Eight Hundred Dollars To Be Your Wife No Thanks, I'm Done

At our engagement party, my fiancé refused to move forward unless I signed a prenuptial agreement first. To him and his circle, I was nothing more than a calculated gold digger. When I fell in love with Julian Vance, a ruthless underworld boss, I spent five years bending over backward just to meet his family's impossible standards. It wasn't until I got pregnant that his parents finally approved of me and agreed to let us marry. Yet Chloe, Julian's so-called "best friend," still treated me with utter contempt. Every time she saw me, her tongue dripped with venom. "I've seen girls like you a million times," she'd sneer. "Playing the innocent, devoted, long-suffering saint---all just to sink your claws into the Vance fortune." She even went out of her way to humiliate me in front of everyone at the party. Seeing me hesitate over the papers, she smirked triumphantly. "Look at her. Any second now, she's going to demand a luxury penthouse and a sports car." I turned to Julian, desperately hoping he would defend me. Instead, he just nodded slowly. "Good thing you're here, Chloe. Otherwise, I might've actually fallen for it." He looked at me coldly. "Let's make this clear right now. After we're married, you get eight hundred dollars a month for living expenses. Not a penny more. If you don't want to sign, we don't get married." "Then let's not," I replied calmly. Without another word, I turned and walked away. I was never short on money. If he couldn't give me the love and trust I deserved, then I didn't want him either. Stepping outside, I dialed the recruiter from a premier investment firm. "That Wall Street offer? I'll take it." Seeing me walk out, Julian instinctively reached out to grab my arm. Chloe immediately stepped between us. "Don't stop her, Julian! This is classic reverse psychology. She's just waiting for you to chase after her, pamper her, and throw more money at her feet." Julian looked at me, his eyes clouded with deep disappointment. "Lauren, when did you become so materialistic? You really disgust me right now." "No, Julian. I'm the one who's disappointed," I said with a bitter scoff. "You never trusted me." I turned on my heel and left. As soon as I was out of the venue, I called the hospital to schedule an urgent checkup. Hanging up, I gently rested a hand on my stomach, a hollow numbness settling over my chest. I was four months pregnant. At first, I had anticipated this baby's arrival with all the joy in the world. Now, I was terrified I might lose it. My phone buzzed with a new notification. It was an email from the Vance family's attorney containing an addendum to the prenup. It clearly stated that my monthly allowance after marriage would be capped at eight hundred dollars. Eight hundred dollars. That wouldn't even cover my basic groceries in this city. I remembered the day Julian found out I was pregnant. He had been ecstatic, holding me close and whispering promises. "Lauren, I'll give you and our baby the best life imaginable. Just stay home and let me take care of you." It was because of that promise that I willingly quit my job as a senior equity analyst, walking away from a six-figure monthly salary. Taking a deep breath, I drove to the hospital for a preliminary checkup. My health wasn't great. I had an underlying blood clotting disorder, meaning I had to take medication to stabilize my levels before any emergency surgery could be safely performed. A high-risk monitoring procedure was scheduled for a week later---the exact same day as our wedding. The moment I stepped out of the hospital, Julian called. He didn't even greet me, launching straight into a furious interrogation. "What were you doing at the hospital? Do you really have to throw such an embarrassing tantrum?" I quickly realized what had happened. Julian's cousin, Lucas, worked at that hospital. He must have spotted me and immediately reported back to Julian. Before I could answer, Chloe's voice drifted through the receiver. "She's put on a show, Julian! If she really wanted to walk away, she would've done it weeks ago, not waited until the second trimester. She just wants you to beg and hand over your black card. Gold diggers always stick to the same playbook." Julian's tone turned icy. "Lauren, are you really that desperate for cash?" Listening to them take turns degrading me, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. "Think whatever you want." I hung up. When I returned to Julian's penthouse, both he and Chloe were waiting in the living room. Before I could even kick off my shoes, Chloe lunged forward and snatched my purse right out of my hands, rifling through it. She pulled out my medication, an arrogant "I told you so" plastered across her face. "Weren't you supposedly in the hospital for surgery? Why did the doctor only prescribe blood-stabilizing medication?" She waved the bottle in front of Julian like a trophy. "What did I say? How could she bear to get rid of your baby? It's all a game. She's pretending to walk away so you'll crawl back and apologize." Julian glanced at the pill bottle, then shifted his gaze toward me. "Lauren, what game are you playing now?" I snatched the medication back and slid it into my bag."I'm not going through with this wedding," I said evenly. Chloe burst out laughing. "Hear that? She's using the unborn kid to blackmail you!" She sneered. "Attorney Jenkins sent over the