Part 2Family KPI System

I walked into the study, my fingers tracing the spines of the thick, logbook-like journals on the shelf. Each one was embossed with gold lettering: The Miller Household: Annual Operations Report.

Mark's masterpiece.

I opened the first volume. On the flyleaf, in his bold, confident script, were the words: To my Nina: Love is something you do, not something you say. I promise you, every ounce of your effort will be recorded and cherished, never in vain.

The date was the first day of our marriage.

"Nina," he had said, "traditional marriage is too vague, too full of emotional arguments. We're a modern couple. We need a more scientific, more efficient way to run our home."

"This KPI assessment will be the bedrock of our marriage. It will translate all your labor into tangible value. I guarantee you can redeem your points for anything you want, anytime."

Back then, I was captivated by the future he painted. I thought this was his way of loving me—meticulous, serious, unique. So I began to document my every chore with the dedication of a research scientist. The densely packed pages were a record of my youth, quantified.

I thought I was accumulating proof of our love. It turns out I was just filling out an unpaid labor contract.

I opened my phone and scrolled through my chat history with Mark. The last message was from three days ago, a reminder from me to pay the homeowners' association fee. His reply was a cold, one-word "OK." Scrolling up, it was an endless stream of my detailed reports and his brief, directive responses.

And his chat with Zoe? I had accidentally seen it on his computer once. He replied thoughtfully to every silly photo of a cat or dog she sent. He patiently played along with every one of her bad jokes. When she complained about work being hard, he would transfer her a huge sum of money without a second thought.

His warmth, his patience, his generosity—they all existed. They just weren't for me.

The ringing of my phone startled me. It was Mark's assistant.

"Mrs. Miller, do you know where Mark is? There's an urgent case at the firm, and his phone is going straight to voicemail."

Whenever he was with Zoe, Mark's phone was on silent. Worried it was something important, I grabbed my car keys. "I'll go find him. Don't worry."

I had just parked when I saw them. Mark, Zoe, and his best friend, Leo, were walking out of a high-end restaurant, laughing. Zoe was clinging to Mark's arm affectionately.

"Zoe, you've got some serious pull," Leo joked. "Getting our star lawyer to ditch his own wedding anniversary for you."

Zoe giggled, practically draping herself over Mark. "What's Nina? She's just a free maid. It was my idea, you know. I told him to set up that stupid KPI thing. And she actually fell for it, slaving away to earn points. She's such an idiot."

Leo roared with laughter. "An idiot is right. Who else would marry him with no dowry, not even a proper wedding?"

Their words were like poisoned needles, stabbing into my heart. Just as I was about to storm out, Leo asked Mark, "Seriously, man. What did you ever see in her?"

I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

Mark's voice cut through the frigid air, each word a shard of ice piercing my soul.

"Obedient. Free."

I stood frozen, a dull, aching pain spreading from my chest. Zoe, clearly delighted with his answer, pressed even closer. "Mark, if I hadn't gone abroad in a huff back then, you wouldn't have married her, would you?"

Mark was silent for a moment. He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a softness I had never seen. "Zoe, you deserve to be free. To have your own dreams and a career. I didn't want you to be trapped in a home by me."

A roar filled my ears. The last thread of my sanity snapped.

Three years ago, I had just received a translation offer from a major corporation. My future was bright. Mark proposed. He said he needed a stable home and hoped I would quit my demanding job for him.