Chapter 3 - The Illusory Romance
The courtship was everything I had ever dreamed of. It was a stark, beautiful contrast to the cold, transactional relationships I had witnessed in my mother's high-society circles.
Diego brought me hand-picked wildflowers instead of imported roses. He walked with me through public parks, holding my hand and talking passionately about his dreams of starting his own construction company.
"We won't need millions to be happy," he whispered to me one evening under the stars.
"Just a small house, you, me, and our future children."
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I fell for it completely. I fell for the illusion of a man who valued character over capital. I was so utterly starved for unconditional affection that I ignored the tiny, almost imperceptible cracks in his facade.
I didn't notice how his eyes would linger a fraction of a second too long on expensive cars passing by, or how he would subtly complain about the cost of our modest dates, always letting me pick up the tab with my "assistant's salary." I was completely, hopelessly blind.
