At Susan's House
Susan walked into the bedroom and froze, staring at the sight before her. Mark was sprawled across the bed, snoring loudly, his shirt half-unbuttoned, exposing his belly, and his socks still on, one dangling halfway off his foot.
The room was dimly lit by the flickering glow of the television, which was playing some sports recap he'd probably fallen asleep to hours ago.
Empty snack wrappers littered the nightstand. The smell of stale chips and beer hung in the air.
For a moment, she just stood there, taking in the mess, the apathy, the man who barely resembled the person she married. Then, with a sharp exhale, she spoke.
"Is this really you now?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet room.
Mark snorted awake, rubbing his eyes and groaning as he pushed himself up on one elbow. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Susan crossed her arms tightly, her knuckles white. "You. Us. This entire joke of a marriage. Do you even care anymore? Do you even notice me? Do you even notice anything?"
Mark blinked at her, still groggy. "What's gotten into you now? You're always on my case."
Susan let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, don't even start, Mark. I was gone for all night! ALL NIGHT. Not one text, not one call. Nothing! You didn't even bother to ask where I was, how I was, if I was safe! Do you even realize how humiliating it is to know your own husband doesn't give a damn?"
Mark frowned, clearly annoyed. "You're overreacting. I figured you were out with your friends or something. I'm not your babysitter, Susan."
"BABYSITTER?" Susan's voice shot up, her face turning red with anger. "You're my husband! Or at least you're supposed to be. Do you even hear yourself?
You couldn't even muster the bare minimum effort to pick up your damn phone to call me and check up on my well being and ask if I'm safe or not.
Even if I was with my friends you could have just asked. What if I was kidnapped or something would have happened to me. God forbid you actually cared enough to check if your wife made it home alive."
Mark rolled his eyes and slumped back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over himself. "You're always making a big deal out of every little thing. You point out flaws out of nothing, Susan. You act like I'm supposed to track your every move.
I work hard, I'm exhausted, and all I want is some peace and quiet. But no, you're always on my case about every little thing. Can't I just get a break without you turning everything into a drama?"
Susan's fists clenched, and her voice trembled with fury. "Every little thing? Are you serious right now? You sleep all the time, Mark! That's all you do! You sleep, you eat, you watch TV, and you ignore me.
You don't contribute to this marriage at all anymore! I'm running myself into the ground trying to hold us together, and all you care about is your next nap or the next game on TV!"
Mark sat up, scowling. "Oh, so I'm the problem? Maybe you should take a look at yourself, Susan.
You're always whining and complaining. Maybe if you stopped nagging me for five minutes, I'd actually feel like coming home to you."
Susan flinched, her face flushing with a mix of hurt and fury. "Coming home to me? You barely even see me, Mark! I'm invisible to you. When was the last time you asked me how my day was?
When was the last time you planned something for us, took me out, made me feel like I mattered? Do you even remember how to be a husband?"
Mark sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. "And when was the last time you made me feel like a man, Susan? Huh? Or made me want to do anything for you?
You're always nagging, always finding something to complain about. You think you're a prize?
Maybe if you stopped running off to your friends all the time and actually acted like a wife, things wouldn't be this bad."
Susan's eyes widened, her fury erupting like a volcano. "Don't you dare talk about my friends!
Do you know why I spend so much time with them? Because if you were even *half* the husband you used to be, I wouldn't have to!
If you'd ever planned something—anything—for me, for us, maybe I wouldn't feel like I have to rely on my friends for the care and attention you refuse to give me. You've pushed me away, Mark. This is all on you!"
Mark scoffed, his annoyance clear. "Oh, so now it's my fault you spend all your time gossiping and complaining with your friends?
That's rich, Susan. Maybe if you weren't so miserable and critical all the time, things would be different."
Susan's voice cracked as she yelled, her frustration overwhelming. "Miserable? You're damn right I'm miserable, Mark! How could I not be when I'm married to someone who doesn't care about me at all?
You don't notice when I leave, you don't notice when I come back, and you sure as hell don't care if I'm happy or safe.
I was gone all night, Mark! Not a single call, not a single text! What if something had happened to me?"
Mark rolled his eyes and grabbed his pillow, muttering as he stomped toward the door. "I'm not doing this with you early in the morning. I'm going to sleep on the couch today, maybe I'll be able to sleep peacefully there."
