My Husband Delivered Food, I Delivered Divorce

My husband would go out for food delivery every day after work to help cover household expenses and pay for our child’s tutoring classes.

He worked so hard, rain or shine, until his skin grew dark from the sun.

Watching him exhaust himself like this, I decided to ask for a divorce.

Margaret Miller glared at me, scolding me for being heartless:

“Jason is doing this for you and the child. He risks himself out there every day delivering food, and yet you want a divorce? You’re nothing but an ingrate!”

“Say whatever you want. I’m getting a divorce!”

I sneered. “Since he loves food delivery so much, let him do it for the rest of his life.”

Jason worked 365 days a year delivering food. He never let me walk him out.

Every time he left, he was secretive, going alone, refusing to let me call him. If I did, he’d get angry and say I was distracting him, that he might get fined for being late.

In the end, he even blocked my number and got a new phone. He said having two numbers made delivering food easier.

Facing this “widow-like” marriage, I decided to file for divorce.

But his family questioned me:

“Jason is doing this for you and your child. He could’ve just relaxed at home after work, but instead he chose to deliver food. And you want a divorce? Do you even have a conscience?”

I laughed coldly. “I don’t have a conscience? Ha.”

Pointing at Jason, I said icily:

“If you don’t want your secret exposed, then you’d better come with me to the County Clerk’s Office and file for divorce!”

My words stunned everyone in his family. They had no idea what I was talking about.

Jason and I had been married for years. Our child was already grown. We had always appeared respectful and harmonious. Jason worked tirelessly, taking extra delivery shifts to cover the tutoring fees, sometimes coming home at dawn. Neighbors who saw his exhausted figure were touched to tears.

Everyone praised Jason as a good man, a model husband.

So even the neighbors watching didn’t understand why I insisted on divorce.

“Rachel, stop it. You’ve been married for years. Why divorce now?”

“Even if I neglected you because of food delivery, that’s no reason for divorce.”

“At worst, I’ll cut down on a few deliveries and come home earlier. You won’t have to sit alone every night. Isn’t that enough? Please, don’t divorce me!”

Jason tried to coax me, and suddenly everyone seemed enlightened. Even his family showed disdain toward me.

“Oh, so that’s it!”

“You’re divorcing him just because you’re lonely at night?”

“What a reckless woman!”

“Exactly! It’s not like he doesn’t come home, just a bit later. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re making a fuss over a couple of hours?”

“What, coming home at 1 or 2 a.m. still isn’t good enough for you? Still not satisfying?”

“What kind of shallow woman are you?”

The neighbors whispered, giving me disdainful looks, as if I were a woman who couldn’t survive one night without a man.

Faced with their slander and misunderstanding, I couldn’t be bothered to explain.

I only had one word: Divorce. Nothing else.

“Enough talk. I’m getting a divorce. He insists on delivering food every single day!”

Suddenly Jason fell to his knees before me.

“Rachel, I’ll come home earlier, okay? Please, let’s not divorce!”

“I used to deliver food until 2 a.m. every night. From now on, I’ll come home by midnight to be with you, okay?”