He Told Me We Were Starting a Life in Alaska. Instead, He Was Just Kicking Me Out.
When Jake told me we should move to Alaska to save money and finally start building our future, I said yes without even blinking. I was excited. Alaska meant something new. Something big. A future.
But when I came home from one last fun weekend with my girlfriends, I didn’t walk into a life-changing adventure. I walked into a nightmare.
I’m Chloe. I’m 25. And I thought I had life figured out.
I lived in my mom’s old house in South Carolina. She left it to me when she moved to Alaska after Dad passed away. It was small, but it had charm—wrap-around porch, flower garden, and creaky wooden floors that always smelled like cinnamon in the fall.
I worked from home as a freelance graphic designer. I loved my job. I loved my home. And I loved Jake.
Jake moved in two years into our relationship. At first, it felt like we were playing grown-ups. Movie nights, shared dinners, coffee chats about our dreams. We didn’t even pay rent.
But eventually, it stopped feeling like we were playing house. Because I wasn’t playing—I was carrying the house on my back.
Jake quit his job after saying his boss was “too demanding.”
He’d been unemployed for eight months. Every time I brought it up, I got the same line.
“I’m figuring things out,” he said. “I don’t want just any job. I want something that speaks to me—something I’m passionate about.”
But his days were filled with video games, YouTube rabbit holes about crypto, and hangouts with his other unemployed friends. Meanwhile, I was paying the bills. Groceries, utilities—everything except his car payment.
“You’re so good at handling everything,” he told me once, smiling. “I’m lucky to have someone so organized.”
I told myself it was just a phase. That supporting him was part of love. That he’d get back on track.
Then came the proposal.
I was cooking dinner when Jake suddenly walked up, turned off the stove, and took my hands.
“Chloe,” he said, looking serious. “I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”
My heart skipped.
“I know I don’t have a ring yet, and things aren’t perfect… but I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?”
It wasn’t the proposal I dreamed of. No rose petals. No surprise party. But it was real. From the man I loved. I threw my arms around him.
“Yes! Of course, yes!”
“I’ll get you the most beautiful ring,” he promised. “And the wedding you deserve. I just need to get back on my feet first.”
I believed him. Fully.
A few weeks later, Mom visited from Alaska. She’s a tough, no-nonsense woman who can bake a pie and fix a water heater in the same hour.
Jake opened up to her more than he ever had with me.
“I feel like a failure,” he told her. “Chloe deserves someone who can give her everything. Not… me.”
Mom was quiet but firm.
“Jake, being down doesn’t make you a failure. But staying down? That does.”
“It’s just hard to get ahead here,” he said. “Gas, food, bills… nothing left to save.”
I reached for his hand.
“We’ll figure it out together.”
A week later, Mom called with an idea.
“Put me on speaker,” she said. “I’ve been thinking. What if I told you there’s a place where you can live rent-free, earn real money, and save up for your future?”
Jake raised an eyebrow.
“Sounds too good to be true.”
“It’s not,” Mom said. “It’s Alaska. The work is hard. The winters are brutal. But if you stay with me, no rent, no utilities. Just cover food and your own stuff. You both could save over $50,000 in two years.”
Jake’s eyes lit up.
“Enough for a wedding… and a house.”
“And a ring,” I added, smiling.
“What do you think?” Jake said. “Want to have an adventure?”
“Are you serious? YES!”
We planned our move for three months later. Jake seemed excited. But looking back, his excitement wasn’t about the journey—it was about having a plan that didn’t require him to do anything yet.
I missed the signs. The red flags were right there. But I was too busy dreaming.
Two days before we left, my best friends Sarah and Jessica surprised me.
“You have to come out for a goodbye weekend,” Sarah said. “Spa day, fancy food, one last girls’ trip!”
“But we’re moving in two days,” I hesitated.
“Go,” Jake said. “I’ve got everything under control.”
So I went.
We laughed, gossiped, ate too much, and cried a little. I came home early, excited to spend our final night together.
