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I barely glanced up, keeping my tone polite but distant. “I’m fine, Chad. Just busy with the house, like you wanted.”
I shrugged, setting the table with precision. “I’m just doing what you asked, Chad.”
He nodded, but I could see the confusion in his eyes. This was what he wanted, right? A spotless house, perfect meals, perfect wife. But I wasn’t giving him my usual warmth, and it was getting under his skin.
As the days went on, I kept up the performance. Every task was flawless, but our relationship? It was as cold and mechanical as a robot’s routine. I knew Chad felt the gap growing, but he didn’t know how to bridge it. And I wasn’t going to help him.
Then came the day I’d been building toward. After a perfectly silent dinner, I cleared the plates and turned to him with a bright smile. “Chad, we need to talk.”
He looked up, a nervous twitch in his smile. “What’s up?”
I sat across from him, sliding a neatly folded piece of paper across the table. “I’ve been thinking about this ‘perfect housewife’ thing. Sara really showed me how much work it takes to run a house like this. It’s a full-time job.”
Chad frowned, unsure where this was headed. “Okay?”
“So, I’ve decided,” I said cheerfully. “I’m going to quit my job and focus on this full-time.”
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