He threw down his knife and fork and began yelling at me.
“Fine… I’ll buy it for you. But this is the only time! As for divorce, I’ll take it as you just venting. If you bring it up again, I won’t let it slide…”
“Don’t forget, you’re just a housewife now. Without me, what could you possibly do? You’d be useless. Take a look at my friends’ wives—see how sensible they are?”
He must have forgotten… If it weren’t for him kneeling before me five years ago, begging me to stay and support his startup, I would never have given up my promotion, never have lost myself.
After graduating from college with excellent grades, I had been accepted by a Federal Contracting Firm.
But him? He sent out countless résumés, went through endless interviews, and only managed to get hired by a small private company that paid less than half my salary.
A year later, he decided to start his own business. He knelt before me, begging me to give him all my savings.
I agreed. And he succeeded.
Now, hearing him belittle me with those cruel words, a sharp pain tore through my chest. So this was the end of love—not growing old together, but erasing the good memories.