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.

The next morning I called my aunt and asked her, “What would you do if you realized the love you believed in was actually based on self interest?”

I went to see her at her house in Bellevue, and I told her everything.

She listened quietly and then said, “The problem is not the car, the car is proof of how they see you, not as a partner, but as a resource.”

That made everything clear in a painful way.

I went back home knowing I could not marry someone hoping respect would come later.

I called Brandon and asked him to meet me at a café near the University District.

He arrived late and looked annoyed.

“I hope you are over it,” he said.

I placed the ring on the table and said, “I am not over it, I understand it now.”

I told him I was canceling the wedding and that I would pay my part of the expenses, and I did not want to argue anymore.

He got angry and said, “Your aunt filled your head with nonsense.”

I replied, “No, you helped me see clearly.”

He called me cold and selfish, then tried to make me feel guilty.

“My mother just wanted the best for me,” he said.

“At my expense,” I answered.

“Couples support each other,” he insisted.

“Support is not something you demand like that,” I said.