The Post That Killed My Marriage

Right after giving birth, I stumbled upon a post:

My wife just had a baby, but I don't want to help take care of the kid. What should I do?

Someone replied with advice:

Hurry up and apply for an overseas assignment with your company. Best if it's for about three years.

The poster was puzzled: Why?

The advisor explained:

"Are you stupid? These three years are when kids are the hardest to take care of. Find a legitimate excuse to get out and you can avoid all the hassle, right?"

"Plus, kids have no memories of their first three years. By the time you come back from your assignment, it won't affect you being a good father later."

"If your wife ever fights with you about it, just tell her how hard you worked making money those three years abroad."

"It's a win-win situation!"

The poster immediately responded gratefully: "Thanks, man."

I stared in disbelief, thinking what awful people these two were.

The next second, a message from my husband popped up:

"Cedric, the company is assigning me overseas for three years."

I stared at those words, somewhat confused. Why did Morant's message sound exactly like what that post had suggested?

After a moment of shock, I replied:

"Overseas assignment? Why so sudden? Where are you going?"

The typing indicator above the chat box appeared and disappeared intermittently.

Morant's message finally came through:

"It's a new project in the Southwest."

"Cedric, this is a rare opportunity. The company values this project highly and specifically requested me to lead the team. Once this is done, I'll definitely get promoted and get a raise when I come back. Our lives will be so much better."

Morant sounded earnest and sincere.

In the past, I probably would have supported his career.

But I'd just finished my postpartum recovery period. My parents had died in an accident two years ago, and Morant's parents were unreliable.

If he left now, I'd be the only one managing everything at home, inside and out.

I told him what I was thinking:

"I don't want you to go."

"The baby is still so small, I really can't handle it alone."

"And when my maternity leave ends, I have to go back to work too. Who will watch the baby then?"

"If you leave now, you're dumping all the burden on me."

Morant replied almost instantly:

"Cedric, I know how hard this is on you. I don't want to leave you and the baby either."

"But we need to think long-term. This separation now is for a better future."

"As for taking care of the baby, there's always a way."

"You can take the baby to work with you. Lots of moms do that, don't they?"

"Just tough it out for a few years. Once I'm back, everything will be fine. You'll just have to work hard these few years, and when I return, everything will be better."

I frowned, laughing bitterly.

How dare he say such things, casually telling me to sacrifice while he wanted to be a deserter?

I couldn't hold back and confronted him:

"Easy for you to say. How am I supposed to work and take care of a baby at the same time? Carry the baby to the office? Or should I split myself in half?"

He paused for a moment this time, then dropped a bombshell:

"If it doesn't work out, just quit your job."

"I can definitely support you and our daughter, no problem."

"You can focus on taking care of the baby at home. Isn't that great? Many families arrange things this way."

I stared at those lines, instantly furious, my chest tightening with frustration.

I didn't even want to type anymore. I sent angry voice messages instead.

"I'm not willing to do that."

"Before we got married, I made it clear to you that I wouldn't be a housewife. It hasn't been that long, and you're already going back on your word."

"You leaving for three years isn't fair to me, and it's not fair to Ellis either."

"The child needs a father. You have parenting responsibilities too."

He defended himself pitifully:

"Then what do you want me to do?!"

"I'm doing all this for"

"Enough!"

I cut him off.

"We can't talk clearly on the phone. Come home early tonight. We need to discuss this face to face."

This time, a full two or three minutes passed before his message finally appeared:

"I can't tonight. There's a project kickoff meeting. I have to have dinner with the leadership. It'll definitely be late. Don't wait up, get some rest."

"I'll come home early tomorrow and we'll talk properly, okay?"

I was exasperated. Ever since the baby was born, he'd been leaving early and coming home late, suddenly becoming a workaholic.

I didn't think much of it before, but after seeing that post, something felt off.

I didn't give him room to negotiate.

"Tonight. I'll wait for you. We must talk this through."

After a long while, he finally replied with a simple "okay."

I let out a deep sigh.

On impulse, I clicked back into that post. Surprisingly, it had been updated.

Just over ten minutes ago, the poster had a new problem:

"My wife won't agree to my overseas assignment. She says there's no one to help take care of the baby. So annoying. Women are so short-sighted."

The advisor quickly replied:

"That's easy. First, work it out with your mom. Have your mom come help out."

"Once you leave, then have your mom find some excuse to bail."

"By then you'll already be overseas. What can your wife do about it?"

"The kid will be tied to her. She can't just abandon the baby, can she? In the end, she'll have to deal with it herself."

The poster was ecstatic, sending a string of praise emojis:

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You really get it! I'll do exactly that!"

I felt my hands and feet go cold.

This was a coordinated attack against women.

Some netizens who couldn't stand it started cursing:

"Have some humanity!"

"Your wife just gave birth to your child and you're scheming against her like this? Did a dog eat your conscience?"

"What a time to be alive, even animals can pretend to be human now."

"Red flag! Stay away from this scumbag!"

Facing the criticism from netizens, the poster didn't immediately respond.

I thought maybe he felt guilty and didn't have the nerve to show his face.

