Then he spoke.
Clear. Steady.
“I know many of you are wondering why Maria chose me. Or why she would even consider marrying a man who… well, some of you think has nothing to offer.”
No one said a word, but the judgment was palpable.
“I know the whispers: that I’m a freeloader, that I just want comfort or a roof over my head.”
I felt my chest tighten, the ache of wanting to run to him, to hug him, to tell him he didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. But something inside me told me: let him finish.
Voir la suite sur la page suivante:
