I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along.Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
My Husband Yelled at Me Because the Sounds of Me Cleaning Distracted Him from Work – And Then I Saw What This ‘Work’ Really Was
When I married my husband, I thought we both wanted the same things. I carried the whole household, thinking I was supporting him in whatever work he did from his home office until I discovered what the “work” actually was.
For the past three years, I’d been married to Jake, a man who called himself “the busiest man on Earth.” That’s how he justified locking himself away in his home office for hours on end. But one day I became privy to his “work,” and everything changed between us.
A man working | Source: Midjourney
Jake often spoke of “building our future,” a phrase he used so often it might as well have been his motto. I believed him. I wanted to. Isn’t that what love is? Supporting your partner, even when it’s hard?
To ease his stress, I took on all the other work. I raised our two children, managed the house, and even worked part-time to help stretch our tight budget. But lately, everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers—our finances, my sanity, and, most painfully, my trust in Jake.
An exhausted woman | Source: Midjourney
Although our bills were always late and the struggle was constant, I trusted him when he promised that he was “so close” to a breakthrough. He spent most of his days locked in his bare “office,” saying he was in “important meetings” or “crunching numbers.”
I was forced to adjust our whole lives to support him, including keeping the children as quiet as possible and timing my chores to avoid disturbing him. Our days followed a predictable pattern.
A woman keeping her children busy | Source: Midjourney
Jake would wake up early, scarf down breakfast with a quick “Got a big meeting today,” and then disappear into his so-called “war room.” He called it that as if he were strategizing for a global takeover. But for all his ambition, our bills remained overdue.
But yesterday was different, and things changed drastically from that point onward…
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Wednesday, the kind of day that dragged on forever. The kids were out of school, which meant extra chaos because they became restless. Tyler, my youngest, kept running circles around the dining table with the dog barking in gleeful harmony.
My older daughter, Mia, was practicing her cartwheels in the living room. All the while, I scrubbed the kitchen counters, trying to keep some semblance of order while also making an effort to be as quiet as possible.
A woman cleaning | Source: Midjourney
“Keep it down!” I hissed at Tyler as he whooshed past me. “Daddy’s working.”
“But Mommy,” he whined, clutching the dog’s collar, “Scruffy wants to play!”
I sighed. I didn’t have it in me to argue. Jake had locked himself in his office hours ago. He’d reminded us at breakfast, “I’ve got a critical meeting today. Zero interruptions.” I nodded, like always, though the words stung. Zero interruptions had become our family’s unofficial rule.
A man giving instructions | Source: Midjourney
As I wiped down the stove, my mind wandered. When was the last time Jake and I really talked? Not about bills or the kids, but about us? About anything real? I shook off the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Then it happened.
When Tyler ran through chasing the dog, he frightened me and the frying pan slipped from my hand, clanging against the tile floor with a sound so loud it made Mia scream and my son laugh.
“Oops!” Tyler giggled, his hands flying to his mouth.
A boy laughing | Source: Midjourney
The next moment, Jake burst out of his office, his face red and eyes blazing! “Can YOU not keep it down for one single minute?!” he roared, startling the kids into silence. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is during a work meeting?”
I froze, clutching the counter for support. “Jake, I—”
He cut me off, his voice dripping with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m in there busting my ass, and you can’t even manage to keep things quiet!”
A man shouting | Source: Midjourney
The kids were staring at us, wide-eyed and silent. Tyler clung to Scruffy’s fur as if the dog could shield him from the tension. I opened my mouth to apologize, but then I heard it, a woman’s voice. Soft, playful, and utterly out of place in our home.
I turned toward the office door, my stomach tightening. “Jake,” I said slowly, “who’s in there?”
His face turned from anger to panic in an instant. “It’s just a client,” he stammered, blocking the doorway. “Stay out of it.”
An upset and defensive man | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t buying it! My gut twisted with suspicion as I pushed past him and stepped into the room.
The sight before me was surreal! The computer screen displayed a bright, cartoonish online game. In the corner of the screen was a video call window, and inside it was a bubbly, animated avatar labeled “SUZYLOVELY88.” The avatar giggled as if this were the funniest thing in the world.
