A few days later, Ethan called. I wasn’t surprised by his tone—he wasn’t apologizing.
He was angry.
“You embarrassed me in front of my parents, Claire. You could’ve just paid the bill and avoided all this drama,” he snapped, frustration dripping from every word.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Ethan, it wasn’t about the bill.
It was about respect. I’m not a wallet for your family to dip into whenever they feel like it.”
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” he argued. “It was just one dinner.”
“No, Ethan,” I said firmly, my voice unwavering.
“It’s more than that. I won’t be used for my money. I need you to understand that.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he finally spoke.
“I think we need some space,” he said coldly.
“Maybe you’re right,” I replied, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me. “I need time to figure out if this is the kind of marriage I want.”
With that, I hung up, knowing the real conversation was just beginning.
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Source: amomama
