“What are you doing?” he asked.
I turned toward him.
“Have you been lying to me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Every time I asked if you were looking for a job, you said you were. You weren’t, were you?”
He sighed.
Then he said something I will never forget.
“I don’t feel like working right now.”
My heart sank.
“Then why did you keep telling me you were?”
He shrugged.
“I think it’s time for you to take on the burden I had.”
I froze.
“The burden?”
“Yes. I supported us for years. Now it’s your turn.”
I stared at him.
“Was being in a relationship with me all these years a burden to you?”
His expression changed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He tried to explain that he had spent years working while I studied. He talked about bills, responsibilities, and how exhausted he had been.
But all I could hear was that he had been keeping score.
I had never asked him to sacrifice his career for me. I had never expected him to support me forever. When I received my promotion, he had told me he was proud of me.
Now he was acting as if my success had given him permission to stop participating in our life together.
I couldn’t stay there.
I grabbed my purse and drove to my sister’s house. The moment she opened the door, I broke down.
I told her everything—the lies, the job he never applied for, the years of relying entirely on my income, and most of all, the way he described supporting our family as if he had been carrying me rather than building a life with me.
My sister listened quietly.
“You don’t have to decide tonight,” she said. “But you need to start thinking about what’s best for you and the baby.”
