Chapter 3

I set the gift boxes down outside the threshold and turned to walk down the stairs.

A second later, the front door jerked open.

Julian’s voice carried a sharp edge of annoyance. "What are you throwing a fit for now? You agreed to compete for the role. Are you forfeiting already?"

His mother stepped up behind him, a flicker of embarrassment washing over her face.

"Oh, Clarissa, dear... I didn't realize you were out here. I thought you..."

I looked at Julian's cold, detached expression and forced a small smile. "I'm not competing, Julian. It's pointless."

He frowned and reached out to grab my wrist, but I stepped out of reach.

"I didn't realize you were the type to run away when things get tough, Clarissa.

"Comfort really does destroy a person's drive," he said, looking down his nose at me. "In that regard, Chloe is far superior to you.

"She built her life in this city from scratch without ever complaining.

"Meanwhile, as a homemaker, you've completely lost your edge and your competitive spirit. My decision is clear…

"Replacing you with Chloe is the optimal solution for this partnership."

The optimal solution.

He couldn't stop praising independent, resilient Chloe.

Yet he completely forgot that two years ago, he was the one who destroyed my career.

I had a degree in management and worked as a dedicated case manager.

The pay wasn't high, but the work was meaningful, even if it meant coming home late at night.

When we were dating, Julian swore he would support my ambitions no matter what.

Then we got married.

He wrote a report in his very first end-of-year review.

[Spouse’s frequent late arrivals result in household tasks remaining under 70% completion.]

[Recommendation: Spouse must re-evaluate career choices and eliminate negative impacts on the home environment.]

Back then, I stared at him in disbelief. "You want me to quit my job?"

He sighed gently. "I just want you to focus more on our home..."

We had a bitter fight that night.

In the end, I surrendered.

I loved him so much that giving up my career felt like a price worth paying.

He revised my review score right after.

[100/100. Spouse demonstrates excellent adaptability and execution in role transition.]

He kissed my forehead softly. "Don't worry, Clarissa. You'll always be my perfect 100-point wife."

And then?

By year two, my score dropped to 70.

Now, it was 58.

A perfect wife. What an absolute joke.

"Julian," I whispered, "when did you turn into this?"

His expression didn't shift. "People change, Clarissa.

"Let's get a divorce. I don't need a partner who just stands still."

I looked at the thick files sitting on the table nearby, feeling an overwhelming wave of exhaustion.

"Fine," I said softly.

I didn't need a husband who turned every human emotion into a calculated metric, either.