At 44, I sometimes caught myself staring at old photographs, wondering how life had taken such unexpected turns. Fifteen years ago, Diane and I had what I believed was an unbreakable bond. Nine years of marriage, but 12 years together.

We were happy.

Then came the twins, Olivia and Sophia. Their arrival should have been the happiest part of our lives. I remember Diane's smile as she held them that first day. But something changed after we brought them home.

Diane had always been vibrant. Before the twins, she worked downtown and seemed to thrive on deadlines and office politics. She made more money than I did, and I was always proud of her for it.

But after the girls were born, she became someone I barely recognized.

"I hate this," she snapped one morning in our kitchen. The twins were crying in their cribs, dishes were piled in the sink, and she hadn't showered in days. "I'm stuck in this house all day, and my career is going down the drain."

I tried to comfort her. "It's maternity leave, baby. Temporary. The girls will be in school before you know it."

"No!" she said, slamming her coffee mug down. "This isn't working. I can't be a stay-at-home mom. It's not me!"

"Okay, we can look into childcare for the twins," I suggested. "A daycare center or a nanny."

Diane shook her head. "That's not what I want either. You need to do it. You should be the stay-at-home parent."

"But my job—"

"Pays less than mine," she cut in. "I'm the breadwinner, Tyler. My career has always been more important. You'll be happier doing this than I am. You like the suburbs. I'm a city person."

It wasn't quite true. But Diane made it seem like staying home with our daughters was the only logical choice for me.

To keep the peace in our household, I became a stay-at-home dad back then. I found joy in watching Olivia and Sophia grow, with their different personalities emerging day by day.

I thought this would fix my wife's melancholy and bring back the vibrant woman I'd married. But as time passed, Diane worked longer hours and came home later. We barely spoke except about household logistics.

And she barely cared about our girls.