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"I h-have to, George."

"No, you don't."

"We barely know each other—" she wants to say more, but he grabs her wrists. The sudden notion catches her off guard and she gasps. "George!"

"You can't marry Michael, Ella. Listen, I don't give a shit if you want to be with me or not."

"Th-Then why are you doing this?" She wants to sound firm, but her words come out soft and shaky.

"Because I care about you."

"What on earth does that mean?"

He sighs. His once-hard expression softens and he looks at the young woman with sympathetic eyes.

"Listen, Ella. Michael is—"

At that moment, there is a knock at the door.

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