But after a while, he replied.

He shot back at those criticizing him:

"What do you know?! Easy for you to talk when it's not your problem!"

"Do you know how much pressure there is in the workplace these days? I'm going out there to advance my career for this family!"

"Isn't it a woman's natural duty to take care of children? Isn't it tiring for me to earn money to support the family?"

"My mom worked hard her whole life. Helping out is a favor, not an obligation. What's wrong with that?"

"You say I'm scheming? I'm rationally allocating family resources. You're just jealous!"

His comments became more and more extreme and absurd, drawing even more angry criticism from netizens.

The thread grew rapidly, quickly turning into a fierce flame war.

Until one reply appeared:

"Screenshot taken. Everyone, stop arguing. The most important thing now is to make sure his wife knows about this."

"You'd better pray your wife never sees this post."

After this reply, the previously arrogant poster suddenly went silent.

A few seconds later, I refreshed the page.

The screen displayed:

"Sorry, the post you're trying to access has been hidden or deleted."

He panicked. I clicked into his profile page. It was completely blank, with default avatar and username. There was no useful information to be found.

But I wasn't worried. Those who should slip up will slip up eventually.

At seven in the evening, Ellis started fussing before bed.

I held her and paced back and forth in the living room, humming an off-key lullaby.

At eight, Morant sent a message:

"Meeting's running long, will be a while longer. You eat first, don't go hungry."

I didn't reply, just kept pacing.

Ellis's crying quieted down, turning into pitiful whimpers.

At nine-thirty, he sent another message:

"Had a few drinks with clients, won't be back that soon. Just go to sleep."

At eleven, I finally heard keys turning in the lock.

He pushed the door open and saw me sitting on the sofa. He froze for a moment:

"You're still up? Didn't I tell you to sleep?"

He walked toward me, trying to hug me. A faint, unfamiliar perfume scent wafted over.

I moved aside to avoid him. He looked awkward.

I got straight to the point:

"Let's talk about the overseas assignment."

He sat down and began explaining:

"Cedric, I know you were upset today."

"This assignment really was too sudden. I had no idea the company would arrange things this way."

I didn't respond, just looked at him.

Seeing my silence, he continued:

"Look, raising a kid is so expensive now. Education costs will be even more astronomical later."

"My current position isn't greatstuck in the middle, and the pay is just so-so. When I come back..."

He went on and on, painting a picture of his promotion and raise.

But I was too lazy to listen anymore. I asked him:

"Did you actively apply for this assignment?"

He froze for a moment, his eyes flickering briefly before returning to normal:

"How could that be? Of course the company arranged it. If I refused, wouldn't that make me ungrateful?"

"Is that so?"

I stared at him, my gaze sweeping across his slightly open collar, where there seemed to be some inconspicuous glitter.

"Are you going alone or with someone else?"

He turned his head, avoiding my gaze: "My secretary is going too."

His secretary was named Ilysis, a pretty young woman.

I understood, and smiled.

He was baffled by my smile and quickly changed the subject:

"Cedric, I know it'll be hard for you to take care of the baby alone. I've already thought it throughwe can have my mom come help."

Hearing this, my heart sank.

This line...

Morant thought his idea was great, his voice brightening:

"My mom's still in decent health. She can definitely handle taking care of the baby."

"With her helping out, won't that make things easier for you?"

As he said this, his expression was frank and his tone sincere.

If I hadn't seen that post, I might have been fooled by his act.

The last bit of hope in my heart disappeared. It really was him scheming against me.

I didn't rush to expose him. Under his gaze, I gently nodded.

"Fine, then go."

Since he dared to scheme against me, he couldn't blame me for what came next.

Morant's face instantly lit up.

"Cedric, you really agree?"

He seemed to want confirmation, his voice barely containing his joy.

"Yeah."

I lowered my head, looking at my fingers twisted together, not wanting to see his nauseating expression.

"When are you leaving?"

"Next week! Next Wednesday's flight!"

He blurted it out, then seemed to realize he sounded too eager and softened his tone:

"The project timeline is tight, they're pushing hard over there. I wanted to spend more time with you and Ellis, but I really have no choice."

I smiled bitterly. He really didn't want to stay a moment longer.

"But," he leaned in closer, trying to hold my hand. I shifted slightly, avoiding him.

He didn't seem to mind and continued:

"I've arranged everything. I'll call my mom in a bit and have her pack up and come as soon as possible."

"Also, I told Torres that while I'm gone these three years, he should look after you two."

"If there's any heavy work, hard labor, or anything that needs a man's help, just ask him. He's my best friend, totally trustworthy."

I knew TorresMorant's childhood friend who grew up with him.

They both joined the same company. Morant became a minor manager while Torres remained an ordinary employee.

He was pretty helpful. Morant mentioned him often.

I didn't know if this was part of his scheme.

But since he'd already made all these arrangements, how could I not go along with his wishes?

I said okay.

Morant breathed a sigh of relief, hugging me tightly and thanking me for understanding him.

This time I didn't avoid him. I rested my chin on his shoulder and sneered.

Morant, it was too early to thank me.