When Jake said, “Let’s move to Alaska to save money and build our future,” I didn’t even think twice. I said, “Yes!” just like that.
But after a quick goodbye trip with my girlfriends, I came home and found something that shattered my whole world.
Hi, I’m Chloe. I’m 25, and I thought I had my life all figured out.
I lived in my mom’s old house in South Carolina—a small, cozy place with a wrap-around porch and a garden she used to love before she moved to Alaska five years ago. I worked from home as a freelance graphic designer. Life was peaceful.
Jake moved in with me two years after we started dating. At first, it was like we were playing house—in the best way. We made dinner together, had movie nights, and dreamed about our future over morning coffee. Best part? No rent.
But over time, it stopped feeling like “playing house” and started feeling like I was carrying the whole house on my back.
Jake had quit his job at a marketing firm, saying his boss was “too demanding.” That was eight months ago. Since then, he was living off his savings—and my income.
“I’m figuring things out,” he’d say. “I just don’t want to take any job. I want something I’m passionate about.”
While he watched YouTube and played video games all day, I paid for everything—groceries, bills, internet. The only thing Jake still paid for was his car.
“You’re amazing at taking care of things,” he’d tell me. “I’m lucky to have you.”
I kept telling myself it was just temporary. Love means sticking it out through tough times, right?
Then one night, while I was making dinner, Jake came over, took my hands, turned off the stove, and said, “Chloe, I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”
My heart stopped. Was he really proposing?
“I don’t have a ring yet,” he added, “but I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?”
It wasn’t fancy or planned, but I loved him. I smiled, threw my arms around him and said, “Yes! Of course, yes!”
“I’ll get you the most beautiful ring,” he promised. “I just need to get back on my feet first.”
A few weeks later, my mom came to visit from Alaska. She’s tough, smart, and can fix anything—pipes, pies, broken hearts. Over dinner, Jake surprised me by opening up to her.
“I feel like a failure,” he said. “Chloe deserves someone better… someone who can actually buy her a ring.”
Mom listened and said, “Being down doesn’t make you a failure, Jake. But staying down does.”
Jake sighed. “It’s just hard to save anything here. Everything’s so expensive.”
I squeezed his hand and said, “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
A week after Mom flew home, she called.
“Chloe, I have an idea,” she said. “Put me on speaker.”
Jake sat next to me on the couch.
“What if I told you there’s a place where you can live rent-free, save tons of money, and build your future in two years?” she asked.
Jake blinked. “That sounds way too good to be true.”
“It’s not easy,” she warned. “It’s Alaska. It’s cold. It’s dark. The work is tough. But up here, people make real money. And if you lived with me, you’d pay no rent or utilities. Just food and whatever else you need.”
I smiled. “I’ve worked in Alaska before. I loved it.”
Mom added, “You can handle it. Both of you can.”
Jake asked, “How much money are we talking?”
“If you both work the fishing season and take winter jobs, you could each save $50,000 in two years. Maybe more.”
Jake’s eyes lit up. “That’s enough for a wedding… a down payment on a house.”
“And a ring,” I grinned.
Jake turned to me and said, “Want to have an adventure?”
“Are you serious?” I jumped off the couch. “YES!”
We planned to leave in three months. Jake talked nonstop about how this would change everything. I didn’t realize his excitement was just relief—not real commitment.
But I missed the red flags. I was too busy dreaming.
Two days before we left, my best friends Sarah and Jessica took me on a goodbye weekend.
“This might be the last time we see you for years,” Sarah said. “You have to come.”
Jake told me, “Go have fun with your girls. I’ve got everything here.”
So we drove to Charleston for spa days, fancy dinners, and deep talks. It was the perfect sendoff.
I flew back early to surprise Jake and spend one last evening together. I walked up to the house at 6 p.m., smiling with excitement, holding my weekend bag and a box of pralines for him.
I unlocked the door and walked in.
“Jake! I’m home early!”
Then I froze.
My boxes—all of them—were stacked neatly by the door.
Only mine. None of Jake’s things were packed.
“Jake?” I called.
“Hey babe,” he said casually from the living room, like nothing was wrong. “How was your trip?”
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why are my boxes packed? And where’s your stuff?”
He muted the TV and looked at me like I was some random neighbor.
“Yeah, about that… I’m not going anymore.”
“What?”
“I changed my mind. Alaska’s not for me.”
“We leave tomorrow!” I said. “We bought tickets. Mom’s expecting us!”
“You can still go,” he said. “It suits you better anyway.”
I sat down, stunned. “Jake, what happened?”
“Look,” he said, “I’m not built for that life. You are. Go chase your dream. I need to figure out my own stuff here.”
“So you’re just… done?”
“I’m being realistic,” he said. “Oh—and since you’re leaving, I’ll just stay here.”
“This is my mom’s house, Jake. There’s no lease.”
“You can go to court if you want it back.”
Then—flush.
A toilet. The bathroom door opened.
And out walked a girl. She was wearing one of Jake’s t-shirts—and nothing else.
She smiled and said, “Hi! You must be Chloe. I’m Maddie.”
I turned to Jake. He didn’t even blink.
“She’s my girlfriend now,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“We met a few weeks ago. She’s staying here while you’re in Alaska.”
“So this whole Alaska plan… was just to get me out?”
He had the nerve to roll his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. We want different things. It’s a win-win.”
I picked up my bag, walked out, and got a cab to the airport.
At midnight, I called Mom.
“Chloe? Are you okay?”
“Jake’s not coming. He’s with someone else. He used the Alaska plan to move his girlfriend into my house.”
Long silence. Then: “That absolute piece of garbage.”
“Mom,” I laughed through tears. “You never swear.”
“I’m making an exception. Come home, sweetheart.”
I flew to Alaska the next morning with one suitcase and a broken heart. But for the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.
Mom hugged me tight at the airport.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “For leaving. For coming here. For choosing yourself.”
“I feel like a fool,” I whispered. “Three years, and I didn’t see it coming.”
“When someone shows you who they are, believe them,” she said. “Jake showed you he’s a coward. But he also showed you how strong you are.”
She was right.
I started working at a fishing operation. The job was hard, cold, and intense—but I loved it. I felt alive again.
Two weeks later, my friend Brandon called.
“Chloe, Leo and I are driving to South Carolina next week. We’re taking care of your Jake problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re kicking him and Maddie out. Nicely. But they’re gone.”
A week later, Brandon texted me a picture of Jake and Maddie loading a U-Haul while he and Leo stood on the porch, arms crossed.
The locks were changed. The house was mine again.
“Don’t ask what happened next,” Brandon wrote. “Just know justice was served.”
I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to know.
Months passed. I worked, fished, hunted with Mom, and made new friends. Slowly, I healed.
Then one day on the docks, I met Nate.
He was quiet, kind, and from Oregon. He was working hard to save money for his own house.
After weeks of talking, he asked, “Want to grab coffee after work?”
“I’d like that,” I smiled.
Coffee turned into dinner. Dinner into long hikes. Then lazy mornings making breakfast together.
Nate was everything Jake wasn’t. Reliable. Loving. Real.
Two years later, Nate and I bought a house near the mountains.
Sometimes I look at the screenshot of our final payment and smile. I think about Jake, sitting on that couch, saying he “wasn’t built for Alaska.”
And I smile even bigger.
Because it turns out, he was right.
Alaska was made for me.
It gave me hard work, deep friendships, wild beauty—and a new life I never saw coming. And I’ll always be grateful for the man who let me go.
Because it gave me the chance to finally choose myself.