My chest heaved with fury, and finally, a laugh escaped my lips—a laugh tinged with bitterness and sorrow.
In our past life, before the divorce, he had always been generous with money.
Whatever I wanted to buy, he never hesitated.
But I never asked for much, just a small gift on special occasions to serve as a memento of our time together.
I used to give him gifts, too, but he never accepted them. So I started cooking for him instead. For every gift he gave me, I’d prepare an elaborate, gourmet meal.
I thought it was just a sweet, normal part of being a couple. I never imagined that in his eyes, I was nothing more than a gold digger.
He bought me things the way you’d toss a treat to a dog to keep it from bothering you. There was no heart in it.
Even with the knowledge of a past life, the sting was sharp. I bit down hard.
“Listen carefully, Steven. Your damn money means less than nothing to me. If I hadn’t become a housewife for you, I would have never needed to ask you for a cent.”
“Since we obviously can’t stand each other, let’s just cut the crap. I can’t take another day of this humiliating life. Let’s get the divorce over with, and then we can stay out of each other’s lives forever!”
“And from now on, even if I’m starving to death on the street, I will never ask you for a single penny!”
With every word I spoke, Steven’s expression grew darker. The hands hanging at his sides were clenched so tightly I could hear the joints cracking.
I began to strip off every piece of jewelry I was wearing. I took off my jacket, kicked off my shoes, and threw them all on the floor in front of him, one by one.
Steven’s face turned ashen. “What are you doing?”
I looked up at him, my voice dripping with sarcasm.


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