Chapter 5: The Paper Cage

I stared at the agreement in disbelief.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes scanning the fine print. It was like a punch to the gut.

“Marcus, what’s the meaning of this?”

“You don’t trust me?”

My voice shook, teetering on the edge of anger and heartbreak. I felt exposed, like every secret hope I’d ever had was suddenly up for negotiation.

Maybe he didn’t expect I’d overheard their conversation, so he made up an excuse.

He avoided my gaze, fiddling with his watch, a nervous tic he’d never had before.

“Natalie, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s a family rule—we have to sign a prenup.”

He sounded rehearsed, like he’d practiced the line in front of the mirror a dozen times.

I retorted, “If you trust me, why is a prenup necessary?”

“We’ve dated for three years, not three months, let alone three days.”

“If you still don’t trust me after three years, maybe we shouldn’t get married at all.”

My words landed heavy in the room, the kind of truth you can’t take back.

I slammed the agreement down on the table and stormed out.

The paper rattled, echoing my anger as I slammed the door behind me. My footsteps thundered down the hallway.

That night, Marcus found me, sincerely admitted he was wrong, and said he’d just been confused for a moment.

He knocked gently, his voice soft, apology written all over his face. He looked like the boy I fell for—lost, unsure, desperate not to lose me.

He promised never to mention the prenup again.

He swore it was a mistake, that he’d let his friends get in his head. I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe him.

I softened and forgave him.

Because love makes you blind. Or maybe just hopeful, even when you know better.

I thought it was just a small bump before marriage. I didn’t expect it was only the beginning.

Looking back, I wish I’d trusted my gut, but you always think you’re the exception—never the rule.