After a few dates, I met Paul Wesley on the fifth one.
I was always busy with work and not great at house chores. But Paul was the opposite.
He was organized, cooked well, and kept things clean.
He understood how packed my schedule was and never got upset when I had to cancel a date.
From the beginning, our relationship moved forward smoothly.
We both talked about marriage early on, and just three months later, we decided to get married.
But right after our wedding, Paul surprised me with something I never saw coming.
“I’ve quit my job,” he said. “I’ll be a stay-at-home husband now.”
I was shocked.
“What are you saying?” I asked, completely confused.
He calmly replied, “From now on, I’ll take care of all the chores so you can focus on your work.”
“But why would you decide that without even talking to me first?” I asked, still trying to understand.
Paul explained, “You’re making money, so there’s no problem. If I handle the house, it’ll make things easier for you.”
I didn’t know how to respond. It felt like he planned to depend on my income entirely.
Even though I earned well, we weren’t rich.
I told him he should still find a job, even if it was part-time.
But no matter what I said, he wouldn’t listen.
“I’m done working in an office,” he said. “If you’re earning money, that’s enough.”
I was speechless.
His attitude felt selfish, but since we were newly married, I didn’t want to start a fight.
Things got worse when he started asking me to send money to his parents.
“Family should support each other,” he said. “I’m a stay-at-home husband now, so Jennifer, I’m counting on you.”
I wouldn’t have minded helping his parents if Paul was also earning, but now it just felt unfair.
Another reason I didn’t want to help was because of how his parents treated me.
They often said rude things, acting like I was forcing Paul to do all the housework.
One day, we were having a meal with them, and they started their usual complaints.
His mother put down her chopsticks and said, “Jennifer, you’re making Paul do all the chores. Poor thing. Do you really think that’s fair?”
Then his father added, “Paul told us you’re not good at housework. As his wife, shouldn’t you try harder to get better at it?”
Their words made me feel humiliated and angry.
I didn’t know what Paul had told his parents, but it was obvious they thought I was the bad one.
“That’s not true. Paul was the one who chose to be a stay-at-home husband,” I said.
But Paul leaned over and whispered, “Calm down. Just support me for now and say sorry. I’ll explain everything to them later.”
Even though he said that, I felt upset. He didn’t stand up for me when I needed him.
I kept asking him afterward if he had cleared up the misunderstanding, but he always avoided the topic.
“I haven’t had the chance to talk to them,” he’d say.
I felt rejected by his family and unsupported by my own husband.
I started to feel hopeless about our marriage and began thinking about divorce.
But then something unexpected happened.
I had been having stomach pain for a while, so I went to the hospital.
That’s when I found out I was pregnant.
I felt shocked but happy and rushed home to tell Paul.
“Paul, I’m pregnant,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, really? That’s great. I’m looking forward to it,” he replied calmly.
Almost too calmly.
His reaction confused me. There was no excitement, no hugs, nothing.
He just sat down on the couch and turned on the TV like I hadn’t said anything important.
The happiness I felt disappeared in seconds.
I felt heartbroken and disappointed. I quietly went to my room, tears rolling down my face.
His cold reaction made me wonder, had the love between us disappeared?
Even with a baby on the way, he didn’t seem happy.
I started thinking seriously about divorce. But now I was pregnant.
Could I really raise a child on my own?
Maybe things would change after the baby arrived. Maybe Paul and even his parents would act differently.
Hanging on to that tiny bit of hope, I decided to stay for now.
A few weeks later, I noticed a big charge on my credit card bill.
I checked my wallet, and the card was gone.
Had I lost it, or had someone stolen it? Or maybe it was used by a scammer?
Worried, I went to Paul.
“Hey, there’s a big charge on my credit card. I didn’t make it. Do you think I should call the card company?” I asked.
To my shock, he replied, “I used it. It’s not fraud. So, don’t cancel the card.”
After quitting his job and spending all his savings, he had secretly taken my card and used it without telling me, even though I was already giving him money for groceries and bills.
“Why would you take my card without asking? And what did you spend so much money on?” I asked.
“It’s my right to buy what I want. I just need some money I can use freely,” he said coldly.
I looked at him and said, “Then get a job and buy things with your own money.”
I snapped back at him.