My Fiancé’s Rich Parents Wanted Me to Quit My Job After Marriage – I Offered a Deal, They Lost Their Minds
A picture-perfect daughter-in-law who stayed at home, cooked, and cleaned was what my fiancé’s rich parents desired. They thought that my earning more than their golden son undermined his masculinity. I was asked to resign from my work after getting married. They gasped as I accepted, but with one exception.
I’m Abbie. My job pays $170,000 a year, and I’m 27 years old. Tim, my fiancé, teaches third grade because he truly enjoys molding young brains, not because his trust fund is insufficient to support a lifestyle of luxury. He’s also from a wealthy family.
If that causes discomfort to some, I don’t care. Last Friday, however, Tim’s parents determined that my independence was negotiable in a home that included monogrammed flatware and $30,000 worth of carpeting.
Dinner was all that was planned. A warm evening on July 4th. In addition to packing a bottle of California red and wearing a sundress, I promised myself that I would handle the uncomfortable “so how are the wedding plans” questions.
I sat in Tim’s parents’ immaculate dining room across from them, the bubbles of champagne dissolving on my tongue. Oil paintings of grim-faced ancestors adorn mahogany walls, which are dotted with swirling shadows cast by crystal chandeliers.
“Abbie, darling,” said Michelle, my future mother-in-law, with that special tone that rich ladies use when they’re going to say something they believe you’ll like. “We’ve been meaning to discuss your… situation.”
I put the fork down. “My situation?”
While he adjusted his gold cufflinks, Tim’s father, Arnold, cleared his throat. “Your career, naturally. Following the wedding, you will remain at home. It is to be expected.”
I had a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”
Tim’s plate clattered against his fork. He avoided looking at me.
“We’ve always thought a man should support his family,” Michelle added. Since you make more money than Tim, there is an imbalance. It calls into question the ideal of marriage.
I stopped. “What should marriage be then?”
“A partnership where roles are clearly defined,” Arnold remarked as he sliced through his steak. “To be honest, it’s dehumanizing when a wife makes more than her husband does. People take note of these things. “They converse.”
“What people?”
“Our people!”
I stared at Tim, waiting for him to speak up, defend me, and help. Everything. Nevertheless, he only sat there, rearranging the food on his plate like a kid avoiding veggies.
“Tim?”
At last, his face flushed as he looked up. “Abbie, they’re right. You might want to take a little vacation. Pay attention to… other things.
Other items? similar to what?
Michelle said, “Well,” leaning forward with phony excitement in her eyes, “you could redecorate the guest house.” Arrange charitable activities. Start a family, of course.
“I could also cure cancer or solve world hunger!” I took a shot back. “But that’s not the point, is it?”
Arnold angrily said, “Young lady, there’s no need for sarcasm.”
“Young lady?” I got to my feet so quickly that my chair scuffed the hardwood. You’re not my young lady. While your son was finger-painting with eight-year-olds, I began my job as a grown woman.
“Abbie,” suggested Tim. “Please sit down.”
Not at all. Please let me get this right. You think that because it makes your son appear terrible, I should give up everything I’ve worked for?”
Michelle thought, “It’s not about looking bad.” It’s about being appropriate. about acting in the best interests of the family.
Between us, the quiet was as long as a taut wire. Sprinklers hissed across the well-kept lawn outside, the only sound in the oppressive silence.
“Fine,” I responded at last. “I’ll give it some thought. But I have a requirement.
Arnold’s eyebrow went up. “You’re hardly in a position to make demands.”
“Ah? Do you want me to abandon my work? Create an irrevocable trust fund after that. For 35 years, my yearly income will be matched, adjusted for raises and inflation. I can then concentrate on becoming the ideal wife without having to worry about my financial future.
Midway to Michelle’s lips, her wine glass paused. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Now I make $170,000. That might be more than five million dollars in thirty-five years. Pay attention to what you say if you want me to leave that alone.
“That’s…” Red in the face, Arnold sputtered. “That’s absolutely ridiculous.”
Is it? You want me to give up my entire financial future so that you can be comfortable. I believe that to be a fair bargain.
Hissing, “You’re being transactional,” Michelle said. “Marriage isn’t a business deal.”
“Isn’t it?” I had a laugh. Literally, you’re attempting to buy my obedience. At least I’m telling the truth about the cost.
Tim was the last to speak. “Abbie, that’s… that’s a lot of money.”
“I own the money, Tim. I will be spending my time at home organizing flowers and throwing tea parties, therefore I won’t be making any money.”
“That’s not what we’re asking,” Michelle interrupted.
“Then what are you asking?”
“You must have faith in us. to put your faith in Tim. to have faith in our ability to look for you.”
You cared for Jennifer, Tim’s ex-girlfriend, right? “The person who sacrificed her nursing career to be the ideal fiancée until you deemed her unworthy?”
Arnold tightened his hold on the knife, which squeaked against the plate. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“Jennifer was… she lacked refinement.”
“She lacked money, you mean??”
“Abbie, please,” pleaded Tim. “This isn’t helping.”
“You are correct. Let me attempt an alternative strategy. With my hands folded on the table, I took a seat again. “We ought to get a prenuptial agreement. Tim’s trust fund is half mine if I sacrifice my career for him and we get divorced. appropriate recompense for what I gave up.”
