When Jake suggested moving to Alaska for two years to save money and build our future, I, Chloe (25), readily agreed. But after a quick goodbye trip with my girlfriends, I returned home to a shocking discovery that completely upended my world.
The Weight of “Playing House”
I had thought I had life figured out, living in my mom’s cozy house in South Carolina and working as a freelance graphic designer. My mom, Denise, had moved to rural Alaska five years prior after my dad passed, seeking healing and adventure. Jake moved in with me about two years into our relationship, and at first, it felt like “playing house” in the best way. We enjoyed movie nights, cooked together, and talked about our future, all while enjoying rent-free living.
However, “playing house” slowly transformed into me carrying the household. After eight months of unemployment, Jake, who’d quit his marketing job due to a “too demanding” boss, was living off his dwindling savings and my income. “I’m figuring things out,” he’d say when I brought up job applications, insisting he needed to find his “passion.” Meanwhile, I covered groceries, utilities, and nearly everything else, while he spent his days gaming, watching crypto videos, or hanging out with equally unemployed friends. He’d tell me, “You’re so good at taking care of things. I’m lucky to have someone so organized.” I convinced myself it was temporary, that he just needed time, and that love meant supporting each other.
One evening, as I was making dinner, Jake, who had been scrolling on the couch, suddenly approached me. “Chloe,” he said, turning off the stove and taking my hands, “I love you. I want to spend my life with you.” My heart raced. This wasn’t the proposal I’d envisioned, but seeing the man I loved most, melting my heart. “Yes,” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around his neck. “Of course, yes!” He promised me the most beautiful ring and the wedding of my dreams, once he got “back on his feet.” I believed him.
An Alaskan “Opportunity”
A few weeks later, my mom, Denise, visited from Alaska. She’s a practical, no-nonsense woman who can handle anything. Over dinner, Jake opened up to her about feeling like a “failure,” unable to afford an engagement ring or a real wedding. Mom listened, then wisely said, “Jake, honey, being down on your luck doesn’t make you a failure. But staying down does.” He lamented the high cost of living, claiming he couldn’t save anything. I squeezed his hand, “We’ll figure it out together.”
A week after Mom returned to Alaska, she called, asking to speak to both of us on speaker. “Chloe, honey, I have an idea,” she began. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Jake. About wanting to get ahead but not being able to save money. What if I told you there was a place where you could live rent-free, make more money than you’ve ever made, and save enough for your future in just two years?” Jake was intrigued, though skeptical. Mom warned, “It’s not easy. It’s Alaska. The work is hard. The winters are long and dark. But people up here make serious money during the busy season. And if you lived with me, you wouldn’t pay rent or utilities. Just food and your personal expenses.” I chimed in, “Mom, I’ve worked in Alaska before. And I loved it there.” Jake asked about the potential earnings. “If you both work the fishing season and pick up winter jobs, you could easily save $50,000 each in two years. Maybe more,” Mom explained. “That would be enough for a wedding,” Jake said slowly. “And a down payment on a house.” “And a ring,” I added, smiling. Jake turned to me, “What do you think? Want to have an adventure?” “Are you serious?” I practically bounced. “Yes! Absolutely yes!”
We set a move-out date for three months later. Jake seemed excited, talking about jumpstarting our life together. I should have noticed his excitement differed from mine; I dreamt of our future, while he seemed relieved to have a plan that required no immediate action. I was too caught up in planning our Alaskan adventure to see the red flags.
The Unthinkable Betrayal
Two days before our departure, my girlfriends, Sarah and Jessica, insisted on a goodbye weekend. “This might be the last time we see you for two years!” Sarah declared. Jake insisted I go, assuring me he had everything under control. I flew back earlier than planned, eager for one last movie night with him.
The Uber dropped me off at 6 p.m. I walked in, calling out, “Jake! I’m home early!” The first thing I noticed were my boxes, all neatly stacked by the front door, none of Jake’s in sight. Confused, I called his name again. “Hey, babe,” his casual voice came from the living room. I found him on the couch, watching TV. “Jake, what’s going on? Why are my boxes by the door? And why haven’t you packed anything?” He muted the TV, looking at me with an expression I’d never seen: detached, almost bored. “Yeah, about that,” he said. “I’m not going anymore.” I waited for him to laugh, to say it was a joke, but he didn’t. “What do you mean you’re not going?” I asked, “We leave tomorrow morning.” “I mean, I’m not going to Alaska. I changed my mind.”
