Page 36 of Ansel

His mouth pressed into a thin line. “I hope I have that kind of courage one day,” he admitted finally.

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “When you’re ready, you will.”

Two weeks later, after a farewell party at work that even Neha attended, I walked out of Sterling, holding the hand of the love of my life, without looking back.

16

BUILDING SOMETHING REAL

NEHA

Six months ago, Ansel left Sterling & Co. Investments, walking away from a career in high finance and a high six-figure salary.

I worried he’d regret it, and miss the thrill of big dollar deals. After all, he had spent his entire career climbing the corporate ladder. But he surprised me, and I think himself, by enjoying what he considered his time off to figure out what he wanted to do as he said, when he grows up.

He spoke to many people in his network, toyed with different ideas, and, in between making espressos and lattes at Sun & Chai, mapped out a business plan that he said made him hopeful. He hadn’t told me much about it, and I understood his need to do this himself—work out the kinks and get comfortable with it before sharing.

But today, he was ready to let me in, and I couldn’t wait to hear his plans.

“So, what do you think?” he asked as we entered the fifth modern office space we had toured that day.

His hands rested casually in his pockets as his eyes swept over a sunlit room that boasted an open layout, sleek contemporary furniture, and an inviting buzz of untapped possibility.

The other four had been total duds, but this one….

“Can you hear that?” I put a hand behind my ear.

“What?” Ansel looked around the room.

“The whisper of promises.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed the side of my head. “You see promise here?”

“Yep. Now, tell me what is it that you’ll be doing?” I pulled away from him and sat on an office chair.

Ansel pulled out his phone, flipped through some screens, and handed it to me.

Tyler & Rao Microfinance Initiative.

I looked at him flabbergasted. Of all the things I thought he’d do this one hadn’t been on my bingo card.

“There’s more.”

He opened a document on his phone, and I quickly scanned its contents: financial projections, operational costs, and an initial investment plan.

My breath hitched. “A microloaning firm, that’s what you’ve been working on?”

Ansel nodded. “A global one. Focused on helping women start businesses. Small-scale lending, sustainable economic growth, investing in communities that traditional banks ignore.” He paused, watching me closely. "I know you’re passionate about this. So, I figured—why not actually do something with this?"

I was absolutely floored.

I was a huge fan of Muhammad Yunus, the Nobel Prize-winning economist from Bangladesh, who pioneered this kind of microfinance model decades ago, proving that small, low-interest loans could change lives. It wasn’t charity. It was empowerment—giving women, especially in developing countries, the financial independence to build businesses, support their families, and lift entire communities.

And Ansel—the man who once cared only about seven-figure M&A deals and corporate power plays—was now telling me this modest business was what he wanted to run.

I handed him his phone back. “You’re serious about this?” I asked unnecessarily.

He dipped his head and kissed my nose. “Dead serious.”

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