Chapter 2: The Price Goes Up

I sat awkwardly among a cluster of aunts, their accents thick as syrup, their laughter sharp and alien. The room was warm, but I couldn’t shake the chill in my bones. The smell of strong coffee and fried dough drifted from the kitchen, but I felt like an outsider at my own engagement.

Savannah stood across the room, glued to her phone, her head bowed. She didn’t even glance my way. Yesterday, I’d teased her: “What if your dad throws me out?” She’d just laughed. "He wouldn’t eat you alive."

Now it felt like I was being devoured, piece by piece.

Her father’s voice cut through the noise. “Since you’re here, let’s get to the point. I don’t agree to this marriage.”

His tone was flat, like a judge delivering a sentence. My stomach dropped. “Why, Mr. Whitaker? Didn’t both families already agree?”

He snorted, “You really want to bring that up? Your family tried to pull a fast one.”

I blinked, confused and anxious. “What do you mean? How did we cheat you?”

“I checked into your family. You make six figures, your parents run a successful grocery, and you own three properties. That’s right, isn’t it?”

I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady.

“And you think $40,000 is a fair dowry?”

A few relatives laughed, the sound harsh in my ears.

I said, “If you think it’s too low, we can talk. What number do you have in mind?”

He didn’t hesitate: “$95,000. Plus a $13,000 fee for Savannah to take your name, $15,000 for the rehearsal dinners, and every relative gets a $1,200 cash gift. Oh, and you need to buy a condo in Atlanta for her brother—doesn’t have to be fancy, just a thousand square feet. And get him a job.”

The room seemed to close in on me. I glanced at Savannah’s brother, who barely looked up from his video game. “I’m supposed to handle all that for him, too?”

Her father scowled. “Family helps family. He’ll be your brother soon.”

I felt like I’d stepped into a bizarre game show, waiting for someone to yell, ‘Gotcha!’ But he started ticking off numbers on his fingers.

“Dowry and dinners, that’s $125,000. Condo’s another $250,000. So, $375,000 total—about half your family’s assets. Isn’t that a fair trade for a wife?”

I tried to explain, “Mr. Whitaker, that’s not how it works. One house is a farmhouse, not worth much. One is my parents’ only home—they can’t just sell it. The third is the place Savannah and I bought together, as you suggested. We spent almost everything we had on it…”

He cut me off, “So you’re saying you won’t pay?”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s just too much. Can we talk about lowering it?”

He slammed his hand on the table. “You think Savannah isn’t worth it? Last year, a girl with a two-year degree got $75,000. You’re only offering $40,000 for a college grad? Where’s my pride?”

His voice echoed, bouncing off the wood-paneled walls. “I know your family’s got no one else to spend on. Sell your house. Retire to the country. It’s not like you’ll be homeless.”

My hands clenched. “Have you thought about what happens if my parents get sick? Rural hospitals can’t handle emergencies. I can’t just leave them with nothing.”

“So you’re saying my Savannah isn’t good enough?”

His tone was icy, but I tried to keep calm. I didn’t want to fight. Not with Savannah watching.

She still wouldn’t look at me, tapping on her phone like none of this mattered.

I called her name twice. She ignored me.

I reached over and gently turned off her phone screen. She finally looked up, her eyes darting away from mine.

“Savannah, do you have anything to say?”

She mumbled, “I… I don’t know.”

The relatives jumped in:

“Young man, who doesn’t go broke for a wife?”

“There’s a shortage of women these days. You should be grateful to marry at all.”

“$95,000 isn’t much. With Savannah’s degree, she could get $130,000 easy.”

Her father looked pleased, like he’d won a prize.

It hit me then—this was all a setup. A family ambush, not a holiday gathering.

I said, “I’ll tell my parents everything. I need to talk it over with them.”

Her father didn’t budge. “Go ahead. No one’s stopping you.”

I lingered at the door, hoping Savannah would see me out. She didn’t even look up.