll marry him no matter what she says.”
Over the next few months, things became worse. Mom made fun of everything about Noah, from his career (“Books are a dying industry!”) to the way he dressed (“Can’t he buy something that fits?”). She also made fun of the ancient library where the wedding took place, which was Noah’s favorite place.
“Emma, it’s not too late,” she murmured as she sat on the edge of my bed the night before the wedding. People will understand.
I gazed at her. “I love him.”
“Love goes away.” Not money.
“He makes me feel safe.”
“What do you mean? “Do you have books with hard covers?”
I stood up. “Dad taught me how to find happiness. That’s what I’m doing.
She let out a long breath. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.” But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“Just promise me you won’t make a big deal out of it.”
She put her hand on her chest. “Only what’s best for you.”
That should have been a red flag.
Our wedding day was beautiful. The stained glass windows of the original library let in a lot of light. People sat down in the middle of rows of old books. The air smelled like roses and paper.
As the music played, my dad walked me down the aisle. I saw Noah waiting with bright eyes.
He said, “You’re beautiful,” while Dad held my hand.
The ceremony was lovely until the officiant said, “If anyone has a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Shut up.
Then there was the sound of silk moving.
When I turned around, my mom was there. My stomach dropped.
“I just have to tell the truth,” she said in a dramatic fashion, brushing away tears that weren’t there with a lace handkerchief. “I love my daughter.” But this man—she gestured to Noah with disgust—doesn’t deserve her. She may have married a doctor. A lawyer. He is a man with a lot of willpower. Instead, she’s wasting her time on this.
Gasped. Whispers. Even the person in charge stopped.
My dad looked terribly humiliated. I felt like I couldn’t move.
Then Noah gently squeezed my hand and gazed at her.
He said gently, “You’re right.” “She really does deserve the best.”
My mother was happy to win.
Noah then took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“What is this?” she said, confused.
He said, “Your credit report.”
The room was very quiet.
Her face grew white as she gazed at the page.
“I looked into the person who talks so much about money,” Noah stated. “You have a lot of credit card debt, are behind on your second mortgage, and just got turned down for a loan.”
The people in the crowd gasped.
“You broke my privacy!” she yelled.
Noah smiled. “I looked into your past. Before you marry into a family, it’s usual to do this. And I wanted to know why you hated me so much.
He paused for a second.
“But let’s be honest, let me add one more.”
He looked at her and then at the crowd.
“I have a billion dollars,” she said.
There was no sound at all. Someone dropped a glass of champagne.
“What? I said softly, glancing at him.
He looked at me with lovely eyes. “I didn’t want you to fall in love with my money.” So I led a modest life. I work as a librarian because I adore it. But I also own that library. And a few more. Real estate and investing… We don’t flaunt off our old money, but we have it.
He turned around and glanced at my mom.
“Your daughter never cared about what I had. That’s why I’m going to marry her.
My mom stood still, and her lips opened and closed like a fish’s.
Noah whispered to me in a low voice, “I was going to tell Emma after the wedding.”
I glanced at him and felt like I was about to cry. “Are you mad that I didn’t know?”
“No.” Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?
“A little.” But I get it.
“Do you still want to marry me?”
I didn’t think twice about it. “More than ever.”
Everyone in the room cheered as I kissed him right there at the altar.
My mom went without saying anything.
The rest of the wedding was like a dream come true. Noah’s parents were nice and welcoming when they came in quietly. They had been doing humanitarian work in other countries and wanted to stay out of the spotlight. They treated me like a member of their family.
Later, while I was dancing under the fairy lights, my dad texted me:
Your mom won’t talk to you for a little. But just between us? I have never felt prouder. Noah is the kind of man I always hoped you would find: someone who cares about you more than anything else. With or without cash.
I told Noah. He smiled.
“Your dad is a smart guy.”
I said, “Not like my mom.”
He gripped me tight. “In the best stories, the bad characters aren’t nasty because they have money or don’t have money. They are bad because they go after the wrong things.
“Is that Fitzgerald?”
“No.” That one belongs to me.
I realized that the actual fairy tale wasn’t the surprise riches or the drama at the altar as we swayed under the stars and listened to stories. It was discovering someone who loved me for who I truly was, not who I looked like.
More than anything else, that feeling made me feel like the richest lady in the world.
