According to a recent report from the New York Post, New Yorker Bradley Moss has filed suit in the Manhattan Supreme Court seeking the recovery of a $125,000 engagement ring he gave to his ex-fiancee, Amy Bzura. The plan was for Moss and Bzura to wed back on October 29th, but the wedding was apparently called off at the last minute. No word as to the reason for ending the nuptials. Regardless, Moss is now seeking the return of the ring or its cash value plus interest as well as punitive damages. Lawsuits arising out of the predicament of the cancelled wedding engagement ring are nothing new. For reasons unknown, we here at Abnormal Use find them fascinating. Perhaps it is because they way these cases are often decided is the perfect blend of property law, soap opera, and reality television. In other words, the engagement ring cases are most-suitable for an episode of “Judge Judy.”
At common law, an engagement ring was considered a conditional gift given on the promise to marry. If the marriage did not occur, then the condition was not fulfilled and, thus, the ring shall be returned to the donor. This remains the law in many jurisdictions, including New York (but with a couple of exceptions). Other jurisdictions, however, have added a new twist to the conditional gift paradigm – fault. In other words, while an engagement ring is considered a conditional gift, a donor cannot recover the ring if he/she was at-fault for ending the engagement. Bring on the soap operas and reality TV.
We can understand the equity behind the introduction of fault to the analysis. However, the fault determination creates a couple significant issues. What is “fault” for ending a relationship, anyway? It isn’t always that clear from a legal sense. For example, what if two people are engaged to be married and one of the people gets a little too intoxicated at a bar one night and has a moment of infidelity. The cheater still wants to get married, but the other finds out about the affair and calls off the wedding. Is the cheater at fault or is it the other who said, “I don’t want to marry you?” If you think the answer is clear, remove the cheating aspect of the hypothetical and replace it with any other complaint. See how this might be a problem?
The question we have to ask ourselves is should juries really be deciding who is to blame for ending a relationship? More importantly, is this really something a jury wants to decide? Sure, it may be more entertaining than your average contract dispute, but, in our opinion, deciding who is to blame for ending a relationship is often an impossible task. After all, if one’s own peers can’t decide, what makes us think a jury of them wants to anyways?