Nodding, he left them alone again.
“It’s not nothing. It was really—”
She waved a hand. “Ask your question.”
He sighed. She had a serious problem with accepting compliments. “Fine. We talked about my childhood and what made me the way I am today, so I think it’s only fair I get to do the same.”
Stiffening, she gestured for him to go on.
“You said that you used to have money, but don’t anymore. I also have the distinct impression you don’t like being around money or having a lot of it. Why is that?”
She covered her face with her hands, letting out a groan.
“It’s of equal value,” he argued. “It clearly shaped you into who you are today, just like my childhood did. So it’s a valid question.”
“I know,” she admitted, pale enough to have seen a ghost. “But it doesn’t mean I want to answer it.”
He quirked a brow. He’d earned a question fair and square and wasn’t going to back down just because she didn’t like the one he picked.
“My parents let money ruin their lives. They became so greedy, so impossibly greedy, that they forgot everything that mattered, just to add another comma or two to their bank account. They did whatever it took to get where they wanted to get, not caring how it affected others, and in the end, they lost everything…including me.”
She played with her placemat.
What the hell had her parents done that had cost them their child? Had they broken the law in their quest for commas? Were they in jail? He had so many questions that had more questions inside them. He bit them back, letting her speak at her own speed.
“The worst part was, we had a lot of money already. They just wanted more.” She took a breath, meeting his eyes for the first time since speaking. The pain, fear, and anger had him reaching out to cover her hand with his. And he didn’t let go. “In the wrong hands, money can be evil, and it can lead good people to do really bad things. I decided after losing it all that I never wanted to have it again. I don’t want to be tempted to fall into the same trap they did. I pay my bills, I do what needs to be done, and whatever is left over goes to charity. I don’t want any extra commas in my account, not like them.”
He gripped his knee with his free hand, understanding so much more about her now. Her dislike of money and all it could bring to the table made sense, but, selfishly, he couldn’t help but wonder… Where did that leave him? After all, he had a lot of it, and if she wanted nothing to do with his wealth… “What happens if something goes wrong and you only have one comma in your account? Broken pipes? Check engine light on in your car?”
“I don’t have a car, and I rent, so I’d call my landlord,” she said, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She’d probably worried he would press for more information, but he’d promised not to. She wasn’t the only one who stuck to her word. “But if there’s an emergency, I have my credit cards. When I use them, I pay them off as quickly as possible, sometimes with one check, and then I go back to donating my extra cash. I don’t want it sitting there, tempting me to splurge on crap I don’t need. I prefer to live a simpler life.”
“That’s—admirable.” He shifted, picturing the commas in his bank account.
Granted, he worked hard for that cash and had earned every cent, and he liked having a cushion after years of having nothing. But how much was too much?
At what point did he become just as greedy as her parents had been?
“Do you still talk to them?” he asked slowly.
She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “No.”
So, she’d walked away from them.
Her parents.
Over money.
If that was true, how could he expect her to stay with him? Wait. What the fuck? He didn’t want her to stay. Not forever. Just for a little while. Right? Shit. He was losing his mind.
“What if you fell in love with someone who had it?”
She cocked her head, blinking. “Who had what?”
“Money,” he managed to say, way too exposed.
Swallowing, she shook her head, not meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t.”
“But if you did?”