The Freedom Fund: A Wife’s Secret Savings, A Marriage’s Public Collapse

anymore. I just saw a servant. A maid. A chauffer. Mike is a “good man” on paper—he doesn’t hit me, he doesn’t drink. But he’s another child I have to take care of. He comes home, sits on the recliner, and asks, “What’s for dinner?” while I’m drowning in laundry, homework, and dishes. I realized if I left then, with two toddlers and a resume gap, I’d continue reading …