Page 30 of Forbidden Fruit

“Yeah. My lease is up next month, and now that Clive’s generosity has run dry, my mother refuses to pay for such an expensive place. I don’t want to move to Queens when you have a place in the Upper West Side. Besides, your place is closer to where I’ll be working anyway.” He takes a sip of champagne, looking pleased with himself. “It makes financial sense.”

“So... you want to move in with me to save money on rent?” I clarify, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.

“Well, yeah. And we’ve been together forever, so it’s the logical next step, right?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’ll be easier for me to focus on this business if I don’t have to worry about housing costs for a while.”

For a while. The words echo in my head. Not forever. Not marriage. Just... for a while.

“I thought...” I start, then stop myself. What’s the point in saying I thought he was going to propose? That I’ve been waiting, planning, hoping for years?

“What?” Jack asks, already distracted again, his eyes darting to his phone as it buzzes on the table.

“Nothing.” I take a large sip of champagne, feeling it fizz unpleasantly in my empty stomach. “Tell me more about this business opportunity.”

Jack’s face lights up, and he launches into a detailed explanation that I struggle to follow. Something about blockchain and artificial intelligence. I nod at appropriate intervals, but my mind wanders.

I think of Clive’s words by the pool. “You deserve someone who looks at you like you’re the center of their universe.” Has Jack ever looked at me that way? Has he ever even really seen me?

“...so basically, I’ll need to focus completely on this for the next year or so,” Jack says. “This means I might not bring in much income at first.”

Ah. There it is.

“You want me to support you,” I say flatly.

Jack has the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “Just temporarily. Once we get the first round of funding?—”

“We?”

“Me and my partners,” he clarifies. “Look, I know it’s asking a lot, but think of it as an investment in our future.”

Our future. The future where I work sixty-hour weeks planning other people’s dream weddings while subsidizing Jack’s latest venture. The future where I wait patiently for him to decide I’m worth committing to.

“What about marriage?” I ask suddenly, the words escaping before I can stop them.

Jack’s expression freezes. “What about it?”

“We’ve been together five years, Jack. Don’t you think about it?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “I mean, sure, eventually. But with this business opportunity?—”

“Right,” I interrupt. “Bad timing.”

“Exactly,” he says, relieved. “I knew you’d understand. You always do.”

I do, don’t I? I always understand. I always accommodate. I always wait.

“So, what do you think?” Jack presses. “About moving in?”

I look at him across the candlelit table, this man I’ve built my future around, and for the first time, I see him clearly. It’s not the idealized version I’ve clung to, but the real Jack—self-absorbed, entitled, and utterly oblivious to my needs and wants.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “It’s a big step.”

Jack frowns, clearly not expecting resistance. “We’ve been together five years, Becca. How is this a big decision?”

“Moving in together should be about wanting to build a life together, not about convenient rent.”

He sighs dramatically. “Why are you making this so complicated? It’s practical. We’re practically married anyway.”

“Practically married?” I repeat, my voice rising slightly. “Jack, you just said marriage isn’t even on your radar right now.”

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