At our wedding, when the officiant asked if anyone objected, my mother took it seriously. She stood up, feigning tears, trying to sabotage our marriage. But my fiancé, Brian, had the perfect response.
I met Brian unexpectedly on the metro after a long hospital shift. He was reading The Great Gatsby, and after a brief chat, he promised to lend me his copy. A week later, fate had us cross paths again when he heroically chased down a thief who stole my purse. A simple coffee turned into dinner, and six months later, we were in love.
But my mother never liked him. She criticized his job as a librarian and his modest lifestyle. When Brian proposed with a simple sapphire ring, my mother dismissed it, questioning its worth. At a tense dinner, she tried to make him seem inadequate, but Brian remained polite.
Before our wedding, my mom tried to talk me out of it, saying love didn’t last—money did. On our wedding day, she caused a scene, claiming Brian wasn’t good enough. But Brian had a surprise: he revealed my mom’s hidden financial struggles, exposing her lies. Then, he calmly revealed, “I’m a billionaire.” My mom was stunned.
The crowd was silent, and I was taken aback. Brian explained that he preferred to live humbly and that I loved him for who he was, not his wealth. The ceremony continued, and despite my mother’s humiliation, we got married, surrounded by love and support.
Later, my dad texted, saying he was proud of me for marrying Brian. As we danced under the stars, Brian shared a quote: “In all the great novels, the villains value the wrong things.” I realized then that the true wealth lies in authenticity and love, something my mother would never understand. But Brian embodied it perfectly, making me feel richer than I ever could be.