When Jake suggested we move to Alaska to save money and build our future, I said yes without hesitation. We had a plan — two years working hard, saving up, and finally starting the life we dreamed about. I even went on a quick goodbye weekend with my girlfriends, excited about our next chapter. But when I came home early, everything changed.
My name is Chloe. I was 25, living in my mom’s old South Carolina house, supporting Jake while he “figured things out.” He hadn’t worked in months, but I believed in him — enough to move across the country. What I didn’t know was that Jake had been planning something entirely different behind my back.
When I walked through the door, I found my things packed and stacked by the entrance. Jake was calm, sitting on the couch like nothing was wrong. Then, a girl I’d never seen before walked out of the bathroom wearing his T-shirt. Her name was Maddie — his new girlfriend. He looked me in the eye and said, “I’m not going to Alaska. It’s not for me.”
Heartbroken, I flew to Alaska alone and moved in with my mom. Within a week, I found work on a fishing boat. It was tough, but it felt right. My friends back home kicked Jake and Maddie out of my house, and I never looked back.
Two years later, I was debt-free, in love with a kind man named Nate, and living in a cozy home near the mountains. Alaska didn’t just save me — it gave me everything I never knew I needed.
