When my parents offered to help us buy an apartment, I was happy. It seemed like the perfect start to our family life.
They set a reasonable condition: my future husband’s parents should contribute their share. They had the means, as they had recently sold an inherited property.
But his father unexpectedly refused:
— We have other children, we can’t help everyone.
My parents quickly resolved the matter themselves: they bought the apartment in their name, promising to later transfer it to me as a gift. Everything seemed to be falling into place.
But from that moment, everything started to go wrong. When the conversation turned to renovation, my fiancé said:
— It’s not my apartment, why should I invest in it?
My parents took on the renovation themselves. My dad and brothers worked every evening, cutting, drilling, plastering, while my mom picked out tiles and paint.
When the renovation was completed, I decided to act from a place of reason. Furnishing the apartment was going to be our 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 earn well, — I said calmly. — This will be your contribution to our future home.
But his response hit me like a blow to the heart:
— Why should I furnish your apartment? Should I just give you my entire salary?
It was as if I didn’t recognize him. Where was the caring, decent man I had spent three happy years with?
My parents were shocked. They didn’t understand why my fiancé was so sensitive about everything related to the apartment. But I still believed in him.
Over time, arguments became part of our daily life.
His demands grew louder: to have the apartment registered in both our names, to have him registered there. Every time, I tried to explain that the apartment was a gift from my parents, and they had the right to do with it as they pleased.
But that didn’t calm him down. At one point, I said:
— If you feel that way, maybe we shouldn’t get married?
His response felt like a stab in the back:
— I don’t want to either.
We stopped talking for a week. He apologized first:
— I’m sorry, it was all emotions. I was wrong.
I thought everything could be fixed. We started seeing each other again, but the old problems quickly resurfaced. My fiancé once again started talking about his resentment:
— You think I’m poor and unworthy because you don’t want to share the apartment.
I tried to remain calm and suggested we talk things through peacefully. But inside, I felt that this wasn’t love anymore—it was a battle for territory.
Now he keeps texting, reminding me about the approaching wedding, but I can’t feel any joy. His words: “Why should I be part of this family if nothing belongs to me?” still echo in my mind.
Should I marry such a person? Or has he just shown me who he really is?
