I stay there long after she’s gone, wondering how we ended up here.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Brooke
I didn’t know I would say it until the very moment it came out of my mouth. And before anyone comes after me, no, I didn’t say it for attention. Or for drama. I said it because it’s been building for a while.
And yeah, I know life would be easier if I just stayed home. Everyone says it.It’s easier.But here’s the thing, easier isn’t the same as right.
For me, it comes down to one word:will. I won’t do something I don’t want to just to keep the peace.
If Matthew had framed it differently, if he’daskedinstead of expecting, I might’ve agreed to part-time. Hell, I even considered working from home. It’s an option. A little less pay, sure, but when I factor in childcare, it’s barely a loss. But the way he made it sound? Like my entire existence was already decided for me.
I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life at home, living off my husband’s pay check, my worth measured by how clean the kitchen is and whether the laundry’s folded. And it’s not like that’s notwork. Itisand brutal work at that. But it’s notmychoice.
And that’s what I keep coming back to.
“Because if I stay home, I won’t just be a wife and a mother. I’ll be the cook, the housekeeper, the project manager of every invisible thing in this apartment. And when Matthew comes home late, working weekends and drowning in stress, I won’t even be allowed to be angry. Because guess what? He makes thebucks.
I’ll be expected to swallow it. Smile through it. Be grateful.
And maybe some women are fine with that. But I’m not.
Call me selfish, unreasonable, unlikable, but I’m not.
I can’t build my entire life on someone else’s back and hope he never falters. I won’t. I can love Matthew with everything I have, and still not want to hand him the keys to my entire existence.
Love isn’t obedience.
“You look fierce,” Zara says, snapping me out of my spiral.
I let out a dry laugh. “Matthew and I just got into it last night.”
Her expression softens immediately. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug, though the knot in my stomach doesn’t ease. “It’s like he just… changed. Or maybe he was like this the whole time, and I just didn’t see it.”
Zara tilts her head. “Is it that bad?”
I take a slow breath. “I told him to change or I’m done.”
Her eyes widen. “Woah. Did you mean it?”
I nod, no hesitation. “I can’t be in a relationship where I have to apologize for wanting independence. I signed up for a husband, not a daddy.”
“Good for you,” Zara says without missing a beat. “My ex pulled a lot of asshole shit, and I… well, I said the‘I’m done’thing a lot. Sometimes I even meant it. But then I’d take him back without any real change.”
I bite my lip, because God, I get that. “I love Matthew. I really do.”
Zara gives me a small, sad smile. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
She says it like she’s not really talking about me anymore. I open my mouth to ask, but before I can, there’s a knock at the front door.
I stay seated in the living room while Zara heads over to answer it. Her place is huge, but lived-in, soft lighting pooling across old hardwood floors. Zara lives in a brownstone not far from our apartment, she got it in the divorce. Apparently, it was one of her ex’s less valuable properties, which honestly says a lot about the kind of money he has.
He’s still around. Zara told me once that she and he were halfway to reconciling. He even dumped his girlfriend when his mother convinced him Zara had postpartum depression and was “unstable.” He’s been apologizing ever since.
They share fifty-fifty custody, but he works too, so they agreed to share the nanny at Zara’s house. Honestly, they’re kind of the best divorced couple I’ve ever seen. No screaming matches, no drawn-out court battles. Just… co-parenting that actually works.
