I want to slap her. Want to tell her to get out of my house and never come back.
But I don't. Because that would give her exactly what she wants.
"I'm not trying to keep up with anyone," I say.
"Of course you are." She starts toward the door. "I'm just saying, when he goes pro, that lifestyle can be intoxicating. It changes people."
"Thanks for the concern. I'll manage."
"I'm sure you will!" She waves. "See you around!"
I watch her walk away, my hands shaking with anger.
She's doing this on purpose—planting seeds of doubt and making me question whether I'm good enough for Declan's world.
And the worst part? It's working.
After paying my share of rent, buying textbooks, and covering basic expenses, I’m lucky to have enough money to buy coffee.
I think about his dad's penthouse. The expensive restaurants. The casual way his father dropped hundreds on dinner without blinking.
I think about the future—if Declan goes pro, he'll make millions. He'll have the kind of life people dream about.
And I'll be making fifty grand a year as a lab technician, living in a studio apartment, and counting pennies.
How long before he realizes I don't fit in his world? How long before fancy dinners and first-class travel become normal for him, and coming home to me feels like slumming it?
I hate myself for thinking this way.
Declan isn't like that. He's never made me feel inferior because of money. He doesn't care that I work at a restaurant or that I buy generic cereal.
But his father cares. And Bree cares. And probably a lot of other people in his world care.
Will that eventually matter?
My phone buzzes.
Declan:Miss you. Can't wait to see you tonight.
My heart aches reading it.
Me:Miss you, too. I get off work at 10.
Declan:I'll be here waiting.
I stare at the messages, wanting to believe that's enough. That love conquers all. That money doesn't matter.
But I've seen enough of the world to know that's not always true.
Money doesn't buy happiness, but it does buy security. Options. A life where you don't have to check your bank account before buying coffee.
And I don't have that.
I never will, not really. Even with my forensics job, I'll be comfortable but not wealthy. I'll be middle-class in a world where Declan will be elite.
Chapter Nine
DECLAN
