2

The next day.

I had just finished the pregnancy termination surgery that morning. The chill left after the anesthesia wore off crept straight up from my upper thighs, and a deep, heavy pain in my lower abdomen felt like a rusty saw pulling back and forth right at my uterus.

I clutched my stomach and walked out of the master bedroom.

In just half a day, this home had been completely transformed.

On the wall next to the wine cabinet hung a glaring whiteboard, densely populated with the "50/50+ Fair System": all shared expenses split strictly down the middle; housework and labor strictly scored; anyone falling below the passing daily score would face the penalty of severed finances and emotional communication.

Ding—

The phone in my pocket vibrated abruptly. A bill-splitting app popped up a notification: [Chloe has initiated a "Family High-Energy Physics Field Building Dinner". Your amount due is: $850.]

With a dark expression, I walked to the dining room.

Leftovers and cold scraps just delivered from a Michelin-starred restaurant were strewn across the long table—white truffle pasta, top-tier caviar, and two mostly empty bottles of Romanée-Conti.

"You're out just in time." Wearing a silk fringed slip dress, Chloe swirled her wine glass, acting very much like the lady of the house. "Settle the bill."

"I didn't eat, and I'm not paying this ridiculous charge." My face was ghastly.

"Ethan, see, this is a classic predator defense mechanism." Chloe set down her glass and smoothly opened the silver-stamped scorecard. "She thinks that as long as it didn't go into her own mouth, she doesn't have to take responsibility. She's measuring your relationship in absolute monetary figures. The moment you stop your bottomless financial support, she shows this kind of aggression."

Ethan sat at the head of the table. He put down his silver cutlery, his gaze full of scrutiny as he looked at me.

"Don't be fooled by her past disguise." Chloe stood up and walked behind Ethan, resting her hands naturally on his shoulders, her voice soft as warm water. "Think back. She endured hardship with you in the past, ate discounted, expired bread—that wasn't for love, but a precise 'early-stage venture capital move'. Women believe that if they suffer with a man early on, they can spend his money boundlessly later; and essentially, that is just a form of gold-digging."

"For the sake of your marriage, you must harden your heart and cut her off!"

Yet Ethan actually listened to this twisted logic.

"Go wash the dishes." Ethan wiped his mouth, his voice cold. "Remember, after you wash them, calculate your 50% share of the dish soap and hot water consumed, and log it into the App. Your score for today is already failing."

I froze in place, my fingernails nearly digging into the flesh of my palms.

During that bitter New York winter five years ago, our rented apartment was less than one-tenth the size of this place.

The water heater broke, and I washed dishes in freezing water for days, developing cracked chilblains on my hands.

When he came home from work that day, his eyes turned red, and he shoved my hands into his coat, holding them tightly to warm them.

He had choked back tears and said, "Elena, when I finally make it, we'll buy the biggest dishwasher and hire the best maid. I will absolutely, absolutely never let your hands touch a drop of dish soap again."

And now, just because of a few words from another woman, he was ordering me to clean up his and that other woman's leftovers.

Without a word, I walked into the kitchen and turned on the faucet.

The icy water rushed over my fingers, biting with cold, but I felt nothing. I simply decided in my heart that I would ask Ethan for a divorce tomorrow.

Whether he had truly been brainwashed or simply didn't want me spending his money anymore, I didn't care. What use was a husband who listened to other women just to bully me?

Right at that moment, my phone vibrated. The caller ID showed it was my father.

I wiped my hands hastily on my apron and pressed answer.

"Elena..." my father's voice was hoarse.

"Dad, what's wrong?" My throat felt painfully tight.

"Your mother's heart suddenly acted up, but on top of what health insurance covers, we are still short $120,000 for the surgery..." My father paused, his breathing heavy. "If things are difficult for you over there... then never mind, Dad will just swallow his pride and go beg others."

"How short are you?" I gripped the edge of the stainless steel sink tightly.

"$120,000."

This string of numbers hit my eardrums so hard that my knees gave out, and I nearly knelt onto the floor tiles.

I hung up the phone. I forgot to turn off the faucet, but the rushing water couldn't drown out my body's trembling.

Yesterday, I couldn't even scrounge up the ten thousand dollars to save my baby, personally sending my child away; now, I was facing a $110,000 lifesaver need for my mother.

I closed my eyes, forcefully swallowing the humiliation along with the taste of blood in my mouth.

If dignity could be traded for cash, I'd willingly tear it to pieces and trample it under my feet right now.

I was Ethan's legal wife, having accompanied him as he built everything from nothing as a poor boy. Even if he didn't want to give me money, for the sake of my mother's life, I had to bite the bullet and beg him.

I took off the apron and dragged my cold-sweat-drenched body toward the living room.

"Ethan, I need..."

The words choked off deep in my throat, and even my breathing suddenly completely stopped.

The main lights in the living room were turned off, leaving only a dim, ambiguous floor lamp.

Chloe had, at some unknown point, leaned tightly against Ethan's shoulder, her long hair spilling carelessly over his suit collar.

Ethan's head was tilted back slightly, holding a gold Montblanc pen in his hand, having just finished signing a check.

"A cashier's check for 150,000, outside the corporate account," Ethan's voice was low and hoarse. "Consider it supplemental consultation fees for this phase."

Chloe chuckled softly, her fingertips lightly brushing over the back of Ethan's hand. She slipped the check away, then effortlessly trailed small circles lightly on his chest.

"Worth every penny, isn't it?" she breathed near his ear.

I stood in the shadows just a few steps away, watching this scene that bordered right on infidelity.

That sum, enough to buy my mother's life, now looked like a mere flirtatious slip of paper, shoved into the hands of a woman who had driven me to a dead end.

A harsh spasm suddenly seized deep in my lower abdomen, and a suffocating rush of fury shot straight to the top of my head. My legs gave out, and I slumped heavily against the cold wall.