My aunt, who is a judge, insisted that I sign a prenuptial agreement before getting married. At the time, I didn’t understand why. But I listened to her anyway.

I was confused and did not know what to say.

Then she leaned closer and said clearly, “Give me two hundred thousand dollars so I can buy my son a car.”

I felt frozen and said, “Sorry, what?”

She repeated it calmly, as if it was something normal.

I stayed still, holding my cup, looking at her as if I was seeing her for the first time.

I told her I would not give her any money, and she clicked her tongue like I was the one being unreasonable.

“Do not be dramatic, Amanda, you are going to marry him, what you have will be his too,” she said.

I answered without thinking, “Not according to the agreement we signed.”

That changed her face immediately, and she said quietly, “So it is true, my son told me your aunt filled your head with strange ideas.”

That sentence hit me hard, because it meant Brandon had already talked to her about it.

I stood up, paid for my coffee, and left, and she said behind me, “Let us see how long a marriage without generosity lasts.”

That night I waited for Brandon at my apartment because I wanted to hear everything from him directly.

When he arrived, he tried to kiss me, but I stepped back and told him everything his mother said.

He did not look surprised, and that hurt more than anything else.

“That is just how my mom is, she talks without thinking sometimes,” he said.

I looked at him and said, “She asked me for two hundred thousand dollars.”

“Well, asking is not forcing,” he replied.

I asked him, “Did you know about it?”

He paused for a moment and then said, “I knew she wanted to talk to you about the car.”

I asked him if he thought that was normal, and he looked annoyed.

“Amanda, you are overreacting, my car is old and I need a new one, and you are doing better financially, I was just trying to help,” he said.

That word made me angry.

“Help is something you ask for honestly and plan to return, this was a demand,” I told him.

He stood up and said, “You always get defensive when it comes to money.”

I replied, “Because I worked years to earn it.”

“And I have been with you for years,” he said.

We both went quiet, and I realized how wrong that sounded.

I started remembering small things I had ignored before, like when he suggested renting out my apartment and moving somewhere he chose, or when he wanted one person to control all shared money after marriage, or when his mother talked about my money as if it belonged to their family.