Entangled in the Maid's Desire

"Babe, I’ll be home a little late tomorrow afternoon. There’s an important guest from the office, and I have to join my boss to entertain them."

James Brown didn’t respond. His eyes remained glued to the laptop screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but he wasn’t really typing anything.

What was there to say, anyway? It wasn’t the first time Elisha Brown had come home late because of work. Honestly, he had lost count of how many times she had said those exact words.

Elisha, busy with her nighttime skincare routine, glanced over at her husband. He was sitting against the headboard, silent as a stone. That silence made her uneasy.

"Babe!" she turned to face him, frowning. "Why are you just sitting there? You’re okay with it, right?" Her tone was slightly more demanding now.

James let out a quiet snort. "And what exactly am I supposed to say? If I say no, it’s not like that would change anything. You never listen to me anyway."

Elisha blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. She knew where this was headed. If they kept going, it would turn into another argument.

"I still need your permission, babe. Just let me work with peace of mind. That’s all I’m asking." She adjusted her headband, then walked over to him. "I’m doing this for us too, you know."

James didn’t even glance at her. His focus remained on the laptop screen, though it was clear he wasn’t reading a thing. Her words stung—because, deep down, they reminded him of his own mistake months ago.

It was his idea, after all. He was the one who had encouraged her to get a job, to help out financially.

And now? Now she was soaring in her career, earning more than he ever had. Meanwhile, he was just a struggling freelance writer, still waiting for his book to take off.

Ironic, wasn’t it?

"Uh-huh. Thanks for your hard work," James muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Elisha sighed. "Come on, babe… don’t be like this." She climbed onto the bed, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. "We should—"

"Yeah, honey. Of course. I support everything you do." James gave in—again. It happened every time. After nearly eight years of marriage, he had learned one thing: some battles just weren’t worth fighting.

"Thank you, babe! I love you so much," Elisha beamed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

"Alright, now go to sleep."

"You…"

"I just need to finish this deadline first."

Elisha simply nodded and made herself comfortable in bed. Meanwhile, James turned back to his laptop, the glow of the screen keeping him company in the cold night. They lay there, back to back, lost in their own worlds.

*

"Babe! The new maid is arriving today."

James, halfway through his breakfast, raised a brow. "Oh yeah? What time?" Across the table, Elisha was busy feeding their daughter while taking bites of her own meal.

"No idea. The agency didn’t give an exact time." Elisha said while taking a bites of her own meal into her mouth.

"Alright."

"Just make sure to interview her properly, okay? Let her know the house rules."

"Got it."

"And don’t forget to pick up Betty today. She’s done at two."

James let out a small sigh. "Uh-huh. I know."

Elisha glanced at him, noticing the slight irritation in his tone, but chose to let it slide and smile through it. She had her hands full, packing Betty’s lunchbox while still trying to eat her own breakfast. Even with the morning rush, she never complained.

She turned to their seven-year-old girl, crouching down to hand her her lunch. "Here you go, sweetheart. Make sure you finish everything, okay?"

"Yes, Mama!" Betty grinned, taking the box eagerly.

"Alright, be good at school, okay? Listen to your papa, listen to your teacher, and—" Elisha, dressed sharply in a blouse and knee-length skirt, was mid-lecture when James cut in.

"Enough, El. She gets it."

She shot him a look. "I’m just making sure, babe. Right, Betty?" She ran a gentle hand through their daughter’s hair.

Betty grinned wide, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Yes, yes! I got it, Mama."

"Okay, mom’s heading to work now." Elisha pulled her into a quick hug, planting kisses on her forehead, cheek, and lips before finally letting her go.

Then she turned to James. "Babe, I’m heading to work." Like clockwork, she pressed a kiss to her forehead—her daily goodbye ritual.

James barely reacted. He just nodded, accepting it without a word or even give any response. He wasn’t in the mood. Not this morning. Maybe not for a while now.

As Elisha disappeared out the door, he let out a long, weary sigh. This was his routine now—watching her rush off to work while he handled everything at home.

Her energy, her endless fussing over Betty, the way she filled the morning with noise—it was something he’d grown used to. But that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh on him.

"Papa, let’s go!"

James, with his strong jaw, sharp nose, and athletic body, snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his daughter, forcing a smile. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s go.” He shut his laptop, scooped Betty from her chair.

Then he helped his daughter put on her bag before leading her outside to the car.

This was his life now—dropping Betty off at school, exchanging polite nods with the teachers, giving small smiles to the other parents.

It should’ve been Elisha’s role, but work had taken her elsewhere, and James had unwillingly stepped in to fill the gap.

He exhaled sharply, that same bitter thought creeping in again. "If I hadn’t lost my job, I wouldn’t be stuck doing this." The words tasted stale in his mouth, like something he had repeated far too many times.

He was sick of feeling like this—like a man without purpose. Like someone who had lost his footing in the world. And the pitying glances from others? That was the worst part.

But what choice did he have? Jobs weren’t exactly easy to come by in times like these. So he swallowed the frustration, squared his shoulders, and kept moving. Because what else could he do?

*

BRAAK!

About half an hour later, James was back home. Without wasting a second, he headed straight for the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he faced the pile of dirty breakfast dishes in the sink.

"Tsk." He sucked his teeth in frustration. "How the hell did I end up doing all this housework? Washing dishes, sweeping, mopping—ugh! This is ridiculous!"

He gripped the plate in his hands a little too tightly, the temptation to just smash it against the sink flaring up for a split second.

"This isn’t my job. This isn’t even my problem! This is a maid’s job! A woman’s job!"

His irritation only grew as he thought about Elisha’s words from earlier. "She promised there’d be a maid coming today! So where is she?!"

But no matter how much he grumbled, his hands kept moving—scrubbing, rinsing, stacking. Because at the end of the day, who else was going to do it?

The hours dragged on, and just as James was about to collapse onto the couch in sheer exhaustion, the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Then again.

His ears perked up. "Finally! That better be the maid."

Shaking off his frustration, he quickly made his way to the door, his steps picking up speed as relief washed over him. If the maid was finally here, that meant he could finally put all this nonsense behind him. With one deep breath, he swung the door open.

"Good afternoon, sir. Excuse me—"

When the door of his house opened, he was surprised by...