I had an office job, a proper 9-to-5 that made me feel like a man. One Monday, I walked in and was told to prepare for the worst—we might lose our jobs.

Why? News spread that one of our team members had duped the company and fled the country without a trace. Sack letters had already been printed, waiting for us, but there was a catch: “If you can pay half of the money your colleague stole, you won’t be fired.

I worked toward it. I emptied my savings, sold almost everything I owned, just to cover my share so they wouldn’t fire us. After they took my money and put us through that hell, they fired us anyway.

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My salary hadn’t been our only lifeline. We were a two-income household because I had supported my wife during our six-year courtship.

I opened a hair business for her, which eventually grew into a boutique. So, while my savings were gone, there was hope she could hold us together until I found another job.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get another one. Let’s put our hope in God. He will provide for us, honey,” she told me. Most of the responsibilities I once handled fell to her—bills, my haircut, the small things I needed, even the big ones.

I searched for jobs and took any gig that came my way. It wasn’t much, but it helped. Still, I was petrified. I knew how badly some women handle a man without a job. At first, it was sweet and rosy, then bittersweet. My story is not any a different.

She would come home, find me in the living room, and start picking fights: “Why aren’t your legs on the sofa? Why have you opened your legs?” At some point, I stopped eating the meals she prepared. I had grown too sad for myself, and I was genuinely afraid. Most days, I shivered when I thought about the way she spoke to me, her voice heavy with disdain. It felt as if her only purpose was to push me into anger. Even the sound of my breathing to irritated her.

Worse, she questioned my masculinity—whether in front of the children in the house, friends, or family. She let the words slip without care. I was losing it. This woman had the power to help me but chose to watch me drown, even though her business was doing well.

Eventually, I got another job through a friend—a very good one, better than the first. It was out of town and came with perks: a house, an official car, and a hefty salary. Losing my previous job now felt like a test.

Weeks before I officially resumed work, I told her I was traveling. I should have been honest, but we had reached a point where we were strangers. I wasn’t the man I used to be in her eyes. She hated my guts, and in my mind, I simply wanted to set her free. Keeping the news to myself was a gift to my own soul. It was the only way to save my sanity.

Somehow, we both just kind of moved on without ever saying a word. She never once checked to see if I was alive, and I did the same.

I transferred all that energy and put every bit of my heart into this new job and into a kind woman I met through the friend who helped me get the position.

After more than a year of silence, my wife appears at my office. She said, “I’m here to take my seat next to you as your legally wedded wife, and move into our house.”

I smiled. Our home? Which home?

“You can’t show up after a year of no communication and tell me you’re moving into my house,” I told her. I didn’t even recognize the woman standing there. I even told her the woman I met is pregnant, and we are working on building our future together.

Since that day, she has shown up at my workplace almost every morning, loud and unrelenting. I fear I may lose this job too. When I asked her for a divorce, she said, “Over my dead body. It’s me and you until Jesus comes.”

I do not believe this is love. It feels like hurt trying to wound me back. I know I made a mistake. I should have asked for a divorce before I left home. Back then, she would have agreed.

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I no longer have feelings for her. I do not love her anymore. After all that time without a word, I believed she had moved on.

Now, if she is not at my workplace, she is at my house, screaming and drawing a crowd. Her mother supports her and says she is within her rights, which only fuels her fire.

I need advice on what to do next. If this continues, I will lose my job. They already know her face where I work.

—Kenny

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