Jane considered herself the luckiest woman on earth. She had a husband she adored, a long-awaited child, and a home of her own. From her earliest childhood, her mother had always told her:
"Once you get married, forget about your girlfriends and going out. You must devote every inch of yourself to your family."
And that was exactly what happened. Jane had always dreamed of finishing med school, moving to Europe, and opening her own private practice there. Her prospects had been incredibly bright.
A close family friend, Dr. Richard Miller, had lived in Boston for many years. He was a successful surgeon and a deeply kind, understanding man. His son, Steven, was Jane's age. After Jane's father passed away, Richard called often and visited whenever he could.
"Jane, honey, as soon as you graduate, there's a spot waiting for you at my clinic," he'd say. "Once you find your footing, I'll help you start your own practice."
But those dreams never came to fruition. During her junior year, Jane met Mark. He was the most radiant, positive person she had ever encountered.
"You're my North Star, my absolute joy," he would always say whenever he saw her.
It was true love. They were married shortly after, and nine months later, little Leo was born. Naturally, Jane couldn't keep up with her studies. She ended up dropping out and sinking into the depths of domestic life, leaving her friends and fun behind, effectively burying her dreams of the clinic.
I'll still have time. Life is long, she told herself. Once Leo is a bit older, I'll go back to work. I'll finish my degree on the side, and we'll all move to the East Coast together.
Textbooks were replaced by diapers. Leo was a fussy baby, and Jane was perpetually sleep-deprived. her life became a blur of the kitchen, the crib, and grocery runs. She didn't have a single second to herself.
It's okay. I'm strong. My mom did it, and so can I. Mark needs his rest; he's the one working and bringing in the money. I can handle this.
Every time the baby woke up in the middle of the night, Jane would rush to him, terrified of disturbing her husband's sleep. Mark himself had made it clear more than once that he wanted nothing to do with the "household chaos."
"Quiet him down. I'm exhausted from work, and I have an early start tomorrow. Deal with the kid."
So Jane dealt with it. She was a perfect mother and a meticulous housewife. Despite how busy she was, she managed to keep the house spotless and dinner on the table. She was a dream of a wife.
"Can I book you an appointment at the salon?" her friends would ask. "You really should change up your hair, maybe get some highlights."
"No, I couldn't! I don't have the time," Jane would reply, looking at them with a hint of envy. They would just shrug, unable to relate.
"Look, you need to take care of yourself, or Mark might start looking elsewhere."
"Don't be ridiculous! He loves me and Leo. We're doing great. He's just working so hard and getting worn out."
After a few hurried words with her friends, Jane would head back to her standard route: the supermarket, the mudroom, the kitchen, the nursery. Day after day, the cycle repeated.
***
As Leo grew, Mark grew distant. He started staying late at the office more often, and on Fridays, he'd go to the pub with his buddies for "a few rounds to blow off steam."
Well, he's working. He's stressed. He needs to unwind, Jane rationalized.
One day, she fell seriously ill. She came home from the store and felt the world start to spin. She barely managed to get seven-month-old Leo out of his stroller before her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the sofa. Her head was throbbing, and her joints ached. She definitely had a fever.
I'll just close my eyes for a second. Just one minute. I'll rest, then I'll start dinner. I just need to lie down for a tiny bit.
The moment she closed her eyes, she fell into a deep, heavy sleep. She was jolted awake by her husband's harsh voice.
"Get up, lazybones. What are you doing sprawled out like this? I get home from work starving and there isn't a crumb in the house. Stop lounging around and make something to eat."
"Hey, honey... I just laid down for a second. I don't feel well. I think I have a fever."
"Really? Sounds like you're faking it to me. Get up right now and feed me. I'm dying of hunger."
Jane made a desperate attempt to stand, but a fresh wave of dizziness sent her crashing back onto the pillows.
"In a minute, sweetheart... I just need to lie here a little longer." Jane felt a surge of resentment and exhaustion; tears pricked her eyes.
"Unbelievable. I work like a dog all day, and you can't even lift your backside off the couch? I'm so over this. I'm going to go grab a burger with the guys."
