I Caught My Fiancée On Security Cameras Measuring My House For Her Parents’ Furniture Behind My Back. She Even Forged My Authority For An Appraisal. How Do I Tell Everyone The Wedding Is Off?
“We Only Have One Wedding”
When I added them up and asked about it, Nevada gave me this look like I was being petty.
“Those are for my family’s hotel rooms,” she said. “My parents, my sisters, my aunt Carol, and my cousin Lisa. They’re all coming from out of state for the wedding.”
“Nevada, we specifically talked about this. We agreed that families would handle their own travel and accommodation costs.”
“That was before I really thought about it,” she said. “My family isn’t as well off as yours. They shouldn’t have to stress about hotel costs during our special weekend. Your parents can afford their own room.”
Yeah, my parents could afford it because they make smart financial decisions and live within their means. Nevada’s parents couldn’t afford it because they lease cars they can’t pay for and take cruises on credit cards. But apparently pointing that out would make me the bad guy.
“We only have one wedding in this life,” Nevada said when I pushed back. “Why not do it right? Why not make sure everyone we love can be there without worrying about money?”
That phrase “We only have one wedding in this life” became her justification for everything. Upgraded flowers because we only have one wedding. Professional hair and makeup for all four bridesmaids because we only have one wedding.
Meanwhile, Nevada hadn’t added another penny to the joint account since that initial $8,000. She was spending money like we were millionaires while contributing nothing extra to cover the overages. I was basically funding her entire family’s wedding vacation while she acted like it was our shared decision.
The joint account balance kept dropping. $28,000, $25,000, $22,000. At this rate, we’d blow through everything before we even got to the big vendors like catering and the band.
But every time I brought up the spending, Nevada would get emotional and say I was stressing her out during an already overwhelming time. I know I should have shut it down right then. Should have had a serious conversation about budgets and boundaries.
But I kept telling myself it was just wedding stress, that things would go back to normal after we were married. I figured I could absorb the extra costs if it meant avoiding conflict during an already tense time. Biggest mistake I could have made.
A “Meaningful” Proposal
What I thought was just wedding overspending was actually Nevada showing me exactly who she really was. And the real test was still coming. About 6 weeks before the wedding, Nevada and I are having one of our Sunday morning planning sessions.
We developed this routine where we’d sit at my kitchen table with coffee and wedding binders, going through vendor confirmations and guest RSVPs. Pretty normal couple stuff, even if these sessions sometimes turned into arguments about her latest expensive ideas. This particular Sunday, everything seemed chill.
We just finished updating the final headcount—147 people, which was about 20 more than we originally planned because Nevada kept adding distant relatives and work friends. I was internally calculating what that would do to our catering costs when she brought up something completely out of left field.
“I’ve been thinking about wedding gifts,” she said, not looking up from her phone where she was scrolling through some wedding planning app. “Not the registry stuff from guests, but what we give to our families.”
I’m still focused on the guest list math, trying to figure out if we need to rent additional tables.
“What do you mean? Like thank you gifts for the parents?”
“Sort of, but bigger than that.” She sat down her phone and got this look on her face like she was about to say something important. “Your parents are pretty comfortable financially. They don’t really need anything material from us.”
True enough. My parents are both retired teachers with decent pensions, own their house outright, take nice vacations every year. They’re not wealthy, but they’re secure and don’t want for much.
“But my parents are in a different situation,” Nevada continued. “They’ve been stuck in that same rental apartment for like 15 years, never been able to save enough for a down payment because rent keeps going up and they had some credit issues a few years back.”
This was true too. Nevada’s parents live in a decent two-bedroom apartment, but they’re basically throwing away $1,400 a month in rent with nothing to show for it. Her dad works at an auto parts store and her mom does part-time administrative work for a dentist.
Nice people, but they make questionable financial choices. Always have car payments, take expensive vacations they can’t afford, that kind of stuff.
“Okay,” I said, still not seeing where this was heading. “What are you thinking?”
Nevada leaned forward across the table, getting more animated. “What if we gave them something that would actually change their lives? Something meaningful that shows how much we appreciate everything they’ve done for us.”
The way she was building up to this was making me nervous. “Like what?”
“The house on Maple Street.”
