The Girl Who Read The Dating Manual

rule fifteen: never give up

                  "But you walked out when they gave you the ultimatum. You apologized to me for it."

                  "I apologized to you because I was sorry you had to witness that. And I chased after them to try to convince them not to take the money away. We need that to live, Candice. Without it, we don't have a home and we can't have a wedding. I was trying to convince them not to abandon their son. I wasn't leaving you. Do you really think I could do that to you?"

                  "I thought..." I whispered, though I realized that in the heat of the moment it would have been so easy to get our wires crossed. And it made total sense.

                  He shook his head. "I can't believe you could ever think even for a second I'd choose money over the love of my life. Is that what you think of me?"

                  "No!" I said. "I don't. But what the hell else was I supposed to think? You left me."

                  "I did it for us," he said. "So we could live comfortably."

                  "And what did they say?" I whispered.

                  He shook his head. "They won't budge. They're convinced if they can freeze my accounts and shut me out, I'll come crawling back."

                  "And will you?" I replied.

                  "Do you even have to ask?" he replied.

                  "Will, we don't need your parents' money," I told him slowly. "We both have well-paying jobs. We can make it through this. We just have to think more carefully."

                  "Don't you get it?" he yelled. "Without my inheritance we have nothing! We're getting evicted from our home. And we don't have a hope in hell of getting good credit from the apartment block. Nowhere will take us. We have nothing!"

                  "We have each other," I argued. "And I thought that was enough for you."

                  He leaned against the brick and slid down to hit the ground. He put his head in his hands, and I slowly walked to sit next to him. "You don't get it, Candice. And you never will."

                  "Then make me get it," I whispered.

                  He looked up at me, and I saw his lashes were dusted with light tears. "I wanted to give you everything," he whispered. "I wanted to know I could buy you a diamond necklace or perfume or a bouquet of roses when I wanted to."

                  "I don't want those things," I argued. "I'm just as happy with a DVD and mac and cheese on the couch."

                  "You deserve better than what I can give you now," he said. "You deserve better than some low-budget rom-com and pasta. You deserve expensive champagne and anything you could ever want. And without my parents I can't give you a place to live, much less something like that."

                  "We'll figure something out, just like we always do," I told him. "This isn't the end. And if we let it, then your parents win. And you and I can't let that happen."

                  "What are we supposed to do?" he whispered. "We have nothing, Candice. Us winning against our parents won't give us a place to live. Either way, we both lose."

                  "I don't know what you want me to say," I whispered, feeling my eyes well with tears. "I'm willing to fight for us, but if you're not, then maybe you'd be happier with your trust fund than you are with me."