My boyfriend of two years had been reluctant to commit to marriage—until he learned I was inheriting a three-bedroom apartment. Once that news broke, I decided to go along with his sudden change of heart.

Patrick always said we needed more time—before moving in together, getting engaged, or making any real commitment. But the moment I inherited a paid-off apartment, he couldn’t wait. That’s when I realized—I was never his first choice.

I spent years watching my friends fall in love while I stayed single, joking about ending up a crazy cat lady (without even owning a cat). When Patrick noticed me at a bar two years ago, I thought, finally, my turn.

But over time, I ignored the little things—the lack of effort, his refusal to move out of his mom’s, and his avoidance of serious discussions about the future. “We don’t know each other well enough yet,” he’d say.

Then my aunt passed away, leaving me a fully paid-off apartment. When I told Patrick, he showed up at my door that same night with flowers, wine, and a ring. It didn’t add up—just two weeks before, he’d said rings were too expensive.

Despite the red flags, I said yes. But I had one condition: he would never enter the apartment before me. He agreed without hesitation.

For weeks, he played the perfect fiancé, talking about our future, even suggesting things like a flat-screen TV or a new gaming chair. But deep down, I knew he was just waiting for the day the apartment would be officially mine.

That day came. I came home early from work to find Patrick and his mom measuring the living room. “I think sheer curtains would brighten up the space,” she said. It was then that I knew—they planned to move in together, with or without my consent.

I confronted them, and Patrick tried to defend himself. But I wasn’t fooled. I knew the truth—he only proposed because he wanted the apartment.

Patrick snapped, accusing me of being ungrateful. But I wasn’t done. I revealed I’d sold the apartment. The money was already in my account.

Patrick lost it. I walked out, grinning, knowing I’d made the right decision.

Within a week, I was living in a new city, in my own place, without the manipulative boyfriend or his freeloading mom. Patrick tried to reach out, but I blocked him. And me? I was finally living life on my own terms, happier than ever.