My sister treats her husbands like hired help and I'm watching history repeat itself

I'm genuinely worried about my older sister, Angela. She's always been the leader in every situation—class president, team captain, the one organizing every family gathering. But somewhere along the way, her confidence turned into something else. She got so used to being in control that she forgot where the boundaries are. It destroyed her first marriage. And I'm terrified her second husband's patience is running out too.

Angela met her first husband, Scott, during college. He was a couple of years older—tall, handsome, a lacrosse player from a well-respected family. My friends were so jealous that my sister managed to lock him down in just two months. Both sets of parents approved, and they got married quickly. But even at the wedding, Angela acted like she was royalty and Scott was the help. I told myself it was just wedding-day nerves. Besides, I had a feeling the rushed timeline had something to do with the slight bump under her dress that she kept trying to hide. Angela denied everything, of course, but seven months later, she gave birth to their son, Tyler.

She finished her senior year with a newborn and was absolutely furious about it. She kept saying her career was "on hold indefinitely" because of the baby. Meanwhile, I couldn't understand why she was so upset. Scott was a kind, attentive husband with a solid income and a nice car. His parents had gifted them a beautiful three-bedroom condo—fully furnished, freshly renovated. Most women would kill for that life! But no, my sister always needed more.

I started noticing that she criticized Scott constantly, especially in front of other people. At our last Christmas together as a family, she actually raised her voice at him—right in front of his own mother. She didn't even flinch. I think that moment broke something in him.

Eventually, Scott's nerves gave out. And I'm sure his mom wasn't helping, probably reminding him daily that he'd made a mistake.

One day, Angela and Scott had a massive blowout fight. She dramatically packed her bags and took Tyler to our parents' house, clearly expecting Scott to come crawling after her, begging her to come back.

He didn't.

Two weeks later, Angela used her key to walk into what she still considered "their" apartment. Standing in the doorway was a young woman in slippers and a bathrobe.

"Hi! Can I help you?" the woman asked sweetly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for Scott. I'm his wife."

"Oh, nice to meet you! I'm Angie. Scott left early for work today. You're welcome to wait, or you can come back later."

Angela just scoffed. "Angie, huh? Cute. He picked a replacement with the same name so he wouldn't get confused."

Of course, she didn't go back. Her pride wouldn't allow it. Instead, she filed for divorce, painting herself as the victim of a scheming, cheating husband who coldly threw out his wife and child. She was so convincing that the judge seemed to buy her story.

But Angela made one critical miscalculation: she expected to get half the condo. Too bad Scott's parents had purchased it. She walked away with nothing.

Angela met her second husband while waitressing at a local bar and grill. I don't know if she ever thought about Scott during that time—the man who gave her a comfortable life where she didn't have to work. Knowing my sister, she probably did. And she was probably furious about it.

The bar attracted a lot of off-duty cops and firefighters. They were loud and cocky, but they tipped well. One of those "tough guys" caught Angela's eye.

His name was Roman—which I'll admit sounds more like a soap opera character than a real person. When I first met him, he honestly scared me. Hard eyes, a scar above his eyebrow, a military-style buzz cut. He said he was a police officer, but he looked like he'd just gotten out of prison. His way of talking didn't help. But Angela was smitten. He had a big house with a yard and a solid income. I guess those were the selling points she needed. They got married a year later, and the following year, they had a daughter, Sophie.

After maternity leave, Angela didn't go back to work. She spent her days picking out matching dresses and bows for Sophie, got her driver's license, and started driving Tyler to and from school herself. They even got a dog—well, technically it was a gift for Tyler. "And they all lived happily ever after," I wish I could say.

But I can't.

From the beginning, Roman was cold and authoritative with Angela. Sure, he bought her expensive gifts and took her on tropical vacations, but he always had the final word. For a while, it seemed like he was the one person my sister couldn't steamroll.

That's changed.

Somehow, Angela managed to break this tough, hardened man too.

A couple of weeks ago, our whole family attended our cousin's wedding. It should have been a joyful celebration, but Angela spent the entire evening barking orders at Roman like he was her personal assistant. At one point, she literally sent him outside—in just his dress shirt—to "get some fresh air and cool off." It was maybe forty degrees outside.

Roman didn't make a scene. He quietly pulled Angela aside to talk. At first, she listened. But that didn't last long. Soon she was waving her arms, raising her voice, and the only phrase I caught was: "Fine! Then drive home by yourself!"

She spun on her heel and marched back to the reception, laughing and joking with guests like nothing had happened.

Roman stayed until the end of the night. Maybe out of love for Angela. Maybe because he was thinking about the two little kids they'd brought to the wedding. Either way, I respected him for it.

The next morning, at the day-after brunch, I decided to say something.

"Hey, Angela. How's it going?"

"Oh, fine. Roman drank too much last night and snored like a chainsaw. Other than that, everything's great."

"Actually, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What, his snoring?"

"No. The way you treat him. Especially in public. Men don't forgive that. Didn't what happened with Scott teach you anything?"

Her face went cold. "What does Scott have to do with anything? He's a traitor. He replaced me with some cheap knockoff who even had the same name."

"Angela, listen to yourself. A wife needs to be wise. Your goal should be to build your family—not destroy it."

She laughed bitterly. "Okay, little sister, let me stop you right there. Maybe worry about your own marriage? Honestly, it's a miracle you even found a husband with that plain-Jane look you've got going on. Now look at me - men would line up around the block for a chance with me. So Roman better appreciate what he has and do what I say. Got it?"

I took a breath. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help. But here's the thing - those men aren't going to be lining up forever. Beauty fades. What matters is what's inside. And honestly, Angela... I'm not sure there's much there anymore."

I've regretted that conversation a thousand times since. I wish I could just forget it. But Angela is my sister. Right now she's strutting around like a peacock, but when Roman finally leaves her—and I'm starting to think it's a matter of when, not if - she'll come running to me in tears.

And I don't want to watch her suffer again. Being a single mom with two kids isn't a fairy tale.

But how do I help someone who refuses to see the truth? How do I show her that her need for control is pushing her straight toward rock bottom - again?