While I Was Hospitalized, My Husband Divorced Me and Married Another Woman β He Didnβt Know I Was Making $130K a Year
My name is Caitlyn. Iβm 42 years old, and I live in the suburbs of Minneapolis with my husband, Brandon. On paper, Iβm a full-time housewife. What few people know is that behind that quiet facade, Iβm the CEO of a medical equipment distribution company that brings in millions of dollars in revenue each year. My salary is around $145,000 a year, but Brandon has never had a clue.
We met at a friendβs gathering when I had just turned 30. Back then, Brandon was a warm, attentive man. I used to think if I could spend my life with someone like that, it would be the greatest blessing. We got married after nearly a year. At first, I truly believed I had chosen the right person. But that seemingly lasting happiness began to fade when Brandon started showing his true self.
He began making excuses not to change jobs, even though his current salary barely covered basic expenses. When I gently offered suggestions, he brushed them off. βDonβt try to make me live by your standards,β heβd say. βIβm not your employee.β
When my company had an opening in the administrative department, a role with a salary more than double what he was making, Brandon frowned. βYou think Iβm so useless I need my wife to get me a job? Donβt meddle in my business.β
His stubbornness baffled me. But I kept trying to endure. I thought as long as I made enough money to keep life stable, everything would work out. Every month, I regularly deposited $1,400 into Brandonβs account as a βliving allowance.β He would burn through it in less than two weeks, then text me complaints about food prices, gas prices, how life was stressful. I stayed silent, not because I didnβt know he was spending the money on sneaker collections or online games, but because I was too exhausted to argue.
What hurt me wasnβt the money; it was his growing indifference. He never once asked if I was tired after a long day, never noticed when I stayed up late answering emails or had to fly to two different cities in one week. In Brandonβs eyes, I was just a woman living off the money he provided, and he was the one working hard to keep this home together.
I remember one time my mother came over to help tidy the house while I was in online meetings all morning. As soon as Brandon got home, he tossed his keys on the table and muttered, βAnother stranger in the house again. I need my peace and quiet.β
I stood up, took a deep breath, and spoke through clenched anger. βSheβs not a stranger. She came here to help us, not to be disrespected like that.β
Brandon just shrugged. βThatβs how you see it. I have a right to feel uncomfortable in my own house.β
That was the first time I felt a crack in our marriage that couldnβt be repaired. After that day, a strange silence fell between us. We still lived under the same roof, but everything felt cold and forced.
Brendan became increasingly irritable. Heβd get mad over little things, like a towel not folded the way he liked. He blamed me when the coffee machine broke, even though he was the last one who used it. It was like I had become the scapegoat for every little frustration in his life.
One evening, I came back from a tense meeting. Brandon stood in the kitchen, holding up a shirt, and snapped, βThis shirt isnβt even ironed. Do you ever do anything right?β
I gave a hollow laugh. I used to be the woman running around pitching to major clients, negotiating multi-million-dollar deals. Now I was being asked if I knew how to use an iron. I said nothing. The more I talked, the more he twisted my words. I was starting to feel drained.
I remember once when I had the flu, running a high fever. Brandon didnβt even check on me. Instead of bringing me medicine, he just stood at the door and said, βHurry up and get better. I donβt have time to take care of you.β Those words sent a chill down my spine. That wasnβt something a husband should say. That was something a stranger would say. Watch: [in comment] – Made with AI