Rory and I have been together for four years and engaged for six months. Recently, we had dinner with his friends — people I had spent so much time trying to get along with. I wanted to belong, to feel like I was part of his world.
The evening started off fine. One of them was sharing stories about their recent trip to Europe, highlighting “authentic experiences” and local food. As they described a hidden family-owned café in Italy, they turned to me with a friendly smile, “What about you? Do you like trying new cuisines when you travel?” Out of the blue, Rory smirked and cut in.
“Oh, don’t ask her about that. She thinks reading a few travel blogs makes her an expert on culture. Next thing you know, she’ll be telling us about the time she ‘discovered’ pizza.” Laughter erupted around the table. My heart dropped.
I stared at him, searching his face for any trace of remorse, any sign that he had spoken without considering the impact. But there was nothing — just that nonchalant, amused look, as if his words were harmless. I fought back the lump in my throat, managing a tight, forced smile as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I wasn’t the type to confront issues head-on, and I had always let the small things slide. But this? This wasn’t just a joke. And it didn’t end there.
As the evening went on, Rory kept making little remarks at my expense. He mocked me for double-checking things, called me “too sensitive” about words, and even teased me for taking my time to make decisions. Each time, his friends chuckled. Each time, my stomach churned. I sat there, my fingers gripping the edge of the table, feeling smaller with every passing moment. Then, something inside me shifted.
Why was I sitting here, pretending like this was okay? Why was I letting him make me the punchline? I took a deep breath and straightened my posture. “You know, Rory,” I said, keeping my voice calm but firm, “You’re right. I do take my time making decisions. Because I want to be sure they’re the right ones.” I let my words hang in the air for a second before continuing. “And tonight, I’m making one.”
I slowly removed my engagement ring, setting it on the table between us. “I don’t want to marry someone who thinks it’s funny to humiliate me in front of others.” Silence. Rory’s face paled. His friends looked awkwardly between us, realizing that this wasn’t just another joke. He opened his mouth, but I didn’t wait for his response. I stood up, grabbed my purse, and walked away with my head held high.
Now, sitting alone in my apartment, I keep staring at my finger, wondering if I made the right choice. Did I overreact? Was I being too sensitive? Or did I finally stand up for myself in a way I should have a long time ago?
Source: nowiveseeneverything.club