“So, you want me to get up at 5 a.m., go to the gym, prepare gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook supper, and entertain your friends. I believe we should budget for all of it.”
His face became pale as he flipped over the pages. “$75,000 per year? You are quitting your job?”
I shrugged. “How else can I follow your plan? I can’t work and be a wonderful wife, right?”
He gazed at the document, astounded.
The figures, the folly of his own demands—it all hit him at once. His smugness vanished, replaced by the growing sense that he had badly messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stuttered, staring at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t want it to be like this. I just thought—”
“What did you think? Could I ‘upgrade’ myself like a project?” My voice was cool, but the pain behind it was genuine. “Jake, marriage is not about lists or procedures. It’s about respect. And if you ever attempt to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll have to pay a lot more than what’s on the paper.”
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I hadn’t realized how stupid that was. Steve made it seem reasonable, but I now realize it’s… it’s poisonous. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded and watched him closely. “Yes, you did. Have you honestly looked into Steve’s life? What makes you believe he has enough life experience to give you marital advice? Or anything else?”
The expression on his face when my comments struck home was priceless.
“You’re correct. And he couldn’t afford to live like this. He smacked the list with his hand. “He… has no concept what the expenses are or how degrading this is. Oh, Lisa, did I get carried away again?”
“Yes, but we will recover. Now, let us tear up that document and return to being equals.”
