The Ideal Husband? When a Single Remark Crumbles a Marriage of Indifference
Youre the perfect husband, Romain: how one offhand comment tore down a partnership built on neglect
Emily arrived home, arms loaded with two heavy shopping bags. No sooner had she stepped through the door that a voice called out from the living room:
Are you finally here? Is it already six?
Its seven, she replied, exhausted, heading toward the kitchen.
Three tea cups scattered on the table hinted at a recent visit. Her motherinlaw had dropped by, likely with her sister Agathe. Emily wasnt surprised; it had become routineunannounced appearances, criticisms of her unfeminine manners, disapproving looks, and the lingering sense of an intruder in her home.
Where were you all this time? Im starving, Romain said without looking away from his computer.
I stopped at the supermarket. To feed Her Majesty, she retorted sarcastically. Anyway, we need to talk.
He ignored the jab. Emily turned her chair toward him and, with steady composure, announced:
We have to get a divorce.
Romain lifted his eyes, bewildered:
What? Why?
Because I cant take it any longer.
Emily, why dont you make dinner first? We can discuss it afterwards. Im dying of hunger.
No. Were talking now.
Listen, you know I dont drink, I dont go out, I dont hang around anywhere. I stay home, I work. I earn enough. I never ask you for anything. What are you missing?
She burst into a bitter laugh:
You live in my flat, you dont pay rent or utilities thats on me. The groceries, the cleaning, the cooking still me. So whats the point of your money?
Um I bought a sweater. I downloaded an update for my game. I give a little to Mom and Aunt Agathe now and then. Thats normal, right?
Sure, very normal. Except this morning, I asked you to hang the laundry and its still in the washer.
I was on a break
You know, switching tasks is a form of rest too.
But I dont know how. Mom and Agathe never let me touch the stove or the vacuum.
I get it. You cant do anything. Thats convenient, isnt it? Well, from today on, if youre hungry youll have to fend for yourself. Im not cooking anymore. Some friends invited me to a caféI declined at first, but Ill go after all. Good luck.
She stood, spread the laundry, pointed sharply at the kitchen and left. At the café, a glass of wine in hand, her phone buzzedher motherinlaws number. She silenced it and slammed the screen onto the table.
When she returned, Colette Michaux was waiting in the apartment.
Emily! What were you thinking? A divorce? Do you realize what a man you have? You wont find another like him! He doesnt drink, he doesnt cheat, he doesnt leave his socks everywhere! Women envy you!
Emily stared at her calmly:
You sound like youre bragging about a welltrained dog. He never does anything wrongthats all you list. But can you tell me anything he actually does for me?
He works.
I work too. In addition, I clean, wash, iron, cook, carry heavy bags, pay all the billsfor both of us. And what does he do?
He gives you presents! I know! I help him pick them out!
So thats why I got a foot basin for Christmas and a wool scarf for my birthday.
Maybe you were hoping for gold? her motherinlaw sneered.
A spa voucher or a weekend by the sea wouldnt have been refused. But noI got a scarf, contempt, and that endless I cant do it. Im done playing mother for him.
Hes just like that. Men in our family dont behave that way.
Exactly. You raised a man who expects everything to be served to him, and hes happy with that. Im not.
Cant you try something before ending it? Teach him
Sorry. I dont want to teach an adult man how to be a man. I tried for a year and a half. Not any more. Pack his things youll both leave wherever it suits you. Im not cruel, just exhausted.
Half an hour later a taxi pulled up in front of the building.
