“Julian told you?” Noah asked softly, his voice cracking.
The lawyer nodded respectfully. “The marriage license was filed in the city records this morning, Noah. My duty is fulfilled. The funds have been unlocked.” He handed Noah a final set of papers, bowed his head slightly, and quietly walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.
I stood in the center of our living room, surrounded by our mismatched, secondhand furniture, holding millions of dollars in my shaking hands. “Six months, Noah? You’ve known for six months that we didn’t have to struggle to pay rent? That we didn’t have to skip meals?”
Noah dropped his gaze, his shoulders slumping. “Maya, please listen to me. When I found out, I was terrified. All my life, people looked at me and saw a burden. Then you came along, and you loved me when I had absolutely nothing. I was so scared that if I told you about the money before the wedding, it would change us. I wanted our marriage to be built entirely on the truth of who we are, not a lottery ticket.”
