Chapter 1: The House of Illusions

The ink was barely dry on our new house when Natalie told me she wanted out.

After some tense back and forth, I finally agreed to the breakup. Then I dropped the bomb: the house had zero down payment, and the mortgage was eighteen hundred a month—her responsibility now.

This time, Natalie’s jaw actually dropped. She didn’t see it coming.

---

After another late night at the office—clocking out at 11 p.m.—I trudged home, exhaustion weighing down every step. The pizza box was open on the coffee table, next to a half-empty Diet Coke and a stack of glossy fashion magazines. Natalie was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone, the TV frozen on some reality show. The only light in the apartment came from the screen’s blue glow.

She barely glanced up as I kicked off my shoes and set down my backpack, shoulders aching. My stomach twisted, not sure if I was hungry or just tired.

Without missing a beat, she said, "You’re always working late, but where’s the money? Venmo me two grand—I need a new Coach bag."

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to laugh or scream. Two grand? For a purse? Her tone was all impatience and edge, like she was daring me to argue.

Her words echoed off the walls, mixing with the muted drama from the paused TV. By now, I’d learned to brace myself for her demands—she never hesitated when she wanted something right now.

I slipped off my jacket, walked over, and handed her the little slice of cheesecake I’d picked up from the deli. I tried to smile. "Didn’t you just buy a bag last month? Once we buy the house, you can get whatever you want."

She eyed the cheesecake for a heartbeat, lips twitching as if she might soften, but then she just shrugged, barely acknowledging it.

"House, house, house—that’s all you ever talk about."

Natalie tossed her phone onto the arm of the couch, her nails clicking sharply against the glass. The word "house" came out of her mouth like it was a joke she’d heard too many times.

She huffed, "My mom’s already asked me like a hundred times: how much have you saved? Can you really afford it?"

I kept my voice steady. "We almost have enough for the down payment. I’m still pulling together the last bit—maybe we can even get a bigger place."

At that, Natalie’s face brightened. She grabbed a little spoon and fed me a bite of cream, her mood flipping instantly.

"Really? Babe, you’re amazing! Let’s go look at houses this weekend!"

Her eyes sparkled as she nudged me, the tension in the room dissolving for just a moment.

I patted her head, smiling. "Okay."

---

The weekend finally came, and we headed out to tour homes. The drive took almost an hour, winding past Starbucks drive-thrus, strip malls, and rows of identical mailboxes until we reached the new development. A giant American flag waved near the entrance, and the realtor greeted us with a practiced, too-white smile, clipboard in hand.

The model home had a wide-open layout and tons of natural light. Sun streamed through big windows, lighting up the soft beige carpet and making the granite countertops gleam. Everything smelled like fresh paint and possibility.

Natalie and her mom’s faces lit up the second we walked in. They touched every surface, offering up loud praise.

"This living room is so spacious!"

Her mom ran her hand along the wall. "We’ll put a big sectional here, and the TV wall needs to be just right."

Derek, her brother, called from another room: "Sis, I want this bedroom with the view!"

Her mom didn’t miss a beat. "Yes, yes, that one’s yours. When you get married, if you’re still living here, you and your wife can have the master bedroom, and your sister and her husband can have this one."

She talked like this was her family’s housewarming party, not my life savings on the line.

I stood by the front door, invisible, while they divvied up the place like I was just the moving guy. Their voices echoed around me, and I felt myself shrinking in my own shoes.

After a while, her mom finally remembered I existed. She turned, smiling just enough to be polite. "Jason, I think this place is really nice—great location, lots of rooms, our whole family could live here comfortably. You should go start the purchase process now, before someone else snatches it up."

She paused, then asked, "Jason, the prices here aren’t low. Are you sure you have no problem with the down payment?"

I tried to look confident, even as my gut twisted. "No problem, Mrs. Carter. For Natalie, no matter how hard it is, I’ll make it work!"

Natalie looked pleased and punched me playfully in the chest. "At least you have some sense."

Her mom’s smile was sly, like she was congratulating herself for making a good trade. "Jason, why do your clothes look so old? Once we buy the house, you should get yourself some decent outfits—don’t embarrass our Natalie."

I tugged at my sleeves, wishing I could disappear. Two years of saving, and all I had to show for it was a faded jacket and a bank account on life support.

To save money, I ate two slices of white bread for lunch every day. When coworkers ordered takeout, I just shrugged and said, "Bread’s fine—keeps things simple."

Every ten or twenty bucks I saved, I transferred straight into a special account. Overtime, project bonuses—every penny counted.

My stomach cramped, but I forced a smile. Bread for lunch, again. Maybe next month, I’d splurge on turkey.

Seeing Natalie’s bright smile in that moment, I felt a sharp pang somewhere deep inside. Sacrifice was supposed to be worth it, wasn’t it?