She also organized the guest transfers and booked the hotel room for their first night as a married couple. Everything went smoothly, without major disagreements. Only occasionally did Ashley catch herself thinking that John seemed somewhat detached regarding certain details that mattered to her.
She attributed this to the difference between male and female perceptions of weddings and his busy work schedule. The last days before the wedding had turned into a real marathon, she needed to pick up her dress from the atelier after the final fitting, check the readiness of the rings, call the toastmaster to confirm the program, and reconfirm the restaurant reservation. The to-do list seemed only to grow.
Even though Ashley methodically checked items off her planner, the feeling that there was always something urgent and important left undone never left her. John had stayed late at work that evening, saying he had stopped by his mother’s. Ashley didn’t press for details.
His mother really did have health problems and often called him for help, sometimes for medicine, sometimes for fixing household appliances. John returned late when Ashley was already getting ready for bed. He was strangely quiet and distracted.
He answered questions with short replies. When she asked about his mother, he grumbled that everything was fine and quickly went to the shower. When he lay down beside her, Ashley felt tension.
He lay too straight, too still, as if afraid to move. She decided not to disturb him with questions. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.
We both need rest, but even at breakfast, John continued to act oddly, sometimes freezing with a cup of coffee in his hand, staring at a single spot, other times shifting items on the table for no reason. When Ashley asked, is everything okay? He forced a smile and said he was just nervous about the wedding. Now, sitting with the checklist in her hands, Ashley recalled his behavior again.
It was completely uncharacteristic of her usually calm and composed fiancee, and it began to worry her. She put the planner aside and sipped her tea. At that moment, John appeared in the doorway of the living room with such a determined look that Ashley involuntarily straightened up.
We need to talk, he said in an unusually serious tone. Of course, Ashley gestured to the space next to her on the sofa. Sit down.
You’re acting strange today. Did something happen? John stayed standing, nervously tapping his fingers on the doorframe. You see, he hesitated, then, as if having made up his mind, blurted out in one breath, darling, in my family, there’s a tradition only men can own property.
So you need to transfer your apartment to me. At that moment, Ashley took a sip of tea, choked, and started coughing. The hot liquid burned her throat, but the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the shock of what she had just heard.
She placed the cup on the table, still coughing, trying to process his words. What? She finally managed to say, John, are you joking? But from his expression, Ashley realized this was no joke. John stood there, fists clenched, with a strange mixture of determination and uncertainty on his face.
No, I’m not joking, he finally said. He approached and sat across from her in the armchair, not on the sofa beside her as usual. This is serious.
In my family, the man is the head of the household, and all property must be registered in his name. Ashley stared at him, trying to determine if he had lost his mind. It was so absurd, so inconsistent with everything she knew about John, that her first reaction was disbelief.
John, in two years of being together, you’ve never once mentioned such a tradition Ashley made air quotes with her fingers. And now, the day before the wedding, you suddenly bring it up? John clearly felt awkward. I didn’t want to worry you ahead of time.
I thought when the time came, you’d understand. Understand what? Ashley’s voice began to rise. That I should just hand over the apartment I earned over years? John, are you out of your mind? It’s not just handing it over, he also began to raise his voice.
We’re getting married tomorrow, we’ll be a family. What difference does it make whose name the apartment is under? If it makes no difference, Ashley countered, feeling anger rising inside her, then why don’t you transfer something of yours to me? Oh, right, you don’t have anything. That was a low blow.
Ashley immediately regretted her words as they left her mouth. John’s face darkened. Exactly, I have nothing.
And now you’re going to reproach me for that? I thought we were above material matters. I’m not a beggar. I’m not reproaching.
Ashley tried to soften her tone. I’m just trying to understand the logic. You never mentioned such a tradition.
We never discussed that after the wedding I should give up ownership of my apartment. This is a serious decision, John. It can’t be made at the last minute.
John sighed, as if explaining something simple to a child who didn’t understand. Ashley, it’s just a formality. Nothing will change for you.
We’ll live here together. Everything will be as before. The documents will just be in my name as the head of the family.
Ashley couldn’t believe her ears. Formality? John, we’re talking about real estate worth millions. This is not a formality.
It’s a serious legal action with far-reaching consequences. She looked carefully at her fiancé, trying to understand what was happening. John had never shown such archaic views before.
He had always seemed like a modern man, respecting her independence and professional achievements. Is this because of your visit to your mother? Ashley guessed. Did she put this idea in your head? From the way John’s face twitched, she knew she had hit the mark.
What does mom have to do with this? He protested weakly. This is between you and me. Then let’s call her now and ask.
Ashley reached for her phone. John grabbed her hand. Don’t bother her, he said hastily.
Okay, yes, we talked about it yesterday. Mom reminded me of the family tradition. All women in our family transfer their property to their husbands.
My grandmother did it, my mother too. And how happy are they? Ashley replied sarcastically, freeing her hand. Especially your mother, who lives in a one-bedroom apartment even though your father has a respectable position.
That was another blow, but Ashley could no longer hold back. John’s parents had always evoked mixed feelings in her. His father, Gregory, worked as a chief engineer at a large company, yet the family lived modestly.
His mother, Dolores, was a housewife with a domineering personality who, however, became the embodiment of maternal care in front of her son. Ashley had visited them several times and always felt uncomfortable under his future mother-in-law’s scrutinizing gaze. Don’t you dare speak like that about my family.
John slammed his fist on the table, making the cups jump. They live the way they want. Okay, I’m sorry.
Ashley realized she had gone too far. But understand me too. You’re putting me in a position to make a serious decision without discussion, without preparation, literally on the eve of our wedding.
That’s unfair, John. He calmed slightly and sat back in the armchair. I understand this is sudden, but think about it.
We are a family, one unit. All our property will be shared. What difference does it make who it’s formally registered under? It’s just a nod to tradition.
If it’s just a nod to tradition, Ashley tried to stay calm, then why don’t we establish joint ownership or sign a prenuptial agreement that protects both our interests? John shook his head. No, that’s not in keeping with tradition. Everything must be under the husband’s name, and you think I’ll just agree to that? Why not? He looked at her.
If you love me and trust me, what’s the problem? John asked with genuine bewilderment. Ashley took a deep breath. Conflicting emotions battled inside her.
On one hand, she truly loved and trusted John. On the other, the demand to transfer the apartment seemed so absurd, so inconsistent with what she knew of him, that it made her question their relationship. John, let’s postpone this conversation.