When my parents offered to help us buy an apartment, I was thrilled. It seemed like the perfect way to begin our life together.
They proposed a fair condition: my fiancé’s parents should contribute their share. They had the funds, having recently sold an inherited property.
However, his father unexpectedly declined:
— We have other children, we can’t help everyone.
My parents quickly took matters into their own hands: they bought the apartment in their name, promising to later transfer it to me as a gift. Everything seemed to be going well.
But after that, things started to fall apart. When we discussed renovations, my fiancé said:
— It’s not my apartment, why should I put money into it?
My parents took on the renovation themselves. My dad and brothers worked every evening, cutting, drilling, and plastering, while my mom selected tiles and paint.
Once the renovation was done, I decided to approach things logically. Furnishing the apartment would be a shared responsibility. My parents promised to buy the kitchen, and my brothers were gifting bedroom furniture. All that was left for my fiancé was to furnish the living room and hallway.
— You make a good income, — I said calmly. — This will be your contribution to our future home.
But his reply stunned me:
— Why should I furnish your apartment? Should I just give you all my salary?
It was like I didn’t recognize him anymore. Where was the kind, decent man I had spent three wonderful years with?
My parents were shocked. They couldn’t understand why my fiancé was so upset about everything related to the apartment. But I still had faith in him.
As time passed, arguments became more frequent.
His demands became louder: he wanted the apartment registered in both our names and wanted to be officially listed there. Each time, I tried to explain that the apartment was a gift from my parents and that they had every right to do what they wanted with it.
But that didn’t calm him. At one point, I said:
— If you feel this way, maybe we shouldn’t get married.
His response felt like a stab in the heart:
— I don’t want to either.
We stopped talking for a week. He apologized first:
— I’m sorry, it was just emotions. I was wrong.
I thought things could be fixed. We started seeing each other again, but the same issues quickly resurfaced. My fiancé once more expressed his hurt:
— You think I’m poor and unworthy because you won’t share the apartment.
I tried to stay calm and suggested we have a peaceful discussion. But deep down, I felt like this wasn’t love anymore—it was a struggle for control.
Now he keeps texting, reminding me about the upcoming wedding, but I don’t feel any excitement. His words, “Why should I be part of this family if nothing belongs to me?” still echo in my mind.
Should I marry him? Or has he revealed his true nature?
