Introduction

My game, "Echoes of Starlight," the culmination of years of my life, was finally launching. My wife, Chloe, wasn' t there, opting instead for a critical business dinner with her partner, Liam.

The moment it went live, a text from her arrived, calling my life' s work a mere "hobby," a phrase that felt like a mockery, solidifying the sickening feeling that for years, "for us" had always meant "for her ambition, fueled by my dreams."

That night, Liam's cologne clinging to her, she breezily dismissed my hurt, doubling down on her priorities, until I, completely hollowed out, declared our marriage over. In a dramatic twist, I revealed years of hidden financial success from my "little pixel art," shattering her condescending view of me.

The final blow came at a tech gala, where I, the "Breakout Developer," was courted by a publishing giant, a scene she witnessed in shocked silence. She tried to reconcile, desperately asking if I still loved her, even using our shared tragedy-a miscarriage-as a bargaining chip.

But the love had died, starved by her neglect. I calmly told her, "No." My freedom had finally begun.