When I married Jake, I thought we wanted the same things: a strong, loving partnership and a bright future. For three years, I carried the weight of our household, believing I was supporting his hard work from his home office. But the day I discovered what his “work” actually entailed, everything changed.
Jake always referred to himself as “the busiest man on Earth,” often saying he was “building our future.” I believed him. Love meant trust, and I trusted him deeply. I took care of everything else—raising our two children, managing the house, and even working part-time to stretch our budget. Despite late bills and mounting stress, I told myself his breakthrough was just around the corner.
Our daily life revolved around Jake’s “war room,” as he called it. He locked himself in his office from dawn until late, claiming to be in “meetings” or “crunching numbers.” The rest of us adjusted, tiptoeing through the house to avoid disturbing him. Our family operated around his needs, but the cracks in our foundation were growing.
One chaotic Wednesday, everything fell apart. The kids were restless, Tyler racing the dog around the dining table while Mia practiced cartwheels in the living room. I was scrubbing the kitchen counters, trying to maintain order in the chaos. “Keep it down!” I hissed at Tyler. “Daddy’s working.”
Jake had warned us at breakfast, “Critical meeting today. Zero interruptions.” His words echoed in my mind as Tyler’s antics caused the frying pan to slip from my hands and crash to the floor. The noise was deafening.
Jake stormed out of his office, his face red with anger. “Can’t you keep it down for one minute?” he roared. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is during a work meeting?”
I froze, shocked by his outburst. The kids stood still, eyes wide with fear. I opened my mouth to apologize, but a strange, playful voice drifted from his office. A woman’s voice. My stomach tightened. “Jake,” I asked slowly, “who’s in there?”
Panic flashed across his face. “It’s just a client,” he stammered, blocking the doorway. “Stay out of it.”
Something in his tone shattered my restraint. I pushed past him into the room, and what I saw left me speechless. His computer screen displayed an online game with bright, cartoonish graphics. In the corner was a video call window showing an animated avatar labeled SuzyLovely88. The avatar giggled, completely at odds with the tension in the room.
“What is this?” I demanded, my voice trembling.
Jake straightened, his panic giving way to defiance. “It’s my hobby,” he said, puffing out his chest. “You’re always so boring! I need an escape. Suzy gets me. She’s fun to talk to, unlike you.”
His words were like a slap. “Your hobby?” I echoed. “You’ve been locking yourself in here, pretending to work, while I’ve been breaking my back for this family? And for what? To talk to some stranger online?”
“She’s not just a stranger!” he snapped. “She actually listens to me, which is more than I can say for you.”