It was your first anniversary, and everything had already been planned. Bobby was supposed to pick you up and take you to a high-end restaurant, much fancier than your usual go-to spots. He had never mentioned the difference in your financial statuses before, always assuring you that money would never become an issue.

When you heard a car horn, indicating he was parked in front of your house, you rushed out to greet him. As soon as you sat down in the passenger seat and he looked you over, his smile visibly faded, and his brows furrowed.

"Are you sure you want to go in that? It might stand out there..."

Your heart sank. You had really made an effort to look your best. Knowing it still wasn't enough made you feel like maybe you didn't belong in his world after all. You stormed out of the car, blocking out his voice as he called after you.

He was mad at himself for wording it so harshly; he just didn't want you to face the judgmental eyes of the rich. He knew all too well how cruel they could be.

"Por favor, amor, don't be mad!" he pleaded, realizing how badly he had messed up. "I didn't mean to hurt you..."