Chapter 1: The Price of Ambition

My boyfriend once looked me dead in the eye and asked me to skip the SATs so I could work full-time, funneling my paycheck into his college tuition. The words hit me like a slap—I felt my stomach twist, anger flaring up. Did he really expect me to throw away my future for him? My mind raced, a hundred thoughts colliding: Was this love, or just entitlement?

He promised me that once he made it big, I’d get to live the American dream—a house in the suburbs, summer vacations in Florida, maybe a shiny SUV in the driveway. He painted a picture of luxury, but all I saw were my own dreams slipping away.

I refused, my voice steady but my heart pounding. I didn’t hesitate. I went on to ace my exams and got accepted into one of the best universities in the country.

He called me selfish, his words dripping with accusation. "You just want to ride on someone else's hard work," he said. "You’ll never understand what real love means—real partnership means pulling your own weight."

Ten years later, fate threw us together again. My ex-boyfriend stood beside a delicate-looking woman who clung to his arm like she might break. He smirked at me, voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "Still alone, huh?"

But his wife cut him off, her tone sharp and clear. "Enough. She’s the boss on the client side." The words hung in the air, and for a split second, his face went blank with shock before the conversation shifted.

On the night before the SATs, Trevor Fields leaned across the kitchen table, his voice low and desperate. "Emily, you should drop out and work to support me through college." I stared at him, disbelief and anger swirling inside me. Was he serious? My fingers curled around my pencil, knuckles white, before I finally blurted, "Absolutely not."

The kitchen smelled of fried onions and the hum of the old fridge filled the silence. The flickering light above us made Trevor’s face look pale, almost ghostly. He fidgeted, pulling at the strings of his faded hoodie, and started listing his reasons.

"My mom’s arthritis is getting worse, and she needs someone to look after her. College costs at least $15,000 a year. I can’t do this alone."

I didn’t back down. "Then you’re the one who should drop out and work."

My words made Trevor flush red. He stared down at the cracked linoleum, avoiding my eyes, his hands twisting nervously.

I didn’t sugarcoat it. "Your grades only went up because I tutored you. Why should the person with better grades be the one to sacrifice?"

Trevor never had much fight in him. When he realized he couldn’t sway me, he sent in his mom, hoping she’d soften me up.

Later that night, after homework, I came home to find Mrs. Fields in the living room, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. The TV played an old sitcom, laugh track echoing in the background, but nobody was watching.

"My body’s no good anymore, Emily. I don’t want to be a burden, but maybe it’d be better if I just disappeared. Emily, I took you in without asking for anything. If you ever have time, just come back and say a prayer for me." Her voice trembled, the tissue shaking in her hand.

I sat beside her, squeezing her hand gently. "Mrs. Fields, please don’t think like that. Trevor can apply for student loans, work part-time, and if you need care, he can request a single dorm room and bring you along. I’ll work during school breaks to help with medicine costs." I spoke softly, hoping she’d see reason, but her eyes stayed stubborn and wet.

No matter how I tried to reason, Mrs. Fields wouldn’t budge. She finally dropped the act, her voice rising: "You and Trevor are together, you’ll be husband and wife one day. Why not be a good woman, support your man, help him study, and enjoy the good life when he succeeds? That’s what family’s about."

I stood my ground, arms crossed, voice steady. "My dad told my mom the same thing. After he graduated and saw the world, he looked down on her. The last thing my mom said before she died was, 'Instead of supporting a man’s ambitions, earn your own fortune.'" I could almost hear my mom’s voice in my head, weary but fierce.