A video of a 6’2” finance bro holding his 5’2” “work wife” while skiing in Aspen went viral on TikTok. At the time, I was still recovering from my C-section. My night nurse, Brenda, asked me, “Are you going to divorce him?” I shook my head. “He’s rich. I can’t bring myself to leave the money.” Then, I renewed her contract to keep taking care of my daughter, signed up for a luxury postpartum Pilates course, bought a $4,000 massage chair, got a facial, a fresh set of acrylics… and bought a condo in the building next door, paid in full, in my daughter’s name. Every cent came from my cheating husband, who was supposedly “on a business trip.” 1 A video of a tall, wealthy, handsome man carrying a petite woman down the slopes in Aspen blew up online. The comments section was going feral. “Where do I find a 6-foot-2 king to carry me like a backpack?” Someone replied, “That comes with the package. You have to bring your own.” My eyes were red and swollen as I scrolled through the comments. Most people were saying how envious they were of such a strong, romantic boyfriend. I gritted my teeth, tears streaming down my face, and commented under the video: “The man with the boyfriend energy is my husband.” “And right now, while I’m sitting at home recovering from childbirth, he’s carrying another woman down a mountain.” Within two hours, my comment was the top-rated one. Immediately after, I got a call from Jason. His voice was frantic. “Chloe, don’t overthink it. She’s just a colleague who came on the business trip.” “She said she didn’t know how to ski but wanted to experience it, so I just helped her out. That’s it!” “We really don’t have that kind of relationship, I swear!” I let out a cold laugh. “Right. You have no relationship. So why is she kissing your cheek in the video?” Jason’s explanation turned into word salad. “I… I don’t know! I was surprised too!” “She said she got carried away in the moment. Look… I can’t exactly go confront a young girl about something so small, can I?” “Besides, she’s the one who loses out in that situation, not me. If I make a big deal out of it, I look like a jerk who got a freebie and complained about it.” Okay, great. So, while I’m stuck at home with stitches and a newborn, he’s holding another woman, getting kissed, and apparently, he’s the one who scored a deal? What a bargain. His wife is suffering through postpartum recovery, and he’s living a romance novel. He must feel like he won the lottery. 2 I wanted to scream, but Brenda, our night nurse, walked over holding the baby. Lily was hungry. I had no choice but to hang up and feed her. I decided to shelf the issue until Jason got back from his "business trip." Right now, my priority was healing. The trip, originally scheduled for two weeks, dragged on for a month. By the time Jason dragged his Rimowa suitcase through the door, I was physically recovered enough to walk around. As soon as he walked in, he saw Brenda busy in the kitchen and me in the living room with the baby. He didn’t rush over to see his daughter. Instead, he walked quickly to me and lowered his voice. “Why is Brenda still here? I thought we only hired her for the first four weeks?” I pushed him away. “Yeah, I extended her contract.” It was laughable. I birthed his child, I was suffering at home, and he was out playing playboy in the snow. And he had the nerve to police my spending? “Chloe, do you know how expensive a private night nurse is?” I nodded. “Six thousand a month. I’m aware.” He hissed through his teeth. “You know the price and you still kept her? Do you not know our financial situation?” Oh, I knew. Jason was a sales manager at a tech firm. His base and commission brought in anywhere from $400k to $700k a year. When we got married, our parents chipped in to buy our house in the suburbs, cash. No mortgage. We both had cars bought before the wedding. No debt. High income. And yet, Jason and I lived like we were on the poverty line. He always said, “Let’s spend less now so we can leave more for the kids later.” I was stupid back then. I believed his ghost stories. My quality of life tanked. I gave up my hobbies, my shopping, all to save pennies. But I was done saving. Money earned by a husband is meant to be spent by the wife. If he didn’t want me spending it, I was going to spend it twice as hard. 3 We were still arguing when Brenda walked out of the kitchen with dinner. Seeing Jason gripping my wrist, she gasped and wedged herself between us. She rubbed my wrist with her large, warm hands, then glared at Jason. “Mr. Miller, how could you use so much force? Look, you’ve left a red mark on Chloe!” Jason looked at my wrist, saw the redness, and reached out awkwardly to rub it, but Brenda swatted his hand away. Brenda had seen the viral video ages ago. She had tried to comfort me, saying maybe he lost a bet and it was a punishment. She told me, “New mothers can’t cry. You’ll ruin your eyesight.” She had told me horror stories about a past client who cried too much and needed glasses afterward. She scared my tears back into my tear ducts. But seeing Jason in the flesh, Brenda was clearly furious. She helped me to the table and handed me chopsticks. Jason sat next to me and started eating. Not five minutes later, his phone rang. He answered, listened, and frowned. He looked at me sheepishly. “Uh, Chloe. A colleague is in a bit of a jam. They need my help. Do you mind if I…” “Go, go! Hurry up! Leaving in the middle of dinner? Must be a life-or-death emergency!” Before I could speak, Brenda stood up and started shooing him away. “Chloe, I… it’s not like that. It’s just… my friend was driving back and her tire blew out.” “Well, that’s a puzzle,” I said. “When a tire blows out, you call AAA. Why is she calling you? Did you moonlight as a mechanic and forget to tell me?” Jason’s face darkened. “Brenda is right. Jason, when did you switch careers?” 4 Jason’s face went from red to green. He looked at us, then at his phone. Eventually, he sat back down and kept eating, furiously typing on his phone. Probably texting her that he couldn’t come. Two bites later, the phone rang again. I don’t know if it was accidental or intentional, but he put it on speaker. A weeping female voice filled the room. “Jason, when are you coming? There are so many cars whizzing by, I’m scared!” Before Jason could speak, I leaned toward the phone. “Jason isn’t a mechanic. If you have a flat, call a tow truck. If you don’t know how, I can teach you. Open Google Maps, search for…” “Chloe, that is enough!” Jason snapped. “Kenzie is fresh out of college. It’s normal to be scared when you get a flat on the highway. Do you have to be so sarcastic?” He glanced at Brenda playing with the baby, then sneered at me. “I’m just going to help a colleague. You two are acting like I’m committing a crime. Is it necessary?” He threw his chopsticks down, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out. As he left, he cooed into the phone, “Don’t be scared, I’m on my way. Stand behind the guardrail, don’t stand in traffic like an idiot.” The door slammed shut. My tears finally broke the dam. Brenda looked at the closed door, then at my wet face, and sighed heavily. “Whether you keep this man is up to you. But if it were my daughter, I’d tell her to kick him to the curb.”
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