Then Liam called with news that made me pause.
“The power’s out,” he said. “We’re sitting here in the dark and cold. Mom’s Christmas dinner is ruined, and Dad can’t watch his favorite Christmas movie.”
“Sounds like karma to me,” I replied calmly.
“How dare you say that?” he exploded.
“After everything we did to make you feel welcome—”
That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t family.
This was mean-spirited bullying dressed up as tradition.
“Liam,” I interrupted, twisting the engagement ring on my finger, “I think we need to talk about the engagement.”
“What do you mean?” His voice turned serious for the first time that night.
“I’m ending it,” I said firmly. “I can’t marry into a family that thinks it’s funny to humiliate people and calls it a tradition.”
“You’re breaking up with me? Over a Christmas joke?” His voice cracked.
“We can fix this. We’ll give you your real presents tomorrow—”
“There aren’t any real presents, are there, Liam?”
His silence told me everything I needed to know.
“That’s what I thought,” I said softly. “I’ll mail your ring back tomorrow.”
I ended the call and felt strangely peaceful that night.
The next morning, he dropped off all the expensive presents that I’d bought for his family at my place I returned them and donated the money to the local women’s shelter.
I felt heartbroken, but I was relieved knowing I’d never be a part of a family with such humiliating traditions.