Susan took a step forward, her voice rising with every word. "Of course you are! Because that's all you ever want to do—sleep!
Sleep through your responsibilities, sleep through our problems, and now you're sleeping through this marriage. God forbid you ever try to fix anything!"
Mark slammed the door behind him, leaving Susan trembling with rage. She sank onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, fighting back tears.
Her thoughts swirled bitterly, 'Samuel would have noticed. Samuel would have cared enough to check if I was safe. Samuel would have made me feel loved, valued, and wanted—everything Mark couldn't be.'
For the first time, Susan admitted to herself that Mark wasn't the man she deserved. He had stopped being that man long ago.
---
At Diane's House
Diane stood in the kitchen, staring at the pile of dirty dishes that had been sitting there for days, a glaring reminder of the effort she put into holding their lives together while her husband, Eric, didn't even try.
From the living room, she could hear the sound of gunfire and explosions from his video game, his shouts into the headset making her blood boil. She'd had enough.
Marching into the living room, she grabbed the remote and turned off the TV in one swift motion.
"Hey! What the hell, Diane?" Eric yelled, ripping off his headset and glaring at her.
"What the hell?" Diane shot back, her voice sharp and trembling with anger. "Are you kidding me? This is your life now? Sitting here all day playing video games while I do everything?
Do you even see the dishes piling up, the laundry that's been sitting there for a week? Or do you only care about killing virtual enemies?"
Eric groaned, throwing his controller onto the couch. "Here we go again. Why do you always have to start something? I work hard all week. Don't I deserve to relax?"
Diane let out a bitter laugh. "Relax? That's all you ever do! When was the last time you did anything for me, Eric? When was the last time you cared about this marriage, about me, about anything other than your stupid games?"
He leaned back, crossing his arms with a sneer. "Maybe if you stopped nagging and actually relaxed yourself, we wouldn't be having this fight. Why are you always so angry? Are you just looking for reasons to fight with me?"
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Looking for reasons? Are you serious? I'm angry because I'm married to a man who doesn't even notice me anymore!
I'm angry because I've spent years waiting for you to show me that you care, only for you to pick video games over me every single time!"
Eric rolled his eyes, waving her off. "Oh, give me a break. You're acting like this is all my fault. Maybe you're the one who's changed, Diane.
You're always complaining about something. Maybe you should ask yourself why I don't want to deal with you anymore."
Her fists clenched at his dismissive tone. "Don't you dare turn this around on me. You don't want to deal with me because dealing with me means trying!
It means being a man who actually contributes to this marriage. God forbid you do anything but sit here and rot on this couch!"
He smirked, his words cutting deep. "You know what? Maybe you're just fighting with me because you've got some guy waiting on the back burner. Is that it? You're picking fights so you can get rid of me and run off with someone else?"
Diane froze, her breath catching in her throat. "What… did you just say?"
"You heard me," Eric said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're probably out there with your friends talking to some guy who makes you feel 'special' or whatever. That's why you're always looking for a reason to tear me down—so you can have your excuse to leave."
Her face flushed with anger, her voice trembling as she yelled, "How dare you accuse me of something like that? If I wanted to leave, I'd leave!
The only reason I'm still here is because I've been stupid enough to believe you'd actually change! But you've made it clear—you care more about your damn games than you'll ever care about me!"
Eric grabbed his controller and scoffed. "Yeah, well, at least my games don't nag me to death."
Diane let out a frustrated scream, her voice breaking. "You are pathetic! I have spent years cleaning up your messes, holding this house together, and trying to make this marriage work while you sit on your ass and act like you're the victim! You don't deserve me, Eric. You don't even deserve the time I've already wasted on you."
He stood up, grabbing his pillow off the couch. "You're exhausting, Diane. I'm done with this. I'm going to sleep on the couch. Maybe when I wake up you'll stop acting crazy."
As he stomped out of the room, Diane stood there, shaking with rage. Her chest heaved as tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Storming into the bedroom, she slammed the door shut and sank onto the bed, her head in her hands. Her mind raced. Samuel would never accuse Esther of something so vile.
He would notice her, care about her, make her feel loved. God Esther is so lucky to have him as his son and now as love interest.
Eric, with his laziness, his accusations, and his indifference, had become everything she despised. For the first time, she allowed herself to admit the truth: Eric wasn't just failing her—he had already lost her.
