So when he told me I was finally going to meet his parents, I was excited — nervous, but excited. Last night was the night. We arrived at this mid-range but nice restaurant, the type where you iron your shirt but don’t need to Google the menu beforehand.
Mike’s parents were already seated. He introduced me, and I barely got out a polite “Nice to meet you” before he turned to me, completely straight-faced, and said:
“Hope you brought your wallet. We’re starving.”
At first, I thought he was joking — a weird joke, but still a joke.
But then his dad stood up like a judge about to sentence someone and cleared his throat dramatically. “If she’s already struggling now,” he announced to the table, “imagine the future.”
I blinked, unsure whether I was being pranked. His mom gave me this pitying look — the exact expression you’d give a toddler trying to pay bills with Monopoly money.
I didn’t argue. I simply excused myself, walked to the register, and paid for my meal only — the ultimate plot twist, apparently — and left. Now Mike is calling me dramatic, emotional, and “unable to handle his family’s expectations.” His parents apparently think I “failed the test.”
So… is this real life?
What am I even supposed to do with this? Is there a universe where this isn’t an entire factory of waving red flags? Do I run, or do I bother having one last conversation with him?
Because right now, I’m leaning hard toward running. Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered.
Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