addendum, and she hasn't signed it yet, right? Once she found out her allowance was only eight hundred bucks, she panicked. Her true colors are showing!" Julian stared at me, his gaze full of sharp suspicion. "Is this really all over that agreement?" I looked up to meet his eyes. "Yes. And no." Chloe clapped her hands dramatically. "She admitted it! She is after your fortune! I called it from day one!" Julian clenched his jaw, disgust dripping from his voice. "Lauren, I can't believe you're this kind of person." I laughed. It was a hollow, incredulous laugh. "In the five years we've been together, what have I ever spent of yours?" I asked, staring right at him. "Every time you gave me a gift, I bought you one of equal value. Every time you took me out to dinner, I picked up the check the next time. Tell me, Julian---where exactly did you lose out?" Julian froze. He couldn't name a single thing. Chloe, however, rolled her eyes. "That's called the long con, sweetie. You play the high-and-mighty independent career woman who doesn't care about cash. You wait until he lets his guard down completely, and the moment you tie the knot, the trap snaps shut. In my line of work, we see this script all the time. It takes patience to fake it for five years, I'll give you that." Julian's chronic paranoia flared up again. He eyed me with renewed doubt. I let out a quiet sigh. I should have accepted his nature a long time ago. Five years of devotion couldn't warm a heart wired for distrust. I slid the engagement ring off my left ring finger. "Since you don't believe me, let's just end it." I placed the diamond ring flat into his palm. Julian's expression shifted drastically. "Lauren, what are you doing? We're getting married next week." I shook my head gently. "Call off the wedding." Panicking, Julian tried to grab my hand, but Chloe pulled him back. "What did I say? Her next move is threatening to call off the wedding so you'll buy her a luxury house! Her parents still live in that cramped, run-down old suburban house, don't they? They've been dying to upgrade. You cut her allowance, and now she's throwing a fit." Realization seemed to dawn on Julian. A flicker of contempt surfaced in his eyes. "If you wanted a house for your parents, you could have just asked. You didn't need to put on this whole theatrical performance." I had indeed planned on buying my parents a new place. They were getting older, and I wanted them closer so we could look after one another. But I had never once asked Julian for money. Because I could afford it myself. "I don't want a house," I murmured. "I just want to cancel the wedding." Chloe scoffed loudly. "First she fakes a medical emergency, then she takes off the ring and calls off the wedding. What's next? Packing her bags and threatening to run away? Girl, daytime soap operas ran out of these cheap tropes years ago." Just then, my phone chimed. A notification popped up on the screen from the recruiter: Ms. Taylor, the official offer letter from the Wall Street firm has been sent to your email. Please review... Chloe covered her mouth, gasping in exaggerated mockery. "Look! Right on cue! She even hired people to text her fake job offers! Wall Street? Wow, you really love inflating your own resume, don't you?" Julian pressed his lips into a tight line, looking thoroughly exhausted by me. "Lauren, is this really necessary?" I smiled bitterly. "You think I'm acting?" Julian gave me a patronizing look, as if dealing with an unreasonable child. "Everything was fine until that eight-hundred-dollar clause. Then out of nowhere, you threaten to call off the wedding. What else am I supposed to think?"I stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then let out a quiet, resigned laugh. "Fine. Believe whatever you want." I didn't care to explain anymore. Walking past him into the bedroom, I pulled my suitcase from the closet. Chloe trailed right behind me like a shadow. "Look at that! She's packing! Next stop: the airport, waiting for you to stage some dramatic chase scene to beg her to stay!" Standing outside the bedroom door, Julian finally lost his temper. "Lauren, enough is enough!" he barked. "I'm not going to indulge your pathetic little drama. You might not care about your dignity, but the Vance family has a reputation to uphold." No dignity. That was his verdict on me. I glanced back at him, but his eyes were stone-cold, set in the smug conviction that he had finally seen through my facade. A biting chill settled deep into my bones. Five years of love and devotion shattered into worthless dust. I opened the dresser drawer and continued packing my things. Suddenly, a bottle of Lexapro slipped from my hand, rolling across the hardwood floor until it bumped against Julian's shoe. He bent down and picked it up. His pupils contracted sharply. "You're... you're taking antidepressants?" Chloe clutched her stomach and laughed out loud. "From tragic runaway bride to depressed victim? Wow, you really went all out on the martyr script! Julian, don't let her guilt-trip you. If she'd really been on meds, do you think you wouldn't have known?" Of course he didn't know. Being a top equity analyst came with immense pressure on its own. On top of that, Julian's parents had spent the last five years putting my integrity through sick, twisted "loyalty tests." They once hired someone to pose as a high-rolling client trying to use me for money laundering. When I