“They get more attention with negativity,” my fiancé explained gently in an effort to console me.
I could not stop weeping. This should’ve been one of the most joyous moments of my life; instead, my fiancé, Chase, had to hold back my body from shaking between my cries. I could tell that he, too, was extremely upset. But instead, he was tense, his jaw tight, and his eyes lacking expression. He looked numb.
Chase and I got engaged yesterday. I could not have been more surprised and ecstatic. I thought we were going to wait until he was out of Physical Therapy school. But he explained that he had been secretly saving and wanted to take the next step. I was overjoyed because I had been out of college and working in marketing for a good company for the last few years. We were financially stable, living off of my job, and so we bought our first apartment together, and I was helping put him through school. I was ready, but we had agreed to wait. So when he got down on one knee, I couldn’t have been more stunned, but I was so glad that he popped the question sooner than I had expected. It was such a wonderful shock.
Everything about it was perfect: the location, the ring, the photos we got. Chase had just told me we were doing a regular photoshoot. I had been begging him to do one, so I honestly didn’t find it suspicious. I was in my favorite muted green satin dress, with my long hair curled. He was in his nice khaki dress pants and the black dress shirt that I had always told him was my favorite. He was so nervous, but I don’t know why. I would’ve married him the day we met if I could’ve. It was just everything I ever wanted. It all just felt so meant to be and perfect in its time.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I posted about our engagement on Instagram that everything went up in flames. In a simple attempt to update our friends and family about this huge milestone, I massively ruffled the feathers of Chase’s family, specifically his mom Brenda and dad Chuck. Which honestly did not come as a surprise, because this was a recurring issue. They had never been fond of me. I never understood why. I was normal, treated them with respect, and would always go out of my way to be nice to them in hopes that someday they could also be nice to me. Ever since Chase and I had first met in our senior year of high school, I had been trying to loosen their cold shoulders.
But every little thing I did would make them upset. Years ago, I was at their house for a family dinner. They knew I was going to be there. Chase had told them, and they said it was fine. They made a grand and extravagant meal: fancy steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus. There were other extra people there too, aunts, uncles, their work friends, Chase’s brother’s friends, loads of people. Everything was amazing. I made sure to only take a small piece of steak because it looked expensive, and I didn’t want to be impolite. Later that evening, once I was back at my own house, I got a text from Brenda asking for $30 in return for my plate. I told Chase; he was furious and said that was ridiculous, because she’d never do that to anyone else. I didn’t feel good that night, and I don’t like potatoes, so I barely ate maybe $5 worth of food.
It was little obscure things like that I always had to watch out for; it was always something random that set them off. How could I know that eating the dinner that they provided to me could rub them in such a wrong way?
When we first started dating, they’d wait until I left their home and complain to Chase about me once he was alone. It almost felt like a backhanded attempt to make us grow apart. Thankfully, he never fed into their delusions. But after years of staying together, they began to berate me directly. It was terrible. It got to the point where Chase felt the only way we could stay together was if we got our own place so we wouldn’t have to be around them when we wanted to see each other. It honestly broke my heart, because despite their behavior, of course he still loved his parents. I just wish that they could accept our relationship.
For some reason, I thought that our engagement announcement would somehow suppress their hate for me. Maybe they would finally get the hint that we were serious and I wasn’t going anywhere. But instead, it did the opposite. I opened Pandora’s box, and now I was reaping the consequences.
The morning that I posted about our engagement, Chase and I were sitting next to each other on the couch in our apartment. I realized comments were flooding in from his family. I got notification after notification. I became hesitant to open their comments, knowing there were too many for them to be anything positive.
Finally, I did.
“I bet she’s pregnant,” Brenda said.
Classic.
“She must’ve forced him to do it,” Chase’s Aunt replied, and under it Chuck responded, “They’ll be divorced within a year.”
That was when I began to cry.
Thankfully, their comments were interlaced with normal and supportive comments from my family, like “our favorite couple finally popped the question!” from my Dad.
Or my sweet sister saying, “I can’t believe this is real!!!”
My mom said, “Nothing but love for these two, wishing them the best!”
I didn’t expect Chase’s family to love me all of a sudden, but I was hoping that they could at least not say anything negative for once. I deleted the mean replies as fast as possible; I didn’t want my family to see them and have it create more drama than there already was.
I could barely see my phone screen through my blurry vision.
With heavy disappointment in his voice, Chase said, “I can’t believe they did this.”
“I can,” I replied, defeated.
“I will not let them ruin this for us,” he said seriously.
“I won’t either.”
“They’re just mad I haven’t let them come between us after all these years,” he said. I think I saw his eyes begin to water slightly before he blinked the tears away and stood up angrily. I stood up too and hugged him.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him. He had told me for years that he often carried the guilt of their nasty behavior towards me. I never once blamed him, so it made me so sad that he felt that way.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, I giggled, “How about I get a pink wedding dress so if Brenda shows up in white, she won’t get the last laugh.”
He rolled his eyes a little. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”
I pulled back so I could look him in the eyes. “It’s okay, pink is my favorite color.”
“I love you,” he said.
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I love you more.”