**The Ideal Husband? How One Sentence Destroyed a Marriage Built on Indifference**
*»Youre the perfect husband, Robert.»* Those words shattered a marriage held together by nothing but apathy.
Emily walked through the front door, arms weighed down by two heavy shopping bags. Before she could even set them down, a voice called from the living room:
*»Finally back? Its already six?»*
*»Its seven,»* she replied wearily, heading straight to the kitchen.
Three teacups sat on the tableevidence of yet another unannounced visit from her mother-in-law, Margaret, likely accompanied by her sister, Beatrice. Emily barely flinched. This had become the norm: sudden drop-ins, remarks about her *»unladylike»* habits, disapproving glances, and the lingering traces of outsiders in her own home.
*»Where were you all this time? Im starving,»* Robert said, eyes never leaving his laptop.
*»At the supermarket. Feeding His Majesty,»* she shot back. *»But never mind thatwe need to talk.»*
He ignored her. So she stepped closer, turned his chair to face her, and said calmly, *»Were getting a divorce.»*
Robert finally looked up, startled. *»What? Why?»*
*»Because Ive had enough.»*
*»Emily, just make dinner first. Well talk after. Im starving.»*
*»No. We talk now.»*
*»Look, you know meI dont drink, I dont go out, I dont mess around. I stay home, I work, I earn good money. I never ask you for anything. What more do you want?»*
She let out a bitter laugh. *»You live in my flat, you dont pay rent or billsthats on me. The shopping, the cleaning, the cookingstill me. So whats the point of your money?»*
*»Well I bought a jumper. Downloaded an update for my game. Gave a bit to Mum and Aunt Beatrice now and then. Thats normal, isnt it?»*
*»Oh, perfectly normal. Except this morning, I asked you to hang up the washing. Its still in the machine.»*
*»I was on a break»*
*»Switching tasks *is* a break.»*
*»But I dont know how. Mum and Beatrice never let me near the cooker or the hoover.»*
*»Right. You *dont know how.* Very convenient. Well, starting today, if youre hungry, figure it out. Im not cooking. My mates invited me for coffeeId said no, but now Im going. Good luck.»*
She left, hung the laundry, pointed sharply at the kitchen, and walked out. At the café, wine in hand, her phone lit upMargarets number. She silenced it and flipped the screen face-down.
When she returned, Margaret was waiting in the flat.
*»Emily! Whats gotten into you?! Divorce?! Do you realise the man youve got?! You wont find another like him! He doesnt drink, doesnt cheat, doesnt leave his socks lying about! Women envy you!»*
Emily stared back calmly. *»You sound like youre praising a well-trained dog. He doesnt do anything *wrong*thats all youve listed. But can you name one thing he does *right*? For *me*?»*
*»He works.»*
*»So do I. Except I also clean, wash, iron, cook, haul heavy bags, pay for everythingfor *both* of us. And what does he do?»*
*»He buys you gifts! I help him pick them!»*
*»Ah, so *thats* why I got a foot spa for Christmas and a woolly scarf for my birthday.»*
*»What, you want gold now?»* Margaret sneered.
*»A spa voucher or a weekend at the seaside wouldve been nice. But no. I get a scarf. And contempt. And the endless *I dont know how.* Im done playing mum to him.»*
*»Thats just how he is. In our family, men dont do those things.»*
*»Exactly. You raised a man who expects to be waited on. And hes fine with that. Im not.»*
*»Couldnt you at least try before divorcing? Teach him»*
*»Sorry. Ive no interest in teaching a grown man how to be an adult. I tried. For a year and a half. Not anymore. Pack his thingsyou can take him wherever suits you. Im not cruel. Just exhausted.»*
Half an hour later, a taxi idled outside the building.
