I felt like I’d been sucker-punched and was struggling to catch my breath. But looking back, there were small things I ignored. Olivia tended to brush off any serious conversations I wanted to have.
Once, when we talked about finances, she laughed and said, “Oh, my parents have always told me I’d marry someone who’d take care of me.” I thought it was a joke, until now. While everyone placed their food orders, I sat there in awe, mulling over what I’d just heard. When the waiter turned to me, I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu, completely dazed and consumed by what Olivia and her parents had told me.
After the waiter left, Richard continued as if he were negotiating a business merger. “It’s not just about you providing money, of course. My daughter deserves the lifestyle she’s grown accustomed to—vacations, fine dining, spa days, and such.
You’ll need to buy her apartment from us too. We raised her with high standards, after all.”
Diane leaned in. “And eventually, you’ll need a bigger place.
This apartment is fine for now, but our grandchildren will need more space. And when we visit, we expect to have a bedroom dedicated to us.”
My appetite completely vanished as the food was served. Every word out of their mouths felt surreal, and so did the whole evening!
I glanced at Olivia again, but she just sipped her wine, perfectly comfortable. I don’t remember what they spoke about for the rest of the dinner. I occasionally smiled, and I think I chipped in with some comments, but I wasn’t there mentally.
When the check arrived, Richard didn’t even glance at it. He made intense eye contact as he slid it toward me without a word. I paid, my hands trembling.
The drive home was suffocatingly silent. Olivia fiddled with her engagement ring before finally breaking the silence. “So?
What did you think of them?”
I gripped the steering wheel, choosing to handle the matter at hand once and for all. “Honestly? I think I can’t marry you.”
Her head snapped toward me.
“What? Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Because this isn’t love, Olivia.
It’s a business arrangement. Your parents want me to be their retirement plan, and you’re okay with that. That’s not the kind of life I want.”
Her face twisted in disbelief.
“You’re overreacting! It’s just how my family works! You said you loved me!”
“I do—or I did.
But love doesn’t come with conditions like this,” I replied. We argued all the way home. Olivia accused me of being cold, selfish, and unwilling to compromise.
But in my mind, the decision was made. As soon as we got home, I packed my things. The same apartment that once felt so alive now felt like a cage.
I moved in with my brother, Nate, for a while. He didn’t ask questions, just handed me a beer and let me sit in silence. A week later, I bumped into one of Olivia’s friends, who told me her parents were livid, not because I’d broken their daughter’s heart, but because their financial plan had crumbled.
That was all the confirmation I needed. Olivia texted me a few times, saying I was throwing away something amazing. But I knew better.
Love shouldn’t feel like a contract. Months passed, and I slowly started rebuilding my life. I joined a local hiking group, reconnected with old friends, and focused on myself.
I learned that love isn’t just about how someone makes you feel, it’s about how they support you, challenge you, and grow with you. Looking back, I realized that walking away was the best decision I ever made. Sometimes, the “perfect” person turns out to be perfect for all the wrong reasons.
And I’m okay with that. Source: amomama
