I had foolishly hoped for at least a semblance of guilt or sorrow from her, but I was wrong. I stared at my reflection, a ghost in the body of a man reborn. She was right about one thing: the living must live. But this time, it would be on my terms.
In my previous life, Sofia and Lewis were inseparable, their love story abruptly halted by the iron grip of her parents. Our paths intersected through the choreographed dance of arranged marriage. After just two brief meetings, Sofia acquiesced to my proposal.
Yet, her consent came with a caveat. "You're a good man, but there's one thing," she said bluntly. "You must give me a dowry of forty thousand dollars."
A surge of hope and anticipation filled me as I envisioned a future with Sofia. I genuinely liked her and wanted to build a life together.
Sofia had been tightly controlled by her parents from childhood, with no freedom to speak of. To liberate her, even in a small way, seemed like a noble gesture. With a heart full of optimism, I drained my savings, each withdrawn bill a silent pledge to our future.