walked in early from my trip to surprise my husband and heard him on the phone saying, “marriage feels like a trap, bro. if it weren’t for her family’s money, I’d be long gone.” we had just celebrated our anniversary. I said nothing, left quietly, and returned at the original time, acting as if nothing happened.
five days later, he called me 27 times in an hour. he knew I’d figured it out. My name is Natalie, and up until two weeks ago, I believed I was in a happy marriage.
I believed my husband, Connor, loved me. We had just celebrated our three-year anniversary. To mark the occasion, we held a small vow renewal ceremony with only our closest friends and family.
Connor cried while reading his vows to me. He genuinely wept, tears streaming down his face, and said I was the “best thing that ever happened to him.” Everyone was moved. So was I.
He always seemed so sincere, so different from the men I typically met through my family’s affluent social circles. My family has money—not obscenely wealthy, but comfortable enough that I’ve never had to worry about bills. Connor comes from a middle-class background, and I had always been proud that our love transcended any class barriers, that it was pure and untainted by money.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