“What is this?” My voice came out shaky but firm.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Jake’s panic morphed into indignation. “It’s my hobby,” he said, puffing out his chest like he always did when cornered. “You’re always so boring! I need an escape! Suzy gets me. She’s fun to talk to, unlike you.”
I felt like I’d been slapped!
“Your hobby?” I repeated, my voice rising. “You’ve been locking yourself in here, pretending to work, while I’ve been breaking my back to keep this family afloat? And for what? To talk to some stranger online?!”
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“She’s not just some stranger!” Jake snapped, his face flushed. “She actually listens to me, which is more than I can say for you.”
I blinked, stunned into silence. The kids peeked around the corner, their curious eyes darting between us. I gestured for them to go to their rooms, and thankfully, they obeyed.
Turning back to Jake, I felt my anger boil over. “Do you hear yourself?” I said, my voice trembling with emotion.
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve sacrificed everything for you—for us! And you’ve been sitting here, wasting time on this… this nonsense?”
Jake scoffed, his bravado crumbling. “Maybe if you weren’t so naggy and exhausted all the time, I wouldn’t need this.”
Tears streamed down my face, but I didn’t care. Getting angry again, he added, “You know what? I’m done! I’m going to Suzy! She actually makes me happy!”
He stormed out of the office, grabbed a duffel bag from the bedroom closet, and started stuffing in clothes without looking at me. I followed him, trying to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen. And just like that, he was gone.
An upset man leaving his home | Source: Midjourney
The next day passed in a blur. I vacillated between anger, heartbreak, and an odd sense of relief. The house felt quieter, not just physically but emotionally. The kids kept asking when Daddy was coming home, and I gave them the same answer each time: “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
On the second day, Jake’s mother called. I hadn’t expected it, and the desperation in her voice caught me off guard.
“Sweetie,” she began, “I know you’re upset, but I need to tell you something.”
A woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“What is it?” I asked, bracing myself.
Her voice quivered as she explained. “Jake drove hours to meet Suzy. But… she wasn’t who he thought she was.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean?”
“Suzy,” she continued, “isn’t a woman. He’s a middle-aged man with a beard. He’s been catfishing Jake for months and even convinced him to send money for ‘plane tickets.’ My son’s devastated!”
An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
The absurdity of it hit me like a wave, and before I could stop myself, I burst into laughter! Real, deep, uncontrollable laughter. It felt good, like releasing years of pent-up frustration.
“So, all along he really wasn’t working?” I asked curiously.
“No, sweetie, he played video games for some money but wasn’t making much. Whatever little he got, some of it he sent to this Suzy person. Please,” his mom pleaded. “He’s humiliated. He wants to come home.”
A desperate woman | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, my laughter fading. “No,” I said firmly. “Jake made his choices. I’ve spent too long putting myself last. I’m not doing it anymore.”
When Jake tried calling to ask to come back, I told him I wanted a divorce and that I was taking everything. I offered to let him keep his laptop. “Maybe you’ll find a better ‘Suzy’ next time.”
Not having much to his name and having cheated online, my husband couldn’t fight me much, and I got everything, including the kids.
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
In the weeks that followed, I began rebuilding my life. I found a full-time job and enrolled the kids in daycare. It was scary, but every step I took felt like a step toward freedom. The weight of carrying Jake’s burdens was gone, and I felt lighter than I had in years!
One night, as I tucked Tyler into bed, he looked up at me with big, curious eyes. “Mommy,” he whispered, “are we gonna be okay?”
I smiled, brushing his hair back gently. “Yes, sweetheart,” I said with a confidence I hadn’t felt in years. “We’re going to be more than okay.”
And for the first time, I truly believed it.
A content woman and her son | Source: Midjourney
Unfortunately, Jake’s wife isn’t the only woman who has had to deal with a secretive husband, but in the following story, the truth is something worse and completely unexpected. It changes the woman’s life for the better.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Leave a Reply