The Offer

By Alexandra Kernerman Vogelhut                                                                      Word Count: 481

I’ve had a number of offers before. Not too many offers, but a good amount. Usually online and impersonal. They often start with a comment about my looks or about how they’re looking for someone to keep them company. Every once in a while they beg.

I never really took any of them seriously until I met him. He didn’t meet me online, and when I was referred to him by a friend I thought I’d just be going on a blind date.

We met for coffee and chatted. He was slim, professional, and not unattractive by any means. It definitely could have been worse. The conversation drifted lazily around my school and where he worked. He hinted at a vast fortune passed down over a few generations. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

I could feel like we clicked even though he wasn’t someone I would usually date. His hair was once thick but was on it’s way to thinning, and his leanness was kept by his diet not exercise. I felt superior and at the same time like there’s no way I was worth his time.

The offer didn’t come as a surprise. After speaking about my student loans and my small apartment, it was almost as if he was offering charity. But that wasn’t what it was. My finances weren’t bad, but they weren’t good either.

As we spoke a little more about what the relationship would look like, a huge weight started to leave my shoulders. It was like I was looking for this man to come into my life and lift the stress from me. I said yes.

The financial stress was gone but another worry set in. I began to question myself. Who am I now that I’m taking this man’s money? Is this worth it?

More and more, the situation wasn’t one that served me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was selling myself short. Some people can do that… I guess I couldn’t make it work.

So I broke it off, before ever making a penny, or wasting any time. And now I sit in my apartment. The walls aren’t bare but it feels like they are. The bed isn’t small but I know it isn’t big. My job pays for what I need it to.

That’s what I tell myself.

Looking back I think that many of my problems could have been solved by saying ‘yes’ to him. Saying it more than just the first time. Yes… And the debts are gone. Yes… And the apartment is better. Yes… And I can finally take a trip. Yes… And I can get a car. Yes…

My answer was no. No to all that freedom, in exchange for keeping my own. I wonder; if I had said ‘yes’ to him… Would I wish I’d said ‘no’?


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