My Husband Fell for a Karaoke Hostess

One month after giving birth, my husband, Wyatt Rook, publicly declared his love for a karaoke hostess on Instagram. His post read: "This is the girl I’m going to spend the rest of my life with."

I had just commented, asking when he'd come to pick me up, only to realize he'd blocked me.

I tried calling him, but before I could say a word, he ruthlessly tore into me in front of the karaoke girl and a group of mutual friends.

"Are you out of your mind? I told you I was with friends!"

"Stop calling me. What’s your problem? You’re just a crazy, delusional fool."

A few minutes later, I saw a video on Instagram of him kissing that karaoke girl passionately.

If this had happened a year ago, I would have stormed over there, furious, ready to scream at him.

But this time, I didn’t care anymore.

...

When Wyatt finally came home, reeking of alcohol, I was feeding the baby.

Today was the day I was leaving the postnatal care center. I’d agreed with Wyatt yesterday that he’d come pick me up.

I was supposed to leave tomorrow, but since it was Valentine’s Day, I decided to return a day early.

I’d arranged to have the house decorated, planning to spend the day as a family of three.

But my perfect picture of the day shattered bit by bit as I watched the clock tick away, minute by minute, in my mind.

If it hadn’t been for seeing his Instagram post and receiving that phone call right when the driver at the postnatal center was about to clock out, I might still be sitting here, holding my baby like a fool, waiting.

Wyatt stumbled toward the sofa, and as soon as he saw it cluttered with bags and boxes, his face soured.

"What’s with the mess?" he asked.

I sat across from him, cradling the baby, calmly watching him.

"I just got back."

"The nanny will clean it up later."

He’d never liked having outsiders in the house, and I’d always handled everything myself.

No matter how busy I was or how late I came home, I’d always clean up because he liked the house neat and tidy.

I used to think that if I was perfect, if I adjusted to all his preferences, he’d eventually settle down.

But now, I realize, a leopard never changes its spots.

When he heard that I’d hired a nanny, his brow furrowed.

"You hired a nanny? You know I don’t like having strangers in the house."

"I have a baby now, Wyatt. I can’t do everything myself."

Wyatt just stared at me, still frowning, but he didn’t say anything.

He casually tossed the takeout box onto the coffee table in front of me.

"You haven’t eaten, right? I brought this back from that restaurant you like."

I opened the packaging with one hand while still holding the baby.

A plate of charbroiled steak was sitting there.

It was a mess of bones and fries, with just a few scraps of meat thrown in.

The extra space in the box clearly showed it had once been full, but now all that was left were the leftovers, picked through by someone else.

I glanced at it but didn’t move to eat.

Wyatt noticed my cold expression, his eyebrows drawing tighter, and his voice hardened with anger.

"Susan, what’s this supposed to mean? I went all the way to get this for you, thinking you hadn’t eaten, and this is how you’re going to treat me? Giving me the cold shoulder?"

"I need to eat light now, and I don’t want leftovers. I’m afraid I’ll get sick," I said.

Just then, his phone rang.

He was about to snap at me again, but when he saw the caller ID, his whole demeanor shifted. The anger melted away, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He shot me a quick glance before walking away to take the call.