“Are you angry?” he asked, suddenly uncertain.
“That you’re rich? No.
That you kept it from me? A little,” I admitted. “But I understand why you did it.”
Brian took both my hands in his.
“Do you still want to marry me?”
I didn’t hesitate.
“More than ever,” I replied, and grabbed his face, kissing him right there at the altar.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
My mother turned and ran out of the venue, humiliated.
Dad stayed, tears in his eyes as he hugged us both after the ceremony.
“I had no idea,” he kept saying. “None at all.”
“Would it have mattered?” Brian asked him.
Dad smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Not one bit, son.
Not one bit.”
We got married and had the most beautiful reception. Brian’s parents, who flew in secretly for the ceremony, were lovely people who welcomed me with open arms.
They explained their absence during the engagement. They’d been traveling abroad for charity work, something they did often with their fortune.
Later that night, as we danced under the stars, my phone buzzed with a text from Dad:
“Your mother won’t be speaking to you for a while.
But between us? I’ve never been more proud of you. Brian is exactly the kind of man I always hoped you’d find… one who values you above everything else.
Money or no money.”
I showed Brian the message, and he smiled.
“Your dad’s a wise man.”
“Unlike my mother,” I sighed.
Brian pulled me closer. “You know, in all the great novels, the villains aren’t evil because they’re poor or rich. They’re evil because they value the wrong things.”
“Is that from Gatsby?” I teased.
“No,” he laughed.
“That one’s all mine.”
As we swayed under the twinkling lights, surrounded by books and love, I realized something profound: The true measure of wealth isn’t in bank accounts or status symbols… it’s in having the courage to live authentically and love completely.
My mother might never understand that, but I had found a partner who embodied it perfectly. And that made me the richest woman in the world.
Source: amomama