reported it, they claimed it was a test of my moral character. They paid a matchmaking agency to introduce wealthy bachelors to me. When I turned them down, they claimed it was to test my loyalty to Julian. Suppliers approached me to broker backchannel deals with the Vance Group. I refused, only to find out his father had orchestrated the entire thing to see if I would exploit their connections. To vet a "worthy" daughter-in-law, they had thrown every manipulative trick in the book at me. I had once broken down and told Julian, "Your parents are crossing the line. It's driving me insane." Julian had merely replied with a detached shrug: "A clear conscience fears no accusation. Unless you actually have something to hide." Eventually, the chronic stress broke me. I started seeing a therapist and taking medication in secret. Because I knew that if his paranoid mind ever found out, he would only sneer: Are you feeling guilty about something? Now that he had seen it, there was no longer any need to hide. I walked over, plucked the bottle from his hand, and tossed it into my suitcase. "Lauren, I asked you a question," Julian demanded, his voice growing frantic. My hands never stopped packing. "Yes. I've been on them for three years." His entire body stiffened. Three years. And he hadn't noticed a single thing. For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind---maybe he didn't know me as well as he thought. Chloe immediately grabbed his arm. "Julian, don't fall into her trap! She's manufacturing guilt! Three whole years and nobody noticed, and suddenly right before the wedding, the pills magically appear? How convenient!" Julian's expression instantly hardened back into icy detachment. "Lauren, you've really let me down. It seems I need to reevaluate our entire relationship." I zipped my bag and shook my head. "No need to reevaluate." "We're done." Julian narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased by my lack of begging. Suddenly, his phone rang. "Julian, did Lauren go to Central Hospital today to book an emergency procedure?" It was his mother's sharp voice over the speaker. Julian clenched his jaw. "Yes." The other end went silent for two beats. "Both of you, come to the estate tomorrow." Before Julian could reply, the line clicked dead.In the Vance family, his parents' words were absolute law. Neither Julian nor I had ever been allowed to defy them. Chloe was already whispering poison into Julian's ear. "Tomorrow at the estate, she's definitely going to put on a tearful performance in front of your parents, blow this out of proportion, and force them to sweeten the deal." Julian said nothing, but he stepped forward and rested a heavy hand on my suitcase handle. "Stop this nonsense. We're going to the estate tomorrow." He paused, his voice lowering into a warning. "Watch what you say in front of my mother." I pulled the suitcase away from his grip and walked toward the front door. "I'll get there on my own." I paused at the threshold. "Don't worry. I'm a fantastic actress, remember? I won't say the wrong lines." Julian stared at me, dumbfounded. My cold, indifferent tone was completely alien to him. It left him feeling unsettled and deeply anxious. The next morning, I drove to the Vance estate alone. Julian and Chloe were already seated in the grand drawing room when I arrived. "Lauren, sit," Eleanor Vance said, setting down her porcelain teacup and gesturing toward the armchair opposite her. I sat down, keeping my back perfectly straight. I had visited this opulent mansion over fifty times. Every single time, I had walked on eggshells, desperately playing the role of the docile, dutiful future daughter-in-law. I had foolishly believed they were slowly accepting me. But looking into Eleanor's cold, calculating eyes now, I realized that acceptance was strictly conditional on my blind obedience. The moment I stopped being obedient, I was nothing more than an insolent outsider. Eleanor spoke first, her tone smooth and businesslike. "Lauren, is it true you're losing the pregnancy?" "Yes." Chloe piped up immediately. "Mrs. Vance, it's all an act! Her entire attitude flipped the second Julian handed her the prenup addendum with the eight-hundred-dollar allowance. She claimed she was in danger, but she didn't even book an immediate procedure. Then she took off the ring, canceled the venue, and packed her bags. It's a textbook manipulation tactic! I've worked in entertainment long enough to recognize this script from a mile away." Hearing Chloe's words, Eleanor's gaze hardened as she turned back to me. "Lauren, I used to think you were a sensible girl." I offered a faint, self-deprecating smile. "Consider me senseless then, Eleanor." Eleanor faltered, taken aback by my complete lack of deference. She forced herself to maintain her composure. "If you have specific demands, lay them on the table. If they aren't unreasonable, the Vance family can accommodate you." I shook my head once more. "I only want one thing: to cancel the wedding." Eleanor frowned. "Weren't you desperate to marry my son all these years?" "That was then." Eleanor's eyebrows knitted together in subtle disgust. "All of this over an eight-hundred-dollar monthly allowance?" A glint of utter disdain flashed across her face. "To think you really were after our money all along." I let out a soft laugh. "Eleanor, before Julian proposed, your family hired private investigators to run a