When I met Ryan, I thought I had found someone truly special. He was kind, grounded, and never made me feel less than him.
His family, though? They weren’t wealthy—middle class—but they thought they were better than me.
I had never flaunted my own financial situation, and they assumed I was just some average girl looking for a more “comfortable life.”
So when Ryan proposed, I was ecstatic. Until his parents pulled me aside.
Victoria’s voice dropped to a condescending whisper. “We know girls like you, honey. We’ve seen it before. You’re lucky to be marrying into our family.”
Richard smirked. “Of course, if your love is real, you won’t mind. After all, Ryan has much more to lose than you do.”
My stomach twisted. Their arrogance, their assumption that I was some gold digger, made my blood boil.
I smiled. “Okay. But under one condition.”
They exchanged glances. Victoria’s lips curled in satisfaction.
The next morning, I arrived at their house. But I wasn’t alone. Victoria’s confident smirk faltered seeing what I brought. “What the HELL… HOW DARE YOU..?!”
Standing behind me was my lawyer, a sharp-dressed woman named Clara, holding a briefcase. Clara had been my family’s attorney for years, and she was as no-nonsense as they came. Victoria and Richard stared at her, their smug expressions melting into confusion.
“What’s this?” Richard demanded, his voice rising.
“This,” I said calmly, “is Clara. She’s here to review the prenup you’ve drafted. If I’m going to sign anything, I want to make sure it’s fair and legally sound.”
Victoria’s face turned red. “Fair? You think you’re in a position to negotiate?”
Clara stepped forward, her tone professional but firm. “Actually, she is. Prenuptial agreements are legally binding contracts, and both parties are entitled to independent legal counsel. If you’d like to proceed, I’ll need to review the terms.”
Ryan, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “Mom, Dad, this is getting out of hand. Why are we even doing this? I don’t care about a prenup.”
Victoria shot him a glare. “Ryan, this is for your protection. You don’t understand how these things work.”
I reached for Ryan’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay. Let’s just get this over with.”
Clara and I sat down at the dining table, and Richard reluctantly handed over the document. As Clara read through it, her eyebrows shot up. “This is… quite one-sided,” she said, glancing at me. “It essentially states that in the event of a divorce, you would walk away with nothing—no assets, no spousal support, nothing. Even if Ryan were to inherit significant wealth during the marriage, you’d have no claim to it.”
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. I had expected as much.