Chapter 6 - Julian Believed Marriage Came With Hierarchy
I saw it before:
the wedding.
Not clearly enough.
Or maybe clearly enough and I disliked the conclusion.
Julian once said:
“Dad runs the business.”
“Mom runs the home.”
I answered:
“Your mother owns twenty-three percent.”
He laughed.
“She doesn’t care about that stuff.”
“Have you asked?”
“Valerie.”
“What?”
“Not every woman needs to turn everything into a board seat.”
I stared at him.
“Interesting thing to say to the woman you’re marrying.”
He kissed my forehead.
“You’re different.”
There are compliments women should learn to:
fear.
You’re different.
Often means:
I respect you only because you have convinced me you do not belong to the group I disrespect.
I did not think that consciously then.
I heard:
Julian admires me.
When we discussed a prenuptial agreement, he became:
irritated.
Not because I wanted one.
He did too.
The disagreement concerned:
governance.
My attorney proposed explicit language preventing either spouse from acquiring control rights in family businesses simply through marriage.
Julian said:
“Obviously.”
Then his attorney proposed language treating certain future distributions as:
marital.
We negotiated.
One evening Julian slammed:
a folder
onto the table.
“Why does everything need sixteen lawyers?”
“Because we both have complicated assets.”
“I’m not trying to steal your family’s company.”
“And I’m not trying to steal yours.”
He grabbed my wrist.
Not hard enough to bruise.
Hard enough to:
stop me
when I stood to leave.
“Sit down.”
I looked at his hand.
He released me immediately.
“Sorry.”
Then:
“Jesus, Valerie, I’m stressed.”
I said:
“Don’t grab me.”
“I know.”
He apologized again.
Flowers the next morning.
We moved on.
That was a warning.
Not proof Julian would become violent.
But information.
I filed it under:
stress.
That choice belonged to:
May you like
me.
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