Mark grabbed his jacket and stormed out, slamming the door so hard that a piece of old crown molding fell to the floor. They had never gotten around to fixing up the place. Either there was no money, or Mark "couldn't find the time" because he was too tired from work.
"Mark, wait... where are you going?" Jane whispered. Not long ago, he had smiled so sweetly. He had called her his North Star.
The phone rang.
"Hello to the happy mother and wife!" It was Jane's mother, Margaret. She lived a few towns over and didn't visit often. "I decided to give you a surprise. I'm at a friend's house right now—we're having coffee and catching up—and I'm going to drop by right after. Is Mark home?"
In response, Jane simply broke down in sobs.
"I'm on my way."
"Okay, Mom."
***
Margaret arrived forty minutes later.
"I knew something was wrong immediately. I hopped in a cab and came straight over. How are you, sweetie?"
Jane sat up, hugged her son who was crawling on the floor, and started crying all over again.
"This isn't the 'happily ever after' I imagined."
"What happened?"
"Mom, I did everything you told me to. I gave up school, my friends, everything. My whole life has been about this family."
"Oh, my poor girl. Look what he's turned you into." Margaret sat down and pulled both her daughter and grandson into an embrace.
"Mom, I did everything for him. I gave it my all. But the second I get sick, he just runs away."
"Where's he going to go? He'll be back."
"Mom, I can't do this anymore. I'm exhausted. I'm burnt out. I'm not a servant, I'm a woman. And he doesn't care. I don't understand why he treats me like this. I don't deserve it."
"Now, stop that crying. It'll all work itself out. You'll see, he'll come home, you'll make up, and everything will be fine. He's a hard worker. He provides for the family. Just calm down. I put up with your father in my day, and you'll put up with Mark. You have a child. Do it for Leo."
"I don't know, Mom. I'm just so tired."
"Then rest. I'll run out and get you some medicine, make you some tea, and you'll be good as new."
Jane lay back down, handing Leo over to her mother's capable hands.
"Watch him for me?"
"Of course. You rest. I'll look after him and feed him. It's all going to be okay. You'll see."
***
Margaret stayed the night. True to her word, she took care of the tea, fed Leo, and made up a spot for herself on the small daybed.
"Goodnight, honey."
"Goodnight," Jane said softly, glancing at the clock. It was 1:00 AM, and Mark still wasn't home. What if something happened? She tossed and turned for another hour before finally drifting off.
Mark never made it home that night. Early Saturday morning, Jane woke up to the sound of a key fumbling in the lock. She got out of bed, went to the door, and listened. Someone was struggling with the handle.
"Hey! Whoever you are, go away! I'm calling the cops!"
"It's me. Open up. Did you change the locks or something?"
Jane opened the door, and Mark practically stumbled inside. His shirt was buttoned wrong, his tie was stuffed into a pocket, and on his once-pristine white collar, there was a clear, unmistakable smear of red lipstick.
"Good God, Mark. You're wasted."
Her heavily intoxicated husband squinted at her.
"Yeah, I'm drunk. So? Am I not allowed to relax?"
"I can see exactly how you 'relaxed,'" Jane said, pointing to the lipstick stain. Mark violently swatted her hand away.
"Don't touch me. I'm tired, and I'm going to sleep."
Swaying and stumbling, Mark moved toward the bedroom. On his way, he bumped into the daybed where Margaret was sleeping. She sat up and stared at her drunken son-in-law.
"Oh. Hey, Mom. Pardon me."
Ignoring Margaret's look of disbelief, Mark paraded into the bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed fully clothed and began to snore loudly.
"Has he been drinking like this for long?" The sleep was gone from Margaret's eyes.
"No. But he goes to the bar every Friday with his friends."
"The poor thing. He's probably just stressed at work. He needs an outlet."
"Unbelievable."
"It's fine, Jane. He'll sleep it off, and everything will be back to normal."
"He'll sleep it off, sure. But I doubt things will ever be 'normal' again."
The apartment fell silent again. Jane found her husband's phone and picked it up.
Who were you with?
She had always trusted Mark. She'd never snooped through his phone or checked his pockets. But that lipstick had caught her completely off guard.
Scrolling through the photos, Jane saw her husband with his arms around his friends, posing outside a bar.