The Uber dropped me off just after 6 p.m. I had my bag, a box of pralines for Jake, and a head full of stories to tell.
I unlocked the front door.
“Jake! I’m home early!”
But then I saw it.
Boxes. My boxes. All stacked neatly by the door.
None of Jake’s stuff was there. I froze.
“Jake?” I called again.
“Hey, babe,” he said from the living room, totally calm. “How was your trip?”
I walked in.
“What’s going on? Why are my boxes packed? Why aren’t you packed?”
He muted the TV and gave me a strange look—cold. Distant.
“Yeah… about that. I’m not going anymore.”
I blinked. Waited for him to laugh.
“What?”
“I’m not going to Alaska. Changed my mind.”
“But… we bought plane tickets. Mom’s expecting us!”
“You should still go,” he said. “It suits you more. Alaska’s your thing.”
I dropped into a chair, heart pounding.
“Jake… what’s really going on?”
“I just don’t think I’d be happy there. And honestly, you’ve been doing everything anyway. You don’t need me.”
Then he added:
“Look on the bright side—you can cancel the lease.”
“Lease?” I whispered. “This is my mom’s house, Jake. There is no lease.”
“Well,” he said casually, “you can go to court if you want it back. But I’ll be staying here.”
That’s when I heard it—the toilet flush.
And out walked a girl in one of Jake’s t-shirts. Nothing else.
“Oh hi!” she said cheerfully. “You must be Chloe. I’m Maddie.”
I turned to Jake, stunned.
“Jake… who is this?”
“This is Maddie,” he said like we were meeting at a dinner party. “She’s my girlfriend.”
“Your what?”
“Yeah. We met a few weeks ago. She’ll be staying here while you’re in Alaska.”
“So… this whole move was just to get me out so you could move your new girlfriend in?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” he said. “You want to fish and work hard. I want to stay here and figure things out. It’s a win-win.”
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I walked out.
I got a cab and stayed in an airport hotel that night. I stared at the ceiling and tried to breathe.
At midnight, I called Mom.
“Mom,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Jake’s not coming. He used the Alaska plan to get me out. He’s with someone else.”
She was quiet for a second.
“That absolute piece of garbage,” she finally said.
I laughed through my tears.
“Mom, you never swear.”
“I’m making an exception. Are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m flying out tomorrow. Alone.”
“Good. Come home. We’ll figure this out—together.”
I landed in Alaska with one suitcase and a broken heart. But I felt something else, too—relief.
Mom hugged me tighter than she ever had.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “For walking away. For choosing you.”
“I feel stupid,” I admitted. “Three years with him and I didn’t see it.”
“When someone shows you who they are, believe them,” she said. “He showed you he’s a coward. But he also showed you how strong you really are.”
Within a week, I got a job at a fishing company. It was tough work, but I loved it.
Fresh air. Movement. Money. Freedom.
Then my friend Brandon called.
“Chloe, Leo and I are driving down next week.”
“Why?”
“To kick Jake and Maddie out of your house. We’ll be polite. But they’re gone.”
A week later, he sent a photo. Jake and Maddie loading boxes into a U-Haul. Brandon and Leo watching from the porch.
The locks were changed. The house was mine again.
“Justice served,” Brandon texted. “No need to thank us.”
Months passed. I learned to fish and hunt with Mom. I made new friends. I smiled again.
Then one day at the docks, I met Nate.
He was from Oregon. Quiet. Smart. Sweet.
“Want to grab coffee after work?” he asked.
“I’d like that.”
Coffee became dinner. Dinner became long walks. Walks became weekends hiking and cooking pancakes together.
Nate was everything Jake wasn’t. Hardworking. Honest. Kind.
Two years later, we bought a house near the mountains.
I still keep the screenshot of our final mortgage payment. Sometimes I look at it and think about Jake.
He was right about one thing.
Alaska did suit me better.
It gave me purpose. Strength. Peace. And love—real love.
And now, I finally know: I didn’t lose anything the day I walked away from Jake.
I got everything I needed.
