I used to tell myself I was the only one holding this house together. That he didn’t do anything. Then the hydro bill came in

I used to tell myself I was the only one holding this house together. That he didn’t do anything. Then the hydro bill came in — already paid. The internet kept working, the car insurance renewed, the rent transfer sent on time. None of it asked about, none of it waved in my face. Quiet work that just… kept our lives running. And I almost ignored it again. That’s the version where I keep believing the story in my head — that I’m alone, that he doesn’t care — until one day he stops covering what no one noticed anyway. But then I see the stack of envelopes on the table, each one opened, filed neatly, with receipts tucked inside. The little calendar he keeps by the desk, dates scratched off, payments marked as done. My throat feels tight when I finally say, ‘Hey… thank you for paying the bills, for staying on top of this stuff I don’t even think about. I see it.’ He just nods, doesn’t make it into a moment — but it is one. Because I realize how much I was missing. I use an app called ‘quiet effort.’ It keeps me from overlooking the work that doesn’t show, but holds everything together.