I have been engaged to my fiancé, David, for five months now. Things were good at first. We laughed a lot and enjoyed dreaming about our future together. Recently, I got a big raise at my job. It made me happy because it felt like a reward for my hard work. The raise was pretty significant—about 20% higher than my old salary. After a few months, I got another bump, so in total, I now earn almost 30% more than David does. At first, we joked about it. He teased me, calling me the “big earner” in the relationship. I thought it was sweet, as if we were just playing around.

But over time, I noticed little changes in how David behaved. He started dropping hints about how I could help pay for this or that, since I “earned more.” If we went out for a quick meal or picked up groceries, he sometimes glanced at me with an expectant look. At first, I brushed it off because I believed in sharing expenses fairly. Besides, I love him, and if my higher salary helps us both enjoy life, why not?

However, last Tuesday, something happened that shifted my perspective. David had made plans for a dinner with two of his close friends, Tim and Marcus. He told me we’d go to a trendy new restaurant downtown—fancy but not insanely expensive. I was excited because I like Tim and Marcus, and I enjoy nice food once in a while. We dressed up a bit and headed out. The night was going well at first. We joked about old stories from David’s college days, and they asked me about my job. It felt nice to have a fun evening with friends.

We placed our orders, choosing dishes that sounded delicious. Tim and Marcus each got steak dinners. David ordered a special seafood platter, and I picked a pasta dish. We also shared a couple of appetizers, and the table enjoyed a round of cocktails. The conversation was lively. Tim and Marcus teased David about wedding plans, and David, in turn, made silly jokes about who would give the best toast at the reception. I felt happy and relaxed, even though I had a faint worry at the back of my mind about the final cost of the meal.

Suddenly, halfway through our entrées, David leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “You’re covering this, right?” I pulled back slightly, startled. “What do you mean?” I whispered back. He raised his eyebrows and said softly, “I didn’t bring enough money for this dinner, so you’ll pay the bill. You earn 30% more, remember?” The tone of his voice wasn’t exactly playful. It felt more like he was scolding me or telling me that I owed him something because of my higher salary.

I was so surprised that I almost choked on my pasta. I had never agreed to cover the entire bill. Sure, we sometimes took turns, but it was never announced so bluntly, especially in front of his friends. My cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. But David gave me a look that said, “Don’t make a scene,” as though I wouldn’t dare refuse him in front of Tim and Marcus.

So I nodded slowly and forced a small smile. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t fully concentrate on the rest of the meal. Part of me wanted to call him out right then and there, but I also didn’t want Tim and Marcus to feel uncomfortable. I decided to remain calm and think of a plan.

When the waiter came by to clear our dishes and ask if we wanted dessert, I noticed David’s smug grin. He must have felt confident that I would quietly pay and that the night would go on without any conflict. A moment later, the waiter asked if we’d like separate checks or just one. Before David could open his mouth, I said, “One check, please.” I saw the relief on David’s face. He assumed I would foot the entire bill without question.

As soon as the check arrived, I scanned the total: about $300. That was a hefty sum, but what stung more was David’s assumption that my higher salary automatically made me responsible for everyone’s dinner. I took out my wallet, pulled out my credit card, then paused. I called the waiter back and asked if it was possible to split the bill in a certain way. The waiter said, “Of course,” and I began to explain.

I told him, loud enough for Tim and Marcus to hear, that I would pay for my own meal and for half of David’s meal, but that Tim and Marcus should pay for their own meals, and David should cover the rest of his own meal. Suddenly, Tim and Marcus looked confused. David’s eyes widened in surprise, and he stammered, “B-but I thought—” I cut him off gently. “You said I earn 30% more, but that doesn’t mean I pay for everything.”

Tim gave a little chuckle, possibly sensing some tension but thinking it was all in good fun. Marcus shrugged and said, “No problem. We can each pay our share.” However, David’s face turned red. He tried to lean in and whisper something to me, but I just gave him a calm look and handed my card to the waiter. The waiter did a quick calculation, took Tim’s and Marcus’s money, and gave David his own separate amount.

In the end, David had to pay for his share, which was a substantial sum since he’d ordered one of the pricier dishes plus extra drinks. He looked annoyed. I, on the other hand, kept my cool, though inside I was both proud and nervous. We finished our night with strained smiles, and when we got home, David asked why I had “embarrassed” him in front of his friends. I told him I felt he was the one who embarrassed me first by demanding I pay for everything. After all, a healthy relationship shouldn’t be about forcing the person who earns more to always pay, especially not in front of friends.

He argued that it wasn’t a big deal and that I have more money, so it’s fair for me to cover larger expenses. But to me, his approach felt disrespectful. I reminded him that I have my own financial goals and that we should discuss these matters privately, not spring them on each other at a dinner table.

The conversation ended with both of us feeling upset. Now I worry about what this means for our future marriage. I don’t mind paying for things sometimes, but I also want respect, fairness, and clear communication. If we can’t talk calmly about money now, how will we handle bigger financial decisions once we’re married?

I’m still trying to figure out if I overreacted by splitting the bill the way I did, or if David was wrong to force me to pay in front of his friends. So I have to ask: would you have done the same thing in my place, or do you think I should have handled it differently?