And who is this?
There were about ten shots featuring a busty blonde. First, she was sitting on Mark's lap at the bar. A few photos later, she was posing provocatively on the white sheets of a hotel bed.
"Oh, God." Jane sat on the edge of the bed, feeling sick.
***
A few hours later, Margaret packed her bags and left, citing some urgent business she had to finish back home.
Mark slept almost the entire day. During that time, Jane cleaned the apartment, made lunch, took the baby for a walk, and started the laundry.
"Hey, Jane! Bring me some Gatorade and an Advil. I feel like I got hit by a truck. I'm dying over here."
Jane silently followed his request.
What happened to us? How did we get to this point? The questions raced through her mind.
"What are you staring at? So we went out and had some fun last night. I don't want to hear it. Just bring me something to eat."
Where did my sweet, smiling husband go? How did he turn into this monster?
"I said stop gawking at me. Get the food."
Jane set a plate down, poured some soup, and walked out of the kitchen. The phone rang. Mark bolted from the table, snatched his phone, and pressed it nervously to his ear. The caller was a woman listed as "Laurie."
"It's work," he lied, closing the door and dropping his voice to a whisper.
"Yeah, right."
Without another word, Jane pulled her father's old suitcase out of the closet. She quickly packed some of Leo's things and her own, got dressed, put the baby in the stroller, and walked out of the apartment.
"Tell Laurie I said hi."
"Hey, where do you think you're going?"
"I'm staying at my mom's. Have a nice life."
"Whatever. Go ahead. You can't survive without me anyway. You'll be crawling back tomorrow begging for a place to stay."
Jane didn't answer. She stared at the floor of the elevator as it descended. A taxi was already waiting for her. She moved in with her mother.
***
Several months passed. Mark made a few attempts to get his "runaway wife" back. He especially enjoyed threatening and belittling her whenever he was drunk. At first, it broke her heart. Any hope that her cheating husband would come to his senses—or at least apologize—vanished after the first three calls.
"Don't mind him. He's an idiot," her mother would say. "When he grows up, then we'll talk to him."
"No, Mom. He's not going to grow up. And I don't care anymore. He makes my skin crawl. I don't want to see him or hear from him."
The phone interrupted Jane's thoughts.
"It's for you. Steven."
"Who?"
"Steven. Remember? Richard's son. He's in town from Boston."
"Oh, Mom... I'm not in the mood for any Stevens."
"Hey, Jane! I haven't heard your voice in forever. I'm just passing through and I'd love to see you."
"Hi. I don't know, Steven. I've got a lot going on. I have to feed Leo."
"That's your son? That's fine. I'll wait as long as you need. But we absolutely have to catch up. How about two o'clock? That cafe near your house—it's still there, I checked earlier."
"Say yes. I'll take care of Leo," her mother whispered.
"Okay. I'll be there at two."
"He's a good man," Margaret said as she hung up the phone.
"Mom, don't start. I'm still married, in case you forgot."
"That's just paperwork. You don't need a husband like that. But Steven—he's different. He was married too. They're divorced now; no kids. He's got a great career, connections... and Richard thinks the world of you."
"I know, Mom. But I'm not looking for anything new. I haven't even been on a date in years."
"Don't worry, honey. I'm calling Natalie right now. She'll have you looking like a million bucks."
***
Jane was as nervous as a schoolgirl before the meeting. She spent the whole day in a haze. True to her word, Natalie worked her magic, fixing Jane's hair and applying perfect makeup. Feeling empowered by her new look, Jane headed to the cafe.
"Good Lord, Jane. You look..." Steven stared at her.
"I look what?"
"Stunning. You know, my dad and I talked about you all the time. You've grown into such a beautiful woman. You look like a queen. A dream."
"I don't know about that."
"I heard about the marriage. I'm so sorry."
"You were married too."
"We split up. Long story. But listen, I'm so happy to see you. You have no idea. Now that I've found you, I'm not letting you go again."
"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet."
***
A year passed. Jane and Leo moved to the East Coast. Steven convinced her to go back to medical school. In between classes, she helped her new husband at the office, built a new life, and was simply a beautiful, happy woman who finally felt loved, needed, and wanted again.
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