Joaquin fell silent.
He didn’t hate Yehua—but he didn’t love her either. Not enough to imagine a future with her.
He thought of her as someone too easily swayed by her family. She gave her money to her brothers, listened to her mother’s every word.
Yes, he made a good living, but money didn’t come easily. And the thought of a future wife using their hard-earned savings to support her family irritated him.
In truth, Joaquin despised her background. He just refused to admit that his own situation wasn’t any better.
If he were honest, he and Yehua were more alike than he wanted to believe.
“I’m just… tired,” Joaquin said at last, laughing bitterly. He reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink. “Want another round? Come on, let’s drink until we’re both drunk. If you can’t work tomorrow, I’ll give you the day off.”
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