I wasn’t snooping — I just wanted a recipe. I opened Eli’s tablet, and a message popped up:”You need more money?”It was from my dad.I called him, confused.“Why are you sending Eli money?”He said, “Because he asked. He wanted you to live the way you’re used to.”Then added, laughing, “You wanted that ring. He couldn’t have gotten it without me.”
That’s when my stomach turned. I was still wearing a cracked silver-plated ring from when I was 23. There was never a real one.Later, I looked through Eli’s messages — and found a charge:
$800 — Grayson & Finch Jewelers.We’d been living paycheck to paycheck. I didn’t understand.When Eli came home, I asked him directly. He didn’t deny it. He just said, “Sit down.”
Then came the truth.He took money from my dad — not to spend, but to start his own construction business.“I thought I could pay him back before it got out of hand,” he said. “I was ashamed.”I was stunned. “You should’ve told me.”“I was going to,” he said. “Today.”Then he pulled out a velvet box. Inside was a gold band with a ruby.“I bought it this morning. With my first real profit.”
The next day, he paid my father back. Every cent. No more secrets. No more guilt.That night, we picked out paint for our bedroom. Sage green. A reset.I looked at Eli and said, “I didn’t marry you for what you could become. But watching you become it? That’s the gift.”He smiled.“You’ve always been real. I just needed to catch up.”And in that moment, I realized:We didn’t need to be rescued.We just needed to rebuild — together.