My Husband Told Me His “Work Wife” Was An Upgrade. Then I Found Out He Was Paying Her Rent While Telling Me To Budget. How Should I Handle This Dinner Invite?

The Divorce Papers

I would file for divorce citing emotional infidelity. Craig could marry Jessica and everyone would get what they wanted. Craig laughed, saying I was being ridiculous, but Jessica’s face lit up. She said it wasn’t the worst idea, that Craig did complain about me constantly and they were more compatible.

Craig went pale when Jessica eagerly agreed that this could work. I pulled out the divorce papers I’d already had drawn up. My lawyer had included everything: splitting assets, selling the house, and dividing retirement accounts. Half of everything Craig had worked for would be gone.

Then I showed them the prenup template for their future marriage, protecting Jessica’s assets from Craig just like he’d lose half to me. Jessica’s enthusiasm dimmed when she saw that Craig would leave our marriage with half his current worth and she’d be starting fresh with a middle-aged man with financial obligations.

I also showed them my resignation letter to Craig’s company HR department detailing their inappropriate relationship. The financial arrangements and the emotional affair conducted on company time, the co-signed lease, the daily rides, and the covered lunches all violated company policy about manager-subordinate relationships. Since Craig was senior to Jessica, even though she wasn’t his direct report, they’d both be fired immediately.

Craig tried to backtrack, saying work wives were just a joke, that Jessica meant nothing. Jessica’s jaw dropped. She said Craig complained about me constantly. She said they were more compatible. The words hung in the air while I stacked the papers, sliding them back into the folder with steady hands.

Walking Away

Craig’s mouth opened and closed like he was trying to find words that wouldn’t make everything worse. Jessica’s eyes went from Craig to me and back again, waiting for someone to say this was all a joke.

I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping against the floor loud enough to make them both flinch. I thanked them for coming, my voice polite like I just hosted a book club instead of laying out the end of my marriage.

Craig started to stand but I was already walking toward the hallway, folder tucked under my arm. The guest bedroom door clicked shut behind me, the lock turning with a solid sound that felt final.

I sat on the edge of the bed I’d made up earlier with fresh sheets, listening to the silence downstairs stretch out longer and longer. Their voices started maybe 20 minutes later, harsh whispers that carried up through the vents. I couldn’t make out full sentences at first, just the angry rhythm of two people who’d stopped pretending to be on the same side.

I moved closer to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. Jessica’s voice came through clearer now, sharp and accusing. Craig said something back, his tone defensive and panicked. The words started separating into phrases I could actually hear.

She said he told her I was insecure, that I didn’t understand him. He said he never promised her anything, that she was reading too much into their friendship. She said this was his fault for involving her, for making her think there was something real between them.