At our housewarming party, everything changed. Alex’s mother, Barbara, stood to make a toast—and instead suggested that Alex’s sister Katie should move into our apartment. Alex backed her, casually proposing that we stay with my parents “until they help us buy another place.” He claimed I hadn’t really decorated anything anyway.
My mother quietly shut it down. I handed Alex an envelope: the deed and prenuptial agreement naming the apartment as mine alone. Barbara’s confidence shattered; Alex accused me of betrayal.
A week later he begged for another chance, but I walked away.
Love doesn’t erase disrespect—or surrender the home I fought to protect.