background check on me. The file was forty pages thick. What I was after when I chose Julian---you know better than anyone." Eleanor choked on her words, her lips parting without a sound. Finally, Edward Vance, the patriarch, broke his silence. His voice was deep, authoritative, and accustomed to commanding boardrooms. "Enough. For the sake of the child you're carrying, we can increase the marital settlement. Name your price." They had already made up their minds: all my defiance was just a ploy for a bigger payout. "I don't want your money," I said clearly. Edward's brow furrowed deeper. "Then what do you want? Real estate? Commercial land? Shares in the company?" Chloe couldn't resist chiming in again. "Mr. Vance, don't let her play you! This is textbook reverse psychology. The more you negotiate, the more leverage she thinks she has. If you actually call her bluff and cancel the wedding, she'll come crawling back in pure panic." Edward's eyes darkened thoughtfully. He seemed entirely convinced by Chloe's assessment.Eleanor arranged her features into a poised, chilling smile. "Lauren, you're a bright young woman. Couples fight---that's normal. But don't use an innocent baby and your future marriage as bargaining chips in a petty game." Her smile vanished, her eyes turning razor-sharp. "Take my advice: know your place, and don't stray down the wrong path." Know your place. Those words hit me like needles, piercing straight through my chest. Five years of relentless devotion to the Vance family, and that was their final judgment of my character. I stood up. "Eleanor, this isn't a petty game." "I am officially informing you that the wedding is off." "I've already notified my side of the family. As for your guests, you can handle them yourselves." I turned and walked toward the grand double doors. Behind me, the sharp crash of fine porcelain shattering echoed across the marble floor. I didn't flinch, nor did I look back. Chloe's shrill voice trailed after me. "See that? The more you try to reason with her, the more dramatic she gets! Classic histrionic personality disorder..." Julian called out to his parents, his tone dripping with arrogant certainty. "Mom, Dad, just let her go. Once she gets tired of playing the martyr, she'll come back and apologize." Come back? Apologize? Not this time. Not ever again. With five days left until my monitoring procedure, I moved back into my parents' home. When they learned the wedding was off and that I was at risk of losing the pregnancy, they didn't utter a single word of blame. They had watched me suffer in silence for five long years. They knew the toll it had taken. Within hours, my parents had contacted all our relatives to cancel their travel plans, moving faster than I ever expected. Meanwhile, the wedding planner, photographers, and catering company kept blowing up my phone. When I told them the wedding was canceled, they were thoroughly confused. "Wait, but Mr. Vance hasn't canceled anything. He instructed us to proceed as planned..." "He paid the deposit, so you can answer to him. But you do not need to contact me again," I replied. I hung up. That evening, Chloe posted a poll in our mutual Snapchat group chat. The title was bold and humiliating: Taking bets: How many days until Lauren crawls back? The options were: 1 Day, 1 Week, 1 Month. Over twenty mutual friends had already voted, almost unanimously selecting 1 Day. I scrolled through the names. Julian hadn't voted, but he hadn't told her to take it down either. I tapped Leave Group. A few minutes later, Chloe added me right back. Don't be shy, Lauren! If you're brave enough to put on a show, why are you afraid of an audience? I exited the group permanently and blocked both Chloe and Julian across all platforms. Tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding day. It was also the day of my emergency procedure. Everything was finally coming to an end. The next morning, my parents and I arrived at the hospital just as Julian's fleet of bridal luxury cars pulled up outside my parents' apartment building. Julian rang the doorbell repeatedly, but no one answered. Chloe stood beside him, dressed in a sharp black tailored suit, playing the part of his best woman. "Called it! She's still putting on a show on the actual wedding day!" Chloe scoffed. "She's playing the runaway bride trope to perfection." Julian frowned, pulling out his phone to dial my number. It went straight to voicemail. He sent a text, only for a red exclamation mark to pop up instantly. Chloe smirked. "Don't panic! She's definitely hiding somewhere nearby, watching you. She's waiting until you get desperate enough to beg, and then she'll make her grand entrance!" Julian's frustration boiled over. His attendants and business associates were all watching. This was a direct slap to his pride. Suddenly, his phone rang. He answered immediately, snapping in fury, "Lauren, have you lost your damn mind? Where the hell are you?" The voice on the other end sputtered in shock. "Julian, it's Lucas!" Lucas's voice was breathless with panic. "I just saw Lauren at the hospital! She's hemorrhaging! Dr. Evelyn Harper, the Chief of OB/GYN, is personally taking her into surgery! They just wheeled her into the OR!" Julian froze, his mind momentarily going blank. Chloe jumped up instantly, waving her arms. "It's fake! She specifically picked today of all days to have a medical emergency? How melodramatic can she get?!"