2/ They Wanted Me to Marry for Profit — So I Chose Love Instead
Her name was Maya. A painter I met in a cramped gallery on a rainy Thursday. No designer heels, no family fortune. Just wide eyes, honest laughter, and paint-stained fingers that touched my soul. With her, I wasn’t a product—I was a person. When I told my parents I was turning down the “deal,” they…
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