Michelle’s face was devoid of color. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“That sum of money is inherited. It isn’t for outsiders to assert.
I won’t be an outsider, though. You’ll have me as your daughter-in-law. The spouse of your son. The grandmother of your grandchildren.
“You’ll be Tim’s wife.” Arnold’s eyebrow went up. “Not a beneficiary of our estate.”
“I recognize. I’ll check that I understand this correctly. It is your desire that I forfeit my financial stability, my work, and my independence. You want me to stake my whole fortune on a marriage devoid of a prenuptial agreement, safety net, and recompense. Because I make more money than your son, and that bothers you.”
“It’s not about offense,” objected Michelle. “It’s about what’s proper.”
“Not at all! Control is key.
With the click of my heels on the marble floor, I strolled around the table. “A grateful and reliant daughter-in-law is what you want. She has a lovely grin and never asks why she sacrificed everything for a man who won’t even stand up for her at his own dinner table.”
Arnold said, “Now see here,” as his chair scuffed back. “You’re being completely unreasonable.”
“Am I?” Since I am the only sane person in this room, that is why I am standing here.” My gaze shifted to Tim. “Your parents want me to forgo my entire future in order to maintain their good reputation. You’re sitting there, nodding in agreement as though that makes great sense.
“It’s not that simple, Abbie.”
“Tim, it really is that easy. You either think I’m a valuable partner or you don’t. Whether you value what I’ve created or not is up to you. You either want a wife or a woman you can keep.”
Michelle shot back, “That’s not fair,”
“Equal? Would you like to discuss fair? Fair would be standing by your son’s fiancée rather than sabotaging her. Fair would be embracing rather than hating my achievement. Instead of attempting to change me into someone else, it would be fair to accept me into your family.”
“We just want what’s best for Tim,” was Arnold’s response.
“No, your reputation is what you desire. Something is different.
Despite the internal turmoil, I steadied my hands and retrieved my purse from the sideboard. “I’ve been creating something I’m proud of for ten years. I’ve given up relationships, worked 60-hour weeks, and missed vacations. Code that truly works, issues that I genuinely resolve, and customers who genuinely appreciate my contributions are how I’ve earned every dollar.”
“And we admire that,” Michelle replied frantically as she glanced at Arnold. “We do, in fact. But compromise is necessary in marriage.
“Give in? You are not requesting a compromise. You’re requesting submission.
When Tim eventually got up, his napkin dropped to the ground. “Hold on, Abbie. Is it possible for us to discuss this in private?
I looked back at him and examined his features. It seemed like somewhere between the appetizer and the main dish, the man I had fell in love with vanished. “Tim, what are you talking about? Your stance has been rather apparent.
“I haven’t.”
“Just right! Being silent is a stance. Your failure to stand up for me is a stance. Furthermore, you have a position if you’re ready to let them control our destiny.
“They’re my parents.”
“I’m also meant to be your wife. What is more important?
The question hovered like smoke in the air. Like hawks circling prey, Michelle and Arnold watched their son intently. Tim’s mouth moved back and forth, but nothing came out.
“I’ll make this easy for everyone,” I declared. “I won’t be leaving my job. My career isn’t going anywhere. And in order to give your son a more manly appearance, I will not give up my financial freedom. My unemployment is not my concern; it is yours if your masculinity depends on it.”
“You’re being selfish,” yelled Arnold.
“Am I?” Am I being clever, or what? When I ask you to put it in writing, don’t act surprised if you want me to quit my job. If you’re unable to… okay. I will continue to work and earn. And you can never stop hoping for a daughter-in-law who tolerates this bullshit.
I reached for my pocketbook. It has nothing to do with love. This has to do with control. Furthermore, I cannot stand being in charge. I am not a remote-control toy, for that reason.”
Michelle’s dish clattered as her fork touched it. “If you walk out that door, don’t expect us to welcome you back.”
After saying, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I turned to face Tim. “Your move.”
He remained motionless, his hands quivering a little. He appeared to be a stranger to the man I had intended to wed, start a family, and possibly raise.
“Abbie,” he said softly. “Please don’t leave like this.”
“Then give me a reason to stay.”
We gazed at one another across the magnificent dining room and the gap that had formed between us during a single dinner. I awaited his selection of me and our jointly planned future.
He did not.
The sound of my heels echoed in the marble foyer as I made my way to the front door. I could hear the scrape of chairs, the clink of crystal, and hurried whispering behind me. But I was not followed by any footsteps.
The June air felt liberating outside.
Three days have gone by since I left that residence. It’s been three days since I gave Tim the most important decision of his life. He didn’t text or call. He hasn’t arrived at my flat with flowers, expressions of regret, or a vow to confront his parents.
Perhaps I ought to be devastated. Perhaps I should be questioning whether I was too strict, demanding, and refusing to compromise. The issue is, though, I’m not.
I am furious. Let down. And irritated. Since the man I loved ended up being such a coward. I am not broken, though. My value is not determined by my readiness to compromise for the comfort of others; I am aware of my own worth.
They can find themselves a nice goat if Tim and his parents are looking for a lady who will sacrifice all for their approval. They look excellent in family photos, are reportedly highly obedient, and don’t make awkward sums of money.
How about me? I have clients to impress, code to write, and a future to create. Furthermore, I’m working on my own terms.
