I met Gregor later in life, well into my forties, and honestly, I wasn’t actively searching for a serious relationship at that stage. However, from our very first encounter, there was an undeniable spark, a connection that drew us together effortlessly. We just clicked. Our initial year of marriage felt like an extended honeymoon phase; everything was sunshine and roses, filled with shared laughter, romantic dates, and a genuine sense of happiness. It seemed as though I had finally found my perfect partner, someone who truly understood and appreciated me for who I was. We built a comfortable life together, filled with dreams of a shared future, never imagining the storm that was brewing on the horizon. Little did I know that this seemingly idyllic existence was about to be shattered, revealing a side of Gregor that I had never seen before, a side that would leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about him and our relationship.
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Then, unexpectedly, the rug was pulled out from under me. My company, where I had dedicated years of my career, suddenly declared bankruptcy. It was a massive blow, not just financially but also emotionally. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. I remember feeling this overwhelming sense of dread wash over me as I realized the implications of what had just happened. Not only was I now unemployed, but I was also facing the daunting task of rebuilding my career from scratch, all while grappling with the shame and embarrassment of having lost my job. Gathering my courage, I broke the news to Gregor, hoping for his support and understanding during this difficult time. However, his reaction was far from what I had anticipated. Instead of offering words of comfort or reassurance, he met my vulnerability with annoyance and resentment.
“What? Now I’m the breadwinner?” he retorted, his voice dripping with dissatisfaction. I was shocked. His words felt like a slap in the face, completely invalidating my feelings and reducing my worth to mere financial contribution. Stunned and hurt, I quickly realized that I couldn’t rely on him for emotional support during this crisis. Determined to prove my worth and ease the financial burden on our household, I immediately began searching for a new job. I swallowed my pride and applied for anything and everything that came my way, regardless of whether it aligned with my career aspirations or previous experience. Eventually, I landed a job as a cleaner, a far cry from my previous professional role, but it was a means to an end.
I took it with a grateful heart, knowing that every penny I earned would help us stay afloat during this challenging period. I worked tirelessly, balancing long hours and physically demanding tasks, all while trying to maintain a positive attitude and salvage what was left of our relationship. I poured my heart and soul into my work, determined to prove to Gregor (and to myself) that I was not a burden, that I was capable of contributing and making a difference, even in the face of adversity. Yet, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Gregor’s resentment towards me was growing, casting a dark shadow over our marriage.
Fast forward a few years to Gregor’s 45th birthday. He decided to throw a lavish party at a fancy restaurant, inviting all his friends, family, and colleagues. The atmosphere was festive, filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. I tried my best to put on a smile and participate in the celebrations, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had been lingering within me for so long. As the evening progressed, Gregor’s sister, known for her sharp tongue and judgmental nature, raised her glass to make a toast. She spoke about how lucky Gregor was to have me in his life, praising my loyalty, dedication, and unwavering support. For a brief moment, I felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that perhaps Gregor’s family finally recognized my worth.
However, my hope was quickly dashed when Gregor stood up to respond to his sister’s toast. He began by acknowledging how fortunate he was, but then his tone took a sinister turn. With a smirk on his face, he said, “Oh, I know I’m lucky, but she’s basically my dependent now. **I’D HAVE KICKED HER OUT IF SHE WASN’T SO OBEDIENT.** It’s just a pity I invested all that money in her.” The room fell silent. I felt my face turn crimson with embarrassment and anger. His words were like a dagger to my heart, revealing the cruel and manipulative nature that he had been hiding beneath a veneer of charm. He was laughing, initially.
But only for the first three minutes, because that’s when I calmly walked to the bar and purchased the most expensive bottle of wine and poured it over his head. Then I calmly walked out. I filed for divorce the next day.
