I let out a dry laugh. Yes—why had I become a workaholic in the first place?
Because the playing field between men and women was never balanced.
Ethan only needed to show up for a morning meeting to secure his role as CEO.
Dividends fell into his lap every month, enough to drown in.
But me? I had to stay up all night writing proposals, compiling reports, personally attending endless dinners and networking events—giving everything I had just to hold the same weight in the company as he did.
And whose fault was that?
The man I’d loved for ten years, the husband I had chosen myself—was it that I didn’t want to spend time with him?
Why must a woman’s role at home always come at the cost of her career? I wasn’t willing to accept that.
If I had to choose, I would rather give up love than sacrifice my work.
I wiped away my tears, washed up quickly, and went right back to my laptop.
Men might abandon me, but work and money never would.
Ethan didn’t come home for an entire week, not even a single text.
Even the fragile peace we used to maintain—he couldn’t be bothered anymore.
Yet he still didn’t bring up divorce.