You know how they ask, “Does anyone object?” at weddings? “Most people just sit there and don’t do anything. My mother? She thought it would be a good way to damage my future in front of everyone. But she didn’t realize that my fiancé, Noah, had the perfect answer that would make her feel ashamed and leave the wedding.
Let me take you back to the beginning.
I saw Noah in the subway, which was the last place I thought I’d see him. There were only a few tired folks going home on the train at almost midnight.
I was a nurse and had just worked a hard 12-hour shift at the hospital. When I saw him, I was almost melting into the plastic seat. A man in a worn hoodie and scuffed sneakers sat across from me, reading an old copy of The Great Gatsby. His forehead was wrinkled, and it was clear that his mind was somewhere else, far away from that train car.
I kept looking at him again and again. 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 forget where you are.”
I smiled back. “I don’t know.” I haven’t read it yet.
His eyes lit up. “Never? You don’t have everything you need.
“Long shifts don’t give you much time to read.”
He shook his head. “That makes sense.” If we meet again, I’ll still let you borrow my copy.
“Maybe,” I said, not expecting I would ever see him again.
He turned around as he got off at the next station and said, “Sometimes the best stories come to us when we least expect them.”
A week later, fate brought us back together in a significant manner.
Because it being rush hour, the train was full. Someone pulled hard on my purse and fled for the door when I was standing at the door and holding on to a rail.
“Hey! Stop him! I cried, but no one did anything.
Not Noah.
He surged through the crowd, shoving others who were surprised out of the way. At the next stop, he and the thief both collapsed onto the platform. I went after them in a panic.
When I got there, the robber was gone, and Noah was sitting on the ground, out of breath, with my wallet in his hand. He had a small cut above his eyebrow that was bleeding.
As I helped him up, I said, “You have a knack for making dramatic entrances.”
He smiled. “I still have to give you a copy of Gatsby.”
That night, I bought him coffee to show my thanks. We ended up having dinner after one cup of coffee. We walked home after dinner. The kiss at the end of the trek made my knees weak.
Six months later, we were in love.
How about my mom? She didn’t like him.
“A librarian? She giggled when I told her. “Emma, really? “You could do a lot better than that.”
I said, “He makes me happy,” and I tried not to get angry.
“Happiness doesn’t pay the bills,” she said with a snort.
People have different opinions about my mother Patricia. Some say she’s “aspirational,” while others say she’s “delusional.” She’s acted like we’re wealthy than we are for her whole adult life. She wears fancy clothes, drops names at parties, and talks about vacations that are really just weekend trips that she took pictures of.
When Noah asked me to marry him with a simple yet gorgeous sapphire ring, I was overjoyed.
He said, “It reminded me of your eyes,” as he put it on my finger.
When I showed her, my mom’s nose wrinkled.
“That’s it? Not quite a full carat?
“Mom, it’s perfect.”
“I guess it can be better later.”
My family and Noah’s first meeting was a disaster.
My mom donned her most costly jewelry and talked about her “close friend in Monaco who owns a yacht” all the time. I think that guy doesn’t exist 90% of the time.
It was kind of Noah to be kind and friendly. He complimented the design, asked insightful questions about my mom’s charity work, and brought a bottle of wine that was so rare that my dad, Robert, lit up.
“How did you get this?” “Hey, Dad,” he said as he turned the bottle around in his hands.
Noah said, “It’s from a small vineyard in Napa.” “The owner is a friend of the family.”
My mom narrowed her eyes. “Are you talking about family friends who own vineyards?” How useful.
“Patricia,” my dad whispered softly.
She didn’t seem to mind when she took a taste of her wine.
My dad pulled me aside later that night. “I like him.” He’s a kind man.
“Thanks, Dad.”
He said, “She’ll come around,” but it was evident that he wasn’t sure.
“I’ll marry him no matter what she says.”
Things became worse over the next few months. Mom made fun of everything about Noah, from his job (“Books are a dying industry!”) to his clothes (“Can’t he buy something that fits?”). She also poked fun of the ancient library where Noah’s wedding took place.
The night before the wedding, she sat on the edge of my bed and murmured, “It’s not too late, Emma.” People will understand.
I glanced at her. “I love him.”
“Love fades.” Not cash.
“He makes me feel safe.”
“With what?” “Hardcover books?”
I got out of bed. “Father showed me how to find joy. That’s what I’m doing.
She let out a sigh. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.” But don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“Just promise me you won’t make a scene.”
She touched her heart. “Only what’s best for you.”
That should have been a sign.
The weather was perfect for our wedding. The stained glass windows in the first library let in a lot of light. People sat down in the middle of old novels. The air smelled like parchment and flowers.
My dad walked me down the aisle while the music played. I saw Noah waiting with bright eyes.
Dad took my hand and remarked, “You’re breathtaking.”
The ceremony was lovely until the person in charge said, “If anyone has a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Stop talking.
Then there was the sound of silk rustling.
When I turned around, I saw my mom. My stomach dropped.
She said in a theatrical fashion, “I just need to tell the truth,” and wiped 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 might have married a doctor. A lawyer. He is a determined man. Instead, she’s wasting her life on this.
Gasped. Whispers. The person in charge even paused.
It looked like my dad was terribly ashamed. I thought I couldn’t move.
Then Noah gently held my hand and stared at her.
He said in a low voice, “You’re right.” “She really does deserve the best.”
My mother’s face brightened up with happiness.
Then Noah removed a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and offered it to her.
She asked, “What is this?” in a confused voice.
“Your credit report,” he continued.
There was no sound in the room.
Her face turned white as she read the page.
Noah added, “I looked into the person who talks a lot about money.” “Looks like you have a lot of credit card debt, are behind on your second mortgage, and just got turned down for a loan.”
The crowd gasped.
“You invaded my privacy!” she cried.
Noah smiled. “I looked into your past. This is something that most people do before they get married. And I wanted to know why you didn’t like me so much.
He paused for a moment.
“But since we’re being honest, let me add one more.”
He looked at the crowd, then back at her.
“I have a billion dollars.”
There was no sound at all. Someone dropped a glass of champagne.
“What? I whispered while staring at him.
He looked at me with lovely eyes. “I didn’t want you to love me for my money.” So I lived a modest existence. I do it because I adore being a librarian. But I also own that library. And some others. Real estate, along with investments… We don’t show off our old money, even though we have it.
He turned to gaze at my mom.
“Your daughter never cared about what I had.” That’s why I want to marry her.
My mom stood immobile, and her lips moved like a fish’s.
Noah said to me, “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 about it. “More than ever.”
I kissed him right there at the altar, and everyone in the room shouted.
My mom went without saying anything.
The rest of the wedding felt like a dream. Noah’s parents, who had flown in quietly, were nice and welcoming. They had been doing humanitarian work in other countries and wished to stay out of the public eye. They were like family to me.
Later, while I was dancing under fairy lights, my dad sent me a text:
Your mom isn’t going to talk to you for a time. But between us? This is the most proud I’ve ever been. Noah is the kind of man I always hoped you would find: someone who loves you more than anything else. With or without cash.
I told Noah. He smiled.
“Your dad is a smart man.”
“Not like my mom,” I said.
He hugged me tightly. “In all the best stories, the bad guys aren’t nasty because they have money or don’t have money. They are bad because they want the wrong things.
“Is that Fitzgerald?”
“Nope.” That one is mine.
As we swayed in the starlight and listened to stories, I realized that the actual fairy tale wasn’t the drama at the altar or the surprising riches. It was discovering someone who loved me for who I truly was, not who I looked like.
That feeling made me feel like the richest woman in the world more than anything else.