Chapter 4: The Truth About Wealth

The New York trip went as planned. In those muddled seven days, I pieced together his family background. I didn’t need to investigate much—just asked his parents’ names and searched online. There were all kinds of political and business titles, company names, industries, stock info. He was the only son. The only heir.

I scrolled through endless articles and photos, each one more intimidating than the last. Forbes, Wall Street Journal, and business blogs all featured his family. Suddenly, I felt very small.

I knew what that meant. Maybe some families are progressive and let daughters inherit. Maybe some insist on at least three sons to choose from. Either way, children were a must.

I pictured boardroom meetings, country club parties, and family holidays at sprawling estates. I knew I’d never fit in. The idea of having kids just to satisfy someone else’s legacy made my skin crawl.

But I didn’t want any children at all.

The thought of giving up my dreams for a life I didn’t choose terrified me. I wanted freedom, not expectations.

Of course, breaking up wasn’t just for this reason. Maybe Harrison never even considered marrying me. Bringing up children made me sound like I was planning too far ahead, as if I was set on him for life. Out of pride, fear, and a deep sense of inferiority, I broke up with him using a clumsy excuse—after our trip, I claimed our personalities didn’t match.

I spent hours rehearsing my speech, trying to sound detached. But my voice shook, and I couldn’t look him in the eye. He listened, silent, then nodded as if he understood. I knew he didn’t.

Harrison called me, on and off, for seven days. After I blocked him, he flew overnight to the city where my phone’s location showed I was. But he didn’t know anyone there, had no friends or family in the city. So he wandered the streets alone, watching the crowds and traffic. He asked all our mutual friends to beg me to meet with him and let him explain.