Anton and I had gone to school together, but growing up I wouldn’t say we were close … or even friendly. Anton came from one of the rich families outside town, who owned thousands of acres of prime farm land and won the highest accolades for their wool and cattle. I, on the other hand, was purely working class — something, I was later to learn, that Anton’s parents hated. So although we went to the same country school and were relatively free to socialise with each other, we didn’t. I should have taken the time back then to figure out why that might be!
I vaguely remember Anton leaving to go to boarding school, but it had little impact on my life as I battled it out to receive the best grades I could so that I, too, might one day leave the country community I felt was stifling me.
I was thrilled when I was accepted into university and at 18 found myself the first person in my family for three generations to leave town for the bright lights of the city. I was sure life was going to be a thrill a minute and I wasn’t wrong — but I had no idea from what direction those thrills would come. On my first day at university, stopping by the campus café, I ran straight into a tall, dark, handsome stranger, only to find that he wasn’t so strange after all. It was Anton! A coffee, reminiscing about the place we had escaped, led to dinner, which led to countless other dates. I knew we were never going to be apart.
The problems started two and a half years later, when Anton proposed. His parents, who had tolerated me quite civilly until then, hit the roof. His mother refused to give Anton the family heirloom engagement ring that was meant to be his, not giving in until Anton threatened to sever all ties. It was a beautiful ring too, two carats, far too big for my tiny fingers, but if truth be known, I didn’t care what kind of engagement ring I got, all I wanted was Anton. Still, the day my fiancé slipped the diamond onto my left hand was the happiest day of my life.
It came at a cost though: Anton’s parents refused to pay for any of the wedding and we were still students, so we knew it was going to be a very long engagement. I didn’t care. I wanted to pay for every cent of that wedding myself so that it could be truly ours. If only I’d known what kind of treachery Anton’s mother was capable of…
As I planned my perfect wedding — nothing too fancy, with just the people Anton and I loved to share it — my future mother-in-law planned her own vision of what our marriage should be like, something she didn’t share with me but convinced her son it was what he wanted. So while she wasn’t prepared to pay for any of it, she made Anton feel like it wasn’t worth getting married unless he could do it in the cathedral, with the most expensive cars, a five-star reception, French champagne and couture outfits. We couldn’t afford any of this in a million years!
My reasoning with Anton quickly turned into bitter arguments as he began siding more and more with his mother about money. When he casually suggested that I didn’t get it because I wasn’t from the “right stock”, I knew I had to end it. But blinded by rage and devastation, I also wanted the whole family to pay when I did it! And I knew what would hurt them the most: they were never going to see that ring again!
I visited a few pawn shops on the other side of the city and found the best price for the ring. It wasn’t even a tenth of what it was worth, but I didn’t care. I sold Anton’s mother’s precious ring and booked an airline ticket to Europe. That afternoon, I tearfully told Anton that his mother’s ring had slipped from my finger while I was taking the ferry into the city. Anton was furious that I could be so careless and the argument that followed gave me the perfect opportunity to end things without suspicion. I did feel awful, it was his mother I wanted to hurt more than anyone, but I also knew in my heart that Anton and I weren’t right for each other. He cared too much about money and belongings and grandeur. In the end, I was doing what was best for all of us.
On my trip to Europe, I had the time of my life, meeting the man who was eventually to become my husband. We have been happy together for nearly 10 years, but neither he nor anyone else knows exactly how I paid for the vacation that brought us together — I pawned my ex-fiancé’s family heirloom engagement ring!
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