Chapter 2

"And what gave you the right to transfer my money to another woman?" I stood up, my voice just as loud as his.

"Five thousand two hundred dollars, Ethan. I have to work two weeks straight to make that much. The day you sent her that money, I bought a bulk box of instant ramen.”

“You said the stream background looked bad and needed new lighting, so I starved myself to buy those lights for you!"

"That was your choice! I never asked you to starve!"

Those words felt like a knife plunging straight into my chest.

I froze.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, I never asked you to do that." His face was cold, his voice completely devoid of warmth.

"You chose to be cheap. You chose to work two jobs. You chose to spend your money on me. Did I force you? Did I put a gun to your head?"

My mouth hung open, but no words came out.

Because he was right.

He didn't force me. I did it willingly. I was the idiot. I was the fool who tore my own heart out and handed it to him.

When he complained it was too hot, I even blew on it to cool it down before giving it back.

"Chloe, stop acting like the whole world owes you something," he said, sitting back down and crossing his legs.

"Did I ask you to do any of that? You insisted on playing the martyr, the 'perfect supportive wife.' And now you’re turning around and blaming me?"

"I’m not blaming—"

"You aren't? Then why go through my phone? Why check my logs? You just wanted to find something to use against me, didn't you? You just wanted to prove that I'm the bad guy!"

His logic made my head spin.

He was the one flirting with another woman. He was the one spending my hard-earned money to pamper someone else. Yet somehow, I was the one in the wrong?

"Ethan, what exactly is your relationship with Serena?"

"We're just friends."

"Friends you send five thousand dollars to?"

"She was going through a rough patch and needed cash. I helped a friend out. What's wrong with that?"

"Her family drama is none of your business!"

"Chloe!" He slammed his hand on the desk.

"Can you stop being so petty? I helped a friend. Do you have zero trust in me?"

"And saving one hundred and thirty-seven photos of her is also just being 'friends'?"

His face went stiff for a split second.

"One hundred and thirty-seven photos, Ethan.

The oldest one was saved three years ago, a month before our wedding.

While you were saving her pictures, our wedding invitations were sitting right next to your computer.

You wrote them by hand. I watched you write them."

He stayed silent for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh.

"Chloe, are you insane? It’s just a few pictures. It's not like I slept with her."

He stood up, towering over me. "I swear, Chloe, I hate this about you. Always snooping, checking logs, calculating every single penny you spent on me.”

“If you hated spending the money, you should've said so. Don't pay for things and then keep a tally, acting like this marriage is some kind of business transaction."

"I didn't keep a tally—"

"You didn't? Then how do you know exactly how many photos I saved? How do you know how many times I sent her money?”

“ You are keeping a tally! You've been calculating against me since day one of our marriage!"

The air in my chest felt tight, suffocating.

Calculating against him?

Me?

I worked two jobs every single day, so exhausted that I would fall asleep standing up on the subway. Was I calculating?

I wiped out my entire three-year savings to pay off his credit card debt. Was I calculating?

When his parents got sick, I was the one running around the hospital and paying their medical bills. Was I calculating?