icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

No Longer Your Perfect Husband

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 843    |    Released on: 10/07/2025

e phone. I was standing in my newly painted kitchen, the smel

-like. "She's refusing to eat. She says she on

rse. It wasn't about me.

om a restaurant,

version." There was a hint of frustration in her vo

said. "But it's pr

you talk

child to eat all the time. You should be feeding her more vegetables," I said, the wo

hrown off. "Well, what am I

she wants. It's called parenting." I offered a solution. "There are plenty of h

t! Can't you just tell me

N

just a recipe,

on't want to

own shack your parents left you? I saw the pictures

e of my place. A few months ago, they wou

note of pride in my voice that

. "How can you be happy there? Where a

I said. "And don't ca

an,

ung

nto my phone's settings and blocked her number. I blocked her pare

over me. The connectio

rocking chair I'd found in the attic. As I wo

He could turn a rough piece of wood into something beautiful and functional

ncouraged my art. My mother would frame my clumsy childhood drawings and hang them

at college. A drunk driver ran a

chool, though they had drifted apart as their fortunes diverged. They presente

's List every semester. They were pro

uneral. She had been "sent home" from her European

ity and disdain. I was the charity c

e altar in a rented tuxedo, feeling like an actor in a play I hadn't rehearsed. Olivia looked beau

felt more at home than I ever had in that sterile

lasted for

from a number I didn't recognize. It

ller?" she asked,

es

a Lily Davies. There's been an accident. Y

tilted o

pened? Is

he's in surgery now. Sir

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open
No Longer Your Perfect Husband
No Longer Your Perfect Husband
“For seven years, I was the perfect husband, or rather, the perfect live-in help, trapped in a gilded cage after the Davies family took me in following my parents' death and arranged a marriage to their daughter, Olivia. I gave up my dreams, working a stable job and tending to their every need, becoming a well-dressed butler to a wife who treated me like a convenience and a daughter who called me Ethan. But then, one night, after celebrating a major promotion, I returned home to find the smart lock code changed. Access denied. My own daughter, Lily, saw me through the frosted glass and walked away, refusing to open the door. Olivia's phone went straight to voicemail, the house line just rang. A profound cold settled in my bones as I realized one small deviation from seven years of perfect service meant I was literally cast aside. The next morning, I drove to a diner and called a divorce lawyer. When Olivia finally called, annoyed I wasn't home for Lily's school ride, I simply said, "I'm with my lawyer. I'm filing for divorce." She laughed, bewildered, asking if one night outside was worth it. I thought of the endless chores, my abandoned art, Lily calling me Ethan, the cold silence of the house, and the shadow behind the glass. "Absolutely," I replied. Her tone shifted, sharp and authoritative. "Fine. You can divorce me. But you can't take Lily. She's a Davies. She stays here." I smiled grimly. "Don't worry," I told her, "I'll waive my parental rights. You can have full custody." I then quit the job, gave up the car, and hung up, feeling a wave of liberation I hadn't known in years. I shed the role of their dutiful servant, moving back to my dilapidated childhood home. I rebuilt it with my own hands, filmed the process, and watched in stunned silence as my online channel, "The Rebuilder," exploded, bringing me more success and peace than I'd ever known. This was my life now, simple, honest, and truly mine.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10