I met Fabian almost exactly two years ago at the weirdest possible moment. I was grabbing some groceries at Trader Joe’s when I heard this store manager absolutely laying into some guy about parking in the wrong spot or something. The manager was being such a jerk about it, all redfaced and pointing, making a scene in front of everyone.
The guy—Fabian—just stood there looking mortified. Idk what came over me tbh. But I stepped in and said something like:
“The parking signs were confusing and maybe we could all just take a breath.”
The manager glared at me but backed off. Fabian looked so relieved, and as we both checked out, he asked if he could buy me coffee as a thank you.
We clicked immediately. He was charming, tall with this crooked smile that did things to my heart. He listened when I talked, or at least seemed to, remembered little details, and texted me good morning every single day. By our third date, I was already falling hard.
My parents, especially my dad, were always super supportive of me. They’d helped me get an apartment after college while I was finding myself career-wise. Dad also helped with my car payments and some other bills. I always felt a little guilty about it, but they insisted they wanted to help while I got on my feet.
Fabian moved in with me about 8 months into our relationship. It seemed fast, but his roommate situation had fallen apart, and it just made sense. My parents were cautiously optimistic. Mom liked him right away. Dad took longer to warm up, but eventually he seemed to accept Fabian. They even played golf together a few times, which was dad’s ultimate seal of approval.
Everything seemed perfect until it wasn’t.
About six months ago, Fabian’s parents started coming around more often. They lived about an hour away and would drop by for dinner or Sunday brunch. His mom, Lydia, was always complimenting my apartment or my cooking or whatever. His dad, Arthur, was quieter, but polite enough. They were fine, I guess, but something about them always felt off, like they were performing rather than just being themselves.
During one of these visits, Lydia got tearyeyed looking around my living room and said something like:
“You have such a warm atmosphere here. It’s been so long since we felt like a family.”
Arthur nodded along, adding that their Fabian is just golden and they hope we stay together a long time. It felt weirdly intense, but I smiled and thanked them.
Looking back, there were signs I missed. Little comments Fabian would make about my dad’s generosity or jokes about how he’d hit the jackpot with me. The way he’d text his parents right after we got anything new for the apartment. How he never seemed to be actively looking for better work opportunities despite constantly talking about his big plans.
I started noticing patterns whenever we were around my parents and the topic of money or careers came up. Fabian would go quiet or change the subject. If my dad mentioned his business, Fabian would suddenly become super interested, asking detailed questions. When we were alone later, he’d make these little digs about my dad being old money or set in his ways.
One night when we were scrolling through Instagram together, he saw a photo of his ex and muttered something about how she had the looks but not the stability. When I asked what he meant, he just kissed my forehead and said I was the whole package. I remember feeling weird about it.
I started paying more attention. I noticed he’d be on his phone a lot, smiling at texts, but would put it face down if I walked near. Once I glimpsed him messaging someone about how things were looking up financially. When I asked, he said it was just his buddy talking about a new job. I wanted to believe him.
Three times. Three times I overheard snippets of phone conversations with his mom where he said things like:
“It’s comfortable.”
Or:
“I’m just holding on for now.”
Each time he’d see me and immediately switch topics, talking loudly about weekend plans or what to have for dinner.
After the third time, I started recording random conversations when he was on the phone. I know that sounds crazy invasive, but something felt so off and I needed to know if I was being paranoid or if my instincts were right. Mostly, I caught nothing. Just normal conversations about sports or plans with friends.
Then came that dinner at his parents house.
They invited us over for this fancy meal. Steaks, salads, wine, the works. Lydia kept touching my arm and telling me how happy they were that Fabian had found someone so supportive. Arthur asked questions about my dad’s business, which felt weird since they’d met several times already.
After dinner, I offered to cut the pie Lydia had baked. I went to the kitchen, leaving my phone on the dining room table, but before I left, I started the voice memo recording. I just needed to know. The kitchen and dining room were separated by a half wall, so I could hear them, but they couldn’t see me.
I stood there slicing the pie when I heard Fabian laugh. That same laugh he does when he’s trying to impress someone. His voice got lower, but I could still hear every word.
“She’s convenient. Her dad’s money keeps me comfortable while I figure things out.”
My hands froze on the knife. I might have stopped breathing for a second. He went on.
“I’ll stick around long enough to squeeze what I can out of her. Then I’ll find someone worth showing off.”
I heard Arthur snort like he was amused. Then Lydia’s voice, quieter but clear.
“Just don’t get her pregnant.”
Fabian again.
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