Nelly looked at Joe with tired eyes and sighed.
“No one wants the sick girl unless they inherit her money,” she said quietly. “Just look at Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco. That’s how people see the world.”
Joe gently shook his head.
“My love is free,” he replied. “It isn’t for sale, and it doesn’t come with conditions. It isn’t about money, fame, or what someone can inherit. It’s about standing beside someone because they’re a human being who deserves kindness, respect, and loyalty.”
Nelly studied his face for a moment.
“So you’d still be here if I had nothing?”
Joe smiled.
“Especially then. Love that depends on wealth isn’t love—it’s a business deal. Real love is measured by how you treat someone when they need you most, not by what they can give you in return.”
Nelly’s expression softened.
“I wish more people believed that.”
“So do I,” Joe answered. “But I can only speak for myself. My love is freely given, expecting nothing in return except honesty and mutual care.”
“I have my own struggles too. Sometimes I cry in my sleep. I wake up with tears on my face from dreams I can’t even remember. It reminds me that everyone carries wounds you can’t always see. That’s why I could never judge someone for being sick or vulnerable.”
Nelly reached over and gently squeezed his hand. “Then maybe that’s why your love feels different,” she said. “You know what it’s like to hurt, so you understand compassion.”
Joe smiled faintly. “Real love isn’t measured by health, wealth, or appearances. It’s measured by whether you stay when life becomes difficult.”
