**”You Decided for Me?!” – The Story of a Wedding That Wasn’t**
Emily sat at a corner table in a cosy restaurant in central London, waiting for her fiancé, James. He seemed tense, checking his phone every few minutes with a restless glance.
“James, you’re acting odd today. What’s going on?” she asked, careful not to let her concern show.
“Just wait a bit, I’ll explain. We’re only waiting for my parents…” he dismissed her.
“Your parents?”
“Yes. And a couple of others joining them. We’re not just here for dinner—there’s something we need to discuss.”
Emily stiffened. She’d known James for six months and could recognise his tone when he had “serious talks.” They never ended well.
Ten minutes later, James’s parents—Edward and Victoria—arrived, followed by two strangers.
“Meet William and Sophie,” James said with a broad smile. “They’re interested in renting your flat. Long-term.”
“My… flat?” Emily nearly dropped her fork.
“Of course. They’re serious—willing to pay £1,500 a month. After the wedding, we’ll move in with my parents. Their house in Surrey has plenty of space. Why leave your flat empty? It’ll earn us extra income!”
Emily’s fingers went cold. Oblivious, James pulled papers from a folder.
“Look, I’ve already sorted it with the bank. We’ll transfer your mortgage into both our names—lower interest rate, easier payments.”
“You… decided all this?” Her voice trembled. “Without even asking me?”
“Oh, don’t be childish!” Victoria cut in. “James is thinking of your future. You’re practically family now!”
William and Sophie exchanged glances.
“Sorry, but is the flat in your name?” Sophie asked James.
“Not yet, but—”
“Then we’re not comfortable with this arrangement,” William said flatly. “We didn’t realise the owner wasn’t even aware. Good evening.”
They stood and left, leaving an awkward silence behind.
“Well done,” Victoria huffed. “You’ve scared off decent tenants with your dramatics, Emily!”
“Dramatics?” Emily rose slowly. “This isn’t dramatics. It’s my right to decide what happens to my home.”
“Are you serious?!” James paled. “We had this all planned!”
“You had it planned. For both of us. Without me. And I won’t build a future with someone who thinks that’s acceptable.”
“Emily, calm down—”
“No. The wedding’s off.”
She walked out without looking back and never replied to another message.
That night, curled on her windowsill with a steaming cup of tea, she thought just one thing:
*”Better alone—but with self-respect—than with someone who doesn’t understand it.”*