—
That evening, all five women—Sarah, Linda, Karen, Susan, and Diane—texted each other, their frustrations spilling out in messages as they vented about their husbands.
Sarah: "I can't stand him anymore. He's lazy, disgusting, and completely selfish."
Linda: "Same. I feel like I don't even exist in my own home."
Karen: "He's so cold. I don't know why I thought he'd ever change."
Susan: "I feel like I married a stranger. It's like he doesn't even care."
Diane: "It's exhausting living with someone who doesn't love you. You know Eric straight-up accused me of picking fights on purpose, like I enjoy being angry all the time."
Their messages grew angrier as they shared stories of their husbands' laziness, selfishness, and complete lack of effort. Each confession fueled the others' anger.
Sarah: "He doesn't even notice when I'm upset anymore. I could probably walk out, and he wouldn't even realize I was gone."
Linda: "I know what you mean. Mine's glued to his damn phone all the time. He couldn't even tell me what color my dress was at the last event we went to."
Karen: "Mine didn't even remember our anniversary this year. Just sat there watching sports like it was any other day."
Susan: "Mine had the nerve to blame me for his own laziness. Said I was the reason he didn't feel like doing anything anymore."
Diane: Eric is the worst. He even had the gutts of accusing me of cheating on him when all I wanted was good of him. I deserve better."
Then came the comparisons. As my name surfaced, it was impossible not to linger on me.
Sarah: "You know who wouldn't treat us like this? Samuel."
Linda: "Oh my God, yes. He actually listens. He cares."
Karen: "Esther is so lucky to have him. He's everything our husbands aren't."
Susan: "Right? Samuel notices things. He knows how to make a woman feel appreciated. Not like the useless lumps we're stuck with."
Diane: "It's not just that he's attentive. He's strong. Confident. Like, you know he would never let us feel this small or unloved."
Sarah: "Honestly, there are men like Samuel out there who know how to treat a woman. I wonder why I settled with him. And what did I see in him to marry him in the first place?"
Linda: "Exactly. Someone who listens, who cares, who makes you feel special."
Karen: "Exactly. Samuel is the best. Compared to my husband, he's everything I ever wanted and what I would want in my husband."
Susan: "Girls, you're thinking what I'm thinking, right?"
Diane: "I'm not going to lie—I've thought about it. How different life could be with someone like him."
Sarah: "Exactly. Imagine being with someone who actually tries. Someone who makes you feel important every single day."
Linda: "I'm not going to lie—I've thought about it as well. How different life could be with someone like him."
Karen: "Me too. Compared to our husbands, Samuel is everything I've ever wanted in a partner, and everything I would ever need in my husband."
Susan: "God, I'd trade places with Esther in a heartbeat."
Diane: "We're not wrong to want that. To want someone who sees us, who actually cares, when our husbands aren't bothered about us. I don't even think Esther realizes how lucky she is."
The bitterness turned into a shared yearning, their anger fueling their desire to escape from the men who had let them down.
Sarah: "Honestly, there are men out there who know how to treat a woman. Samuel's proof of that."
Linda: "Exactly. If only we had a chance to feel that kind of love, even for a moment."
Karen: "We deserve better. And right now, we deserve a break. I say we take one."
Susan: "A trip. Away from them. We deserve this."
Diane: "Jeju Island. Let's go. Just us. No husbands, no stress. Just us six friends and Samuel."
The idea came naturally—an escape to Jeju Island. Away from their disappointing husbands, away from the fights, and closer to someone who they couldn't stop thinking about.
Sarah: "Let's go. A few days away from all this might be exactly what we need."
Linda: "Agreed. I need a break as well. I want to at least spend a week with a man like Samuel. I deserve it."
Karen: "Jeju Island sounds perfect. Let's book it."
With their minds made up, they began to plan the trip together, their desires only growing stronger after the explosive fights. The thought of being close to Samuel, of seeing firsthand the life Esther got to enjoy, made their plans even more urgent.
---
While I finished preparing for the trip, I had no idea that Sarah, Linda, Karen, Susan, and Diane were planning to follow.
Driven by anger, frustration, and unfulfilled desires, all of that enhanced by my aura of allure, they hoped Jeju Island would give them the escape—and the connection—they were longing for. But in reality, they were actually helping me clear my mission faster.
[Author's Note:
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