Two months before our wedding, my fiancé David sat me down with a “serious” look.
He said: “Babe, I make enough for both of us. Why don’t you quit your job? Focus on the wedding, our future, maybe even kids? You don’t need to stress yourself with work anymore.”
It sounded sweet. Supportive, even. I hesitated — I loved my job, but I loved him more.
So, I resigned. Packed up my office. Said goodbye to my independence.
Three weeks later, I overheard him on the phone with his brother:
“She finally quit. Told you it’d work. Now I’ve got everything in my name and she’s completely dependent.”
My heart dropped.
I didn’t say a word. I acted like everything was fine.
Instead, I called my old boss — begged for my job back. Thankfully, she agreed. I moved my stuff out while David was at work and sent him a note:
“You wanted a dependent wife. Too bad I remembered I was a damn queen.”
Turns out… he already had another woman lined up.
They broke up a month later because he tried to pull the same stunt on her.
Ladies, love isn’t control. And your freedom isn’t negotiable.
