Instead, I sat down.
Rule one: I would quit working after marriage.
Rule two: Adrian’s mother would have a key to our house.
Rule three: every major purchase required “family approval.”
Rule four: holidays belonged to the Vale family.
Rule five: any inheritance, investments, or property I owned should be “consolidated” with Adrian’s finances.
That last one immediately caught my attention.
“What exactly do you think I own?” I asked.
Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “Enough to become confused about your place.”
A cousin snickered.
Another aunt said, “Adrian is rich. Women become arrogant when they marry money.”
I looked at my husband.
He remained silent.
That silence wounded me more than their insults. Three nights earlier, he had promised that marriage meant partnership, not submission. Now he stood there while his family wrote down rules for my obedience as though they were drafting a contract.
Then Veronica stood, walked over to the mantel, and lifted our framed wedding portrait.
