I Woke up to My Husband Saying: ‘Hush, She’s Sleeping’ — Story of the Day

I work at a bank as a project manager and our latest project has been the hardest of all. I often came home late and sometimes, I would work on the weekends.

But work is just a slice of my busy life. I have a house and a husband to take care of, and my lovely hubby isn’t as lovely as he used to be. He doesn’t help me with house chores, he doesn’t cook, he barely goes food shopping. I’m responsible for almost everything.

Aiden didn’t seem to hear me when I told him about my struggles. We talked about my new project and how overwhelmed with work I was. One day, I arrived home at 9 pm and the first thing I heard was: “Where have you been?”

“I had a lot of work today, I told you I’d come home late…”

“You didn’t tell me!”

“Yeah, I did. Couple of times. It’s the project I’m working on…”

Aiden interrupted me. “Whatever, Claire. I’m hungry. Will you prepare dinner or not?” he said while watching a soccer game.

“I don’t think there’s much food left… We need to buy some.”

“I’ll wait here, you can go to the store,” he said without taking his eyes away from the TV. So I grabbed my wallet and left.

On the way to the shop, I got lost in my own thoughts. Aiden used to be kind and gentle; now he’s this demanding man who’s often dissatisfied. I have to walk on eggshells when communicating with him.

“Why did you take so long? I’m starving!” said Aiden when I arrived home. I ran to the kitchen to cook dinner. He ate silently and went back to the TV, leaving me with a dirty kitchen.

Can’t he even wash his own plate? I thought. I didn’t want to say anything because I was too tired to start a discussion. So, I cleaned everything and went to bed.

The following morning, I could barely stand on my own feet. I had a stuffy nose, a sore throat, and my head was blowing.

“You’re late… where’s breakfast?” Those were the first words I heard from Aiden instead of a “good morning.”

I pushed myself into a hot shower and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Aiden was ready to leave and said, “Never mind, you’re too slow. I’m gonna be late,” and slammed the door behind him.

I was feeling so bad that I had to call in sick. I made tea with honey and lemon and went back to bed. As I sat on the bed, I tried to think of when Aiden started to treat me so badly. He wasn’t always like this…

But then I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time Aiden helped me in any way or simply supported me with words. Even when he was wrong, he always managed to blame me. I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to voices coming from the hall. Is he back home? Why is he back? Maybe he forgot something?

“Get out, I think she’s home…” I heard Aiden whispering. He continued, “It won’t work today.” I got up, went to the door, and quietly opened it. I was stunned when I saw a beautiful brunette standing in the hall.

“Dear,” she said, “when will we meet then?”

“On the weekend. I’ll pick a fight with her and we can go on a trip for two days,” he said.

“That’s great!” she squealed and jumped into his arms.

“Shhh, please, be quiet…!”

I couldn’t believe my eyes so I went back to bed. It felt like a bad dream. They didn’t even hide! I should make that man learn a lesson.

I felt something shifting inside me. What am I doing? Why am I allowing myself to be treated this way? A man who was supposed to love me and treat me well…

I had a plan. As soon as Aiden left the house, I suddenly felt better. I called someone to change the lock of our door. The apartment belonged to me.

Then I gathered all his belongings, packed them in luggages and cardboard boxes, and walked around the house to see if there was something else that belonged to him.

I took everything that belonged to the man and packed them — I didn’t want anything that was his in my apartment. I didn’t want any memory of him there or anything with his energy. I just wanted him to leave my life so I could move on.

I spent almost the whole day packing his stuff until he arrived home from work and I heard the doorbell ring. “What happened to the lock? Why don’t my keys don’t work?” he asked.

“You didn’t even greet me!” I remarked.

“What’s this?” Aiden said pointing at his stuff. “What’s going on, Claire?”

“This is where you leave, Aiden. I’m done with you. Take your stuff and go with your mistress to hell! I’m filing for divorce!”

Aiden looked at me as if he didn’t recognize the woman I became. “Who is she? Where is the quiet wife who at first glance did everything I wanted?” he must have thought.

“Aiden, I know everything. You don’t love me, you’re only using me. Go away and don’t return. I won’t forgive you!”

The man looked at me in disbelief. “Alright. I’m leaving, but you’ll regret every word you’re saying!” He stopped a cab, took his stuff, and left.

The next day, I filed for divorce, and a month later, it was official. Aiden could not believe what happened. He tried several times to talk to me, but I just refused to talk to him.

Since the day Aiden left my apartment, I felt different. I’m a new woman. Now I take care of myself, I love myself, and I don’t allow anyone to look down on me or disrespect me. I started therapy and my shrink is helping me heal all the wounds that abusive relationship left me.

What can we learn from this story?

1. It’s never too late to leave a toxic relationship. It took some time for Claire to recognize she was in an abusive and toxic relationship. Aiden cheating on her was the last straw and she decided to walk away.
2. Always put yourself first. Claire prioritized her marriage and a husband who was abusive to her. When they divorced, she decided to love herself and make herself a priority in her life.

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about an evil stepmother who threw out a photo of a girl’s late mother and her father said nothing.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.