No more insults.
No more jokes about me being useless.
Household responsibilities would be shared, and I would have money of my own without having to beg for it.
And I needed time to see whether he could treat me with respect consistently, not just because he wanted his clean shirts back.
He nodded quietly.
On the thirtieth day, I returned home.
Not to resume my old life.
To see whether we could build a different one.
Robert had cleaned the house himself. On the refrigerator was a handwritten schedule dividing our chores.
I didn’t praise him for doing ordinary household work.
But I appreciated that he was finally taking responsibility.
That evening, he started preparing dinner while I sat in the living room reading a book.
When he asked how long the potatoes needed to cook, I answered without getting up.
He smiled.
Three months have passed.
Robert still works outside the home. I still do my share of the housework.
