Chapter 1

After we got married, my wife went to the night market to run a stall and support us, while I stayed home sprawled on the couch bingeing shows and playing games.

She'd come home wrung out, and before she could even get a sip of water down, I'd bark at her like I was giving an order: "Go fill a basin with hot water. Wash my feet."

All she did was cry, quiet and wronged. "Douglas Dickerson, I married you without asking for a single cent of a dowry. I never made you buy a car or a house. Can't you just treat me a little better?"

I shot her a cold look. "Myra Jennings, a girl with your prospects landing a guy like me? That's your ancestors' graves smoking good luck, you get it? If you don't want to serve me, then leave!"

Myra went silent at once, obediently fetched the water, and scrubbed my feet while wiping away her tears.

I didn't feel a thing for her.

I only thought she had it coming.

1

After she finished washing my feet, Myra hesitated, then said she still hadn't had dinner and asked if she could order some takeout for herself. Just a ten-dollar box of fried rice would do.

The payment code she used at her stall was mine. She didn't have a cent on her, so if she wanted to eat, she had to ask me.

I frowned. "Order takeout? What a waste of money. Isn't there instant noodles in the kitchen? Go cook them yourself."

Myra opened her mouth, then closed it, and went quietly to the kitchen to cook a pack of instant noodles. She didn't dare even add an egg, choking it down with her tears.

I didn't pity her.

Looking at the two thousand dollars in the balance, the money she'd made at the stall today, I sent a voice message to my buddy Jeremy Pruitt.

"Come on, let's go grab some late-night eats and hit up karaoke. My treat!"

Jeremy tried to talk me down. "Man, quit acting up. Your wife's out there at the crack of dawn till late, busting herself to earn a little money. Just live right, would you?"

I said impatiently, "What's with all the nagging? You don't come, I'll just call some girl to keep me company!"

Jeremy started lecturing me. "Bro, you've gone too far. Your wife's got the looks, she's got the figure, and she's still willing to work to support you. You keep acting like this, you trying to get divorced and end up a bachelor?"

I gave a cold laugh. "If you really think Myra's such a catch, I'll divorce her and let her be with you, how about that?"

Jeremy cursed me out, said I was sick in the head, said he wouldn't be brothers with a piece of trash with values like mine anymore.

Fed up, I took it out on Myra, who was still sipping her instant noodle broth. "You bitch! Because of you, I fell out with my brother. What a jinx!"

Myra pressed her lips together and didn't dare talk back, her face all innocent and pitiful.

"Just looking at you pisses me off!"

I couldn't be bothered to give her another glance. I got dressed and got ready to go out and have a good time on my own.

"Douglas…"

Myra called out to stop me.

I turned around, irritated. "Spit it out!"

Myra bit her lip and said in a pleading tone, "The stock's all sold out. I have to restock tomorrow. Can you skip going out tonight?"

That reason worked. It stopped me.

If she screwed up the restocking, she wouldn't be able to run the stall and make money for me.

"Next time you're restocking, say so ahead of time. Don't hold up my real business."

Grudgingly, I gave up on going out to enjoy myself, then added, still sour, "You're sleeping on the couch tonight. Don't come near me."

With that I slammed the bedroom door shut.

Didn't even hand her a blanket.

But I didn't feel the least bit guilty.

She'd brought all of this on herself.