A pensive woman wearing an orange t-shirt | Source: Midjourney
Every morning, like clockwork, I found a list taped to the fridge. There were groceries to buy, floors to mop, laundry to fold, and dinner to prepare.
“Roast lamb. Extra crispy roast potatoes.”
It was always written in bullet points, never questions. Just instructions and expectations that Aidan demanded be fulfilled. It was like I was a member of staff in his house. And slowly, painfully, that’s what I felt like. Like I was hired help without the paycheck or the thanks.
Like a stranger playing house.
A piece of paper taped to a fridge | Source: Midjourney
Once, I mentioned the idea of picking up some freelance work. Just something small, something creative, and something that was mine. I yearned for that sense of independence again. Aidan barely looked up from his laptop. He waved a hand dismissively, like I was a child tugging at a parent’s sleeve.
