Marcus age 39, Overworked and underpaid Salaryman

To say life was dull for Marcus Quarrel would be an improvement. Dullness implied a lack of stress. His life was anything but peaceful.

He was trapped in a dead-end job that could vanish at any moment thanks to ever-changing office politics and unrealistic initiatives from upper management. The hours were brutal, mandatory overtime was predatory, and the project schedules were so absurd that they would require an office full of supercomputers rather than human employees to actually complete on time.

Worse still, paychecks were frequently delayed. The company seemed almost resentful of paying its staff and only ever delivered promised bonuses to upper and middle management. Marcus had long since stopped trying to figure out how they got away with it, despite the issue being reported countless times over the years.

If his work life was miserable, his home life was even worse.

As a young man, Marcus had never received much attention from women his age, and that trend continued well into his twenties. Eleven years ago, he met Belinda, a woman about a year older than him. She was the first person to show him real interest. They bonded over similar hobbies and enjoyed each other’s company, so they started dating. Three years later, they moved in together to afford a better apartment closer to their jobs. Two years after that, they got married. For the first few years, things were good.

Then, about three years ago, Belinda received a major promotion. Her salary nearly doubled his almost overnight. For some reason, that success only bred resentment in her. She started taking it out on him, even though he worked longer and far more gruelling hours. Suddenly he was expected to handle every household chore and organize their entire home life, tasks Belinda had never done herself, something she conveniently liked to forget.

She started picking fights, throwing things, and going out with friends on important dates just to “get back at him.” At forty years old, Belinda wasn’t exactly subtle about cheating. She would stumble home early on Sunday or Monday mornings, reeking of sex and someone else’s cologne.

When Marcus tried to address her constant nights out and the fact that he still paid most of the bills, she accused him of being controlling and weaponizing traditional gender roles. She claimed he was insecure about her success and that asking her to pull her weight around the house was emotional labour **** and toxic masculinity. He was sick of it. He knew someday soon he was going to snap, either with a full breakdown or an explosive meltdown.

That breaking point felt dangerously close when he realized his wedding ring was missing at work. Even though Belinda treated him more like an inconvenience than a husband these days, he knew she would lose her mind if he came home without the ring she had bought him.

The ring itself was nothing special — a simple silver band with a dull, milky stone. Looking back, it felt cheap, perhaps an honest reflection of how little value Belinda had placed on their marriage.

After splashing water on his face in the men’s restroom, Marcus returned to his desk and froze. His ring was sitting there, along with a small handwritten note:

Sorry, mistook your ring for mine and accidentally took it. Realized I had the wrong one. Here’s a replacement. It should look the same, but… be careful what you say and who hears you.

Marcus picked up the ring and examined it. It looked identical to his old one. He glanced around the office, trying to figure out who could have written the note. He knew everyone’s handwriting on this floor well enough to rule them out. Shaking his head and muttering about being pranked, he slipped the ring onto his finger and went back to work, grumbling incoherently under his breath.