The Man They Blame

Gaslighting Hypocrite

“So what would you like to eat, honey? I’ll cook it for you.”

The moment Derek opened the door, he saw his wife, now dressed in her sheer silk pyjamas, getting up from the sofa where she had been sitting with a man he had just rescued from a building burning down—a fire that was still causing his legs to throb intensely.

The man was wearing matching pyjamas and held a glass of rich red wine in his hand; he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.

Erin smiled as she stroked the man’s cheek. “Tell me anything you want, and I’ll make it for dinner.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, his lips moving stiffly in a faint smile at her words. To him, Erin seemed so hypocritical—during their entire marriage, she had never once offered to take care of him.

“Cooking isn’t a woman’s job, Derek!” she had insisted during the first week of their marriage when Derek hugged her and asked what they would have for dinner when he got home from work.

She pulled away from his embrace and glared at him. “I take care of plenty of things; the founder of the Firefighter Family Safety Foundation and a well-known public safety advocate demand my time and energy.”

Her gaze rebuked Derek. “Housework as a housewife would only hold me back. I hope you can understand and support me. Don’t act like a patriarchal man by expecting a woman to take care of you.”

Hearing that, he was stunned. He had absolutely no intention of limiting or imposing restrictions on Erin; out of respect for that, Derek took on the responsibility of managing the household for her, from preparing meals, cleaning the house, and taking out the trash, to doing the laundry, all of which became his responsibility. He did it all to support Erin so she’d have more time, without complaining.

And now, right in front of him, Erin had twisted all those words into a different reality—she, who had never served him and who had labelled such actions as patriarchal, now seemed to be on her knees before another man.

His chest flared with anger, and Derek stepped in and approached her. “What’s going on here?” He turned Erin’s body, which had been facing the pantry, toward him.

Erin, who had turned toward him, looked startled.

“Explain to me why you were in that room with him, naked?” His mouth moved stiffly; his mind recalled something he hated and didn’t want to ask. “Are you cheating on me?”

The shock on Erin’s face faded, replaced by a fierce glare as she shot him an disapproving look. “You’re being irrational, Derek. You saw me with another man, and now you’re accusing me? Your ego is so fragile that you’re easily hurt and quick to blame others.”

Derek swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as those words—once again designed to corner him—were hurled at him. He then tightened his grip on Erin’s wrist, the corners of his eyes reddening as he held back his anger.

But Erin didn’t see that anger as a sign of remorse; she snorted at the anger Derek was directing at her. “Don’t you realise you’re being possessive right now?!”

The woman shook her hand off forcefully, her gaze condemning Derek’s actions toward her. “You’re being toxic, controlling me over the relationships I have- you patriarchal man.”

Realising he was gripping Erin’s arm, Derek let it go, but that didn’t mean her words had succeeded in manipulating him with guilt as they had in the past.

He took a deep breath, trying to be patient. This time, he wanted a clear answer from her. “Just answer my question, Erin,” he said in a shaky voice.

Over there, Dick watched the scene calmly, smiling secretly at how cold and sharp Erin’s expression was toward Derek.

She glared at him. “The most dangerous thing about men in frontline professions is that they constantly present themselves as victims while refusing to examine their own need for control. You have no right to control me.” She pointed her finger at Derek’s chest and shoved him. “I have a right to myself, and to any emotional relationship I choose to form with anyone; you have no right to judge me for that.”

Derek stood frozen in place, stunned by her response. He was her lawful husband in the sight of the law, yet he had no right to question the affair his wife was having right in front of him. Just how far would he be humiliated by the arguments Erin was about to make just to defend herself?

Seeing Derek’s silence, Erin turned away, her eyes fixed on his wrist. “Look at what you’ve done. You’re judging me, but you’re the one acting irresponsibly.”

She walked over to the trash bin and tossed it down in front of Derek. “You're not even wearing the wristband that promotes my foundation. As a firefighter, you refuse to help raise awareness for firefighters’ families, which proves that you are selfish, cold, and disrespectful. Therefore, he has no right to stand on the moral high ground and question me.” She shouted right in front of him.

Derek stared at his wrist without moving from where he stood; he knew it wasn’t his fault because he’d already worn it. But the saddest part for him is that she only found that wristband missing on his wrist but didn’t see the wound on it. He lost the band in the rescue, and he didn’t even know it where.

“Oh, Erin.” Derek got up from his seat and approached her, pointing at his wrist. “I also didn’t wear it; I put it somewhere, and now I've lost it, sorry.” He was about to pick another one from the table.

But Erin quickly grabbed his hand and smiled. “Oh, it's fine. It's not your fault, honey. It’s only natural you lost it. You’ve been so busy handling important matters with the Apex group for the Firefighter Foundation. That’s truly admirable."

She gently brushes Dick’s hand. “You’ve already helped save this planet.”

“Enough!” Derek’s deep voice cut them off. His gaze blazed at both of them. “You sound ridiculous, Erin.”

He couldn’t stand Erin’s double standards; all this time he’d thought she had her own ideals, but it turned out Derek was just an exception to her own standards. “You’re acting like a sycophant—”

Before he could finish, Erin shouted at him. “Watch your mouth, Derek! You’re nothing but an insignificant man.” Her breath came in fierce gasps.

The woman stood boldly in his way. “You know the only reason I married an insignificant firefighter was for the sake of my public image.” Her anger made her spill the cruel truth she’d been hiding all this time.

As an elite woman born into a wealthy and powerful family, she needed to avoid coming across as an elitist who was out of touch with reality. Derek—a man working in a dangerous, male-dominated field focused on physically demanding, rough work that required both strength and courage—provided her progressive image with the “on-the-ground credibility” and connection to the community that she desperately needed.

Derek stared at her with a wounded expression, his chest feeling as if it were being forcibly torn open while its contents were roughly ripped out.

Meanwhile, Erin looked at him with a mocking smile on her face. “Your identity gives me credibility, and my wealth gives you a decent life. This marriage has always been a mutually beneficial arrangement. You just need to keep playing the role of the quiet, reliable firefighter husband who doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Derek finally understood. Erin had never seen him as a husband. To her, Derek was merely a marital tool to bolster her political image, her foundation’s narrative, and her public persona. Three years of love, tolerance, housework, support, and sacrifice were nothing more than “role obligations” that Erin expected him to fulfil.

The last remnants of warmth in Derek’s heart froze. He looked at Erin and said calmly, “Let’s get a divorce.”