Jane is excited to begin her life as a bride, having just returned from their honeymoon. But a covertly recorded chat exposes her husband’s shallowness. When given the option, would Jane choose to conform to his ideal or turn away?
Being Wayne’s girlfriend was one thing, but being his wife was quite another.
Until a year ago, I thought Wayne was the one for me. We got together soon after he concluded a bad relationship.
Are you certain you’re prepared for this? I inquired.
“Yes, Jane,” he gave me his word. “History belongs to Nicole. I’m excited to find contentment and settle down.
At first, I was afraid of becoming a rebound, which happens frequently. Still, I reasoned, what had I got to lose?
After dating for almost two years, Wayne made the proposal.
“Jane, let’s spend eternity together,” he proposed.
I agreed, of course. Wayne persuaded me during our time together that I wasn’t merely a rebound.
Everything appeared ideal after a blissful honeymoon, filled with happiness and promises that would last a lifetime, until one ordinary day broke the illusion.
As I was getting ready to take our dog, Bolt, for a walk, I heard Wayne ask me to answer a video call for his pals.
We said our goodbyes and I headed to get a jacket because it seemed like it could rain.
Wayne was still on the phone, laughing, and I was able to get my coat without drawing attention to myself.
I had no idea that day would ruin our relationship.
“Dude, are you still obsessed with the way Jane looks?” One friend made a joke.
My heart pounded.
How come? I pondered.
I was hoping Wayne would come to my defense.
“She isn’t annoying and cooks better than Nicole.” Bolt is being removed by her, something Nicole would have insisted I do. Wayne said, “Yet, it does feel like a downgrade.”
Another person questioned, “What will you do?”
“If Jane lost a little weight, I might think twice.”
Their glee broke the silence.
I was taken aback.
Wayne had always assured me of his devotion, particularly after Nicole.
And yet there he was in the living room, drinking a beer and making fun of me.
I took Bolt with me, requiring Wayne’s distance.
A personal upheaval followed. Given my strong nature, I thought marriage would be difficult, but this early problems were unanticipated.
Wayne started comparing me to his ex, who had texted him to get out of their relationship, only three weeks into our union.
I could have called it quits right there. However, that felt overly straightforward. I wanted more.
I couldn’t sleep; my mind was racing.
My mother asked me the next day, after hearing my story, “What should you do?”
“I am uncertain,” I answered. “I believe I should harm him.”
Wayne was talking, and ever since then, I couldn’t look in the mirror.
I didn’t look right. I felt ugly, and I wanted to hide.
My mom brought pie and tea.
“Attack him right now.” She questioned.
“I haven’t given it much thought,” I said.
How about getting a divorce and moving on? This is a waste of time, don’t you think? She asked.
Even though I felt like wasting time, I had to get even.
She said, “What about the prenup?”
“What?” I answered.
“You two signed a prenuptial agreement, right? How would it be if you were divorced right away?
At home, I located the contract; it was quite explicit. All I had to do was wait a year to get half of Wayne’s possessions.
I was able to hold out.
I changed in the next months—not for him, but to become worthy of myself again.
Wayne thought I was doing all of this for him even though I was maintaining my look, eating better, and joining a gym.
He continued to purchase me shoes and clothes, thinking that I would model them, but I never did.
By our first anniversary, Wayne thought I embodied the ideal of society.
I organized a big dinner party with friends to prepare them for my big revelation.
Wayne was equally astounded and impressed when I showed up wearing a new outfit.
I declared, “I’m filing for divorce because I refuse to feel inferior again, to an ex or anyone else,” amid supper and giggles.
The room gave a gasp, and Wayne’s face turned pale.
“After hearing you disparage me, I changed for the better. I said, “No one should change for flimsy affection.”
Wayne apologized, but it was ignored.
“Why not wait a year?” said Ross, one of his friends.
“Remember that prenuptial agreement you insisted on? I clarified that if the “downgraded party” is the cause of the compensation, it pays out during the first five years.
As the seriousness of what I had spoken set in, the room became quiet.
I remained silent and said, “I will take enough to start anew. I don’t want your money.”
I started eating again, intending to head off shortly after supper.
I was prepared for my next chapter, having previously found an apartment.
“Exactly like that?” Days later, while I was packing, Wayne inquired.
Yes, just like that, I said. “You started this. Before our marriage could even begin, you destroyed it. I’m OK now.
He questioned, “Do you really think I’m that superficial?”
I hesitated, searching for real regret, but there was none.
And it was really too late, if any existed at all.
How would you have responded in the situation?