My fiancé said, “Don’t call me your future husband.” I nodded. That night, I quietly removed my name from every guest list he’d made. Two days later, he walked into lunch and froze at what waited on his chair.

He cared every time my name unlocked a door.

I looked at him, then at the ring he had selected using my money through my jeweler.

“Of course,” I said evenly. “I understand.”

His smile returned instantly. He thought he had won.

That night, while he slept in my penthouse with his phone turned facedown and his shoes abandoned on my marble floor, I sat at my desk and opened every wedding spreadsheet he had ever created.