“I don’t think money necessarily makes you happy,” she says. “You know what I mean? I think you can be happy with money and sad with money.”

“Right,” I say, because I don’t really want to say anything. I just want to listen to what she has to say.

“Frank—my ex-fiancé—he had money. Not Colorado Club money, but he was very comfortable. To me, and probably to most people in our town, he was rich.”

“But he wasn’t happy?”

“No,” she says. “I think he was. I just don’t think I would have been happy with him.”

“And you were marrying him for the money?” I hope she can’t hear the edge in my voice.

“No,” she says, her voice bright, like she’s not offended by my question. “Not for me, anyway. I think it was the safety for my family. Frank is kind and generous, and my mom loves him. I have three sisters who… let’s just say I’m the oldest and the most sensible. Frank’s given one of them a job. He represented a secure, dependable future.”

“But you didn’t marry him.”

She pulls in a deep breath. “It wasn’t enough. I didn’t love him.” She takes a sip of her drink. “And honestly, I think it was important for him to take care of me—in every sense. I was going to live in the home he bought years before we met. I worked at his garage. I slotted into his life. That worked for him. It gave him a sense of control.”

“I think that sounds like it could be… constraining for you.”

She gasps, and I feel her body shift beside me. “Constrained. That’s exactly how I felt in Oregon. It was like I was living in a box and could feel every edge. Every corner. I knew every inch of that box, and if I married Frank, it was all I’d ever know.” She takes a sip of her drink. “I sound ridiculous.”

“I don’t think you sound ridiculous at all.” I can’t say it to her, but I think the way she’s describing her life is kind of poetic. And more than a little sad.

“My mom would definitely think I was being ridiculous. I guess that’s why I’m in Star Falls and not back in Oregon.”

“Because of your mom, not your fiancé?”

She pauses as if she’s really considering my question—like what I’ve asked her is important and she wants to give it due consideration. The way we’re talking, it’s like we’ve known each other years rather than days. “Frank was a meal ticket for her. She knew she’d never have to worry about rent or bills as long as Frank was in the family.” She glances down at her mug, like she doesn’t like what she just admitted.