“But… but we have a plan. Mom is expecting us. We bought the plane tickets.” Jake shrugged. “You can still go. Actually, you should go. It suits you better anyway.” I sat down heavily. “Jake, I don’t understand. What happened? Did something change?” “Look, Chloe, I’ve been thinking about it, and Alaska just isn’t for me. I’m not built for that kind of life. You are. You’ve done it before, and you love all that outdoorsy stuff. But me? I’d be miserable.” “But we’re supposed to be building our future together!” “You don’t need me to build a future. You’re perfectly capable on your own. You’ve been taking care of everything anyway.” “So, that’s it? You’re… you’re done?” “I’m being realistic. And hey, look on the bright side, you don’t need this apartment anymore. You can cancel the lease. I’ll take care of everything here.” “Cancel the lease? Jake, this is my mom’s house. There is no lease.” “Well, you can go to court if you want it back. But I’ll be staying here.”
I stared, trying to comprehend this surreal moment. Then, I heard it: a toilet flushing. Jake didn’t flinch. The bathroom door opened, and out walked a girl I’d never seen, wearing one of Jake’s t-shirts. She waved, “Oh, hi! You must be Chloe. I’m Maddie.” I looked at Jake. He looked at Maddie. No one seemed to find this bizarre except me. “Jake,” I said slowly, “who is this?” “This is Maddie,” he said, casually. “She’s… well, she’s my girlfriend now.” “Your girlfriend?” “Yeah. We met a few weeks ago. She’s going to be staying here while you’re in Alaska.” “Let me get this straight. You planned this whole thing so I would leave and you could move your new girlfriend into my house?” Jake had the audacity to look annoyed. “Don’t be dramatic, Chloe. We just want different things. I want to stay here and figure out my life. You want to go to Alaska and work on fishing boats. It’s a win-win.” “A win-win,” I repeated, the words foreign. “Exactly. You get your adventure, I get some space to figure things out with Maddie. No hard feelings.” I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t scream or argue. I simply walked out with my weekend bag and hailed a cab to the airport.
A Fresh Start
I spent the night in an airport hotel, processing. Around midnight, I called my mom. “Chloe? Honey, what’s wrong? You sound upset.” “Mom,” I said, my voice cracking, “Jake’s not coming. He… he’s with someone else. He used the Alaska plan to get me out of the house so he could move his new girlfriend in.” There was a long pause. Then, “That absolute piece of garbage,” Mom exclaimed. I laughed through tears. “Mom, you never swear.” “I’m making an exception. Are you okay? Where are you?” “I’m at the airport. I’m flying out in the morning. Alone.” “Good. Come home, sweetheart. We’ll figure this out together.”
The next morning, I boarded the plane to Alaska with one suitcase and a broken engagement. But for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe. Mom picked me up, hugged me, and said, “I’m proud of you. For leaving. For coming here. For choosing yourself.” “I feel like an idiot,” I admitted, driving through the stunning Alaskan landscape. “Three years with him, and I never saw it coming.” “Honey, when someone shows you who they are, believe them. Jake showed you he’s a coward and a user. But you know what else he showed you? That you’re stronger than you think.”
She was right. Within a week, I had a job at a local fishing operation. The work was hard, but I loved it. I was outside, moving, and earning more money than ever. Every day felt like an adventure. Two weeks after I arrived, my friend Brandon called. “Chloe… Leo and I are driving to South Carolina next week. We’re going to take care of your Jake problem.” “What do you mean?” “We’re throwing him and his little girlfriend out of your house. Don’t worry, we’ll be very polite about it. But they’re gone.” I protested, but Brandon insisted, “You’re family. And family doesn’t let family get walked on by losers.” A week later, Brandon sent a photo of Jake and Maddie loading a U-Haul, supervised by Brandon and Leo. The locks were changed, the house was mine again. “Don’t even ask what happened next,” Brandon texted. “Just know that justice was served, and you never have to think about them again.” I sent my friends Mom’s address, welcoming them to visit, but didn’t ask about Jake or Maddie. I didn’t want to know.
Months passed. I worked, learned to fish and hunt with Mom, and made friends. I finally felt like myself. One day at the docks, I met Nate from Oregon, who was also saving money. We started with coffee, then dinner, long walks, talks about our dreams, weekend hikes, and lazy Sunday breakfasts. Nate was everything Jake wasn’t: hardworking, planned, and he treated me like a partner. Two years later, we bought a house together near the mountains.
I still have a screenshot of our final payment from Mom’s realtor. Every time I see it, I think of Jake on that couch, saying he wasn’t built for Alaska, that he needed to “figure things out.” Turns out, he was right about one thing. Alaska did suit me better. It gave me challenging work, amazing landscapes, supportive friends, and a man who loved me for exactly who I was. I’m grateful for everything that happened.