Chapter 1

After she got pregnant, my wife still insisted on controlling my paycheck.

So every month I quietly held back five thousand.

On the drive home from her prenatal checkup.

She suddenly asked:

"You've been hiding a private stash, haven't you."

"No."

Without a flicker, she pulled out a statement showing three thousand spent at a karaoke lounge.

"We're still five thousand short for the delivery, Leonard Simmons. What exactly are you playing at?"

I clicked my tongue.

"That's my money."

"That's our shared marital property!"

Her eyes went red. "What gives you the right to blow it?"

I stopped the car.

I dragged her out of the passenger seat.

"On the grounds that you're the only person in this house who doesn't earn a cent.

"You said I had no right to spend my own money, right?

"Fine. From now on you pay for everything yourself, out of your own earnings. Including the fare home."

She cupped her belly.

"How am I supposed to earn anything, looking like this?"

"Steal it. Rob someone."

I kept my hand on the wheel.

"Up to you."

……

"You're joking, Leonard. Tell me you're joking."

Maya Roman stepped forward.

I'd already shut the door first.

She stood outside the window, staring at me in a daze.

All the fight from a moment ago had drained out of her, replaced by shock and confusion.

So it turned out that even Maya, a top-tier professional, had a fragile side too.

A strange little rush of satisfaction rose up in me.

I rested one arm on the window.

"If you're so capable, pay for your own cab home.

"If you can't, walk."

"But..."

The car was already moving.

Maya ran a couple of steps after it.

Then she stopped, both hands on her belly.

Face pale, breathing hard.

The next second.

My car came back.

"Leonard!"

Her eyes lit up.

"Forgot one thing."

I rested my hand on the window.

"That maternity dress you're wearing. I bought it."

She froze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what's mine is mine."

The rims of her eyes went red.

The hand clutching the fabric at her belly trembled too.

"You want me to just, out here..."

She couldn't finish.

I nodded.

"But I've got almost nothing on underneath. You want me to strip right here?"

"That's your problem."

"You..."

What was on Maya's face wasn't grief.

It was despair.

In the seven years since I'd known her.

It was the first time I'd ever seen that huge lost look on her.

She was so used to being a force at work and at home.

She'd never realized there'd come a day she'd have to beg someone.

Which was why she'd never left herself any room to fall back on.

The feeling in my chest was hard to describe. Pure satisfaction.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Give it back."

Cars kept passing by.

Every one of them glanced over through the window, curious.

Maya actually started to cry.

"I'll admit I was wrong. Let me back in the car, I'm begging you.

"It's so dark out here, I'm scared..."

"Strip."

She looked at me through her tears.

She'd never seen me this hard before.

She glanced around.

Her eyes landed on a clump of bushes.

After she'd thrown the dress at me, she said, her voice thick:

"Now that you've cooled off, let me back in the car..."

That Maya could even bring herself to say something that low.

I threw her clothes onto the back seat.

And left her with nothing but a cold smile.

The car sped along the highway through the dark.

I couldn't stop the corner of my mouth from lifting.

Maybe I'd gone a little too far this time.

But after this.

She'd finally learn what respect meant.