On the exact day of my birthday, my wife spent a million dollars chartering a private yacht to celebrate her male secretary’s very first closed deal. She even posted a picture on her Instagram Story with the caption: *“As expected of the man I handpicked myself! A hundred times better than the useless slacker I have at home.”* I tapped the heart icon and commented, “You’re absolutely right.” The next second, the post vanished into thin air. My phone rang immediately. It was Clara, her voice dripping with rage. “Ethan, can you stop being so damn passive-aggressive?” “I’m just rewarding my employee for bringing in a million-dollar project. You always have to ruin the mood, don’t you?” Later that night, her secretary, Julian, changed his Instagram profile picture. It was a photo of him and Clara, locked in a tight embrace on the yacht’s deck. If this had happened in the past, I would have thrown a fit, begging Clara for an explanation. But this time, I simply sent her a billing invoice: *“The yacht charter costs three million a night. Venmo or PayPal?”* 0
Clara didn’t crawl back home until three in the morning, holding a container of greasy leftovers. As she stumbled toward me, the heavy scent of men’s cologne rushed into my nose, making me wince. Before I could even react, she tripped and collapsed onto me on the couch. The greasy soup from the leftovers spilled all over my white button-down shirt. “Ethan, I just treated my staff to dinner. Was it really necessary to make such a big deal out of it?” “Demanding three million dollars the moment I walk in… are you starving, or have you just never seen real money before?” “To put it nicely, you’re a stay-at-home husband. To put it bluntly, you’re just a parasite living off me. What gives you the right to control me?” This shirt was a gift she gave me on our third anniversary. Now, soaked in grease, it was completely ruined. Just like our marriage. It was finally at its end. Yesterday was my birthday. Clara had promised to celebrate with me, but instead, she spent millions throwing a grand party for another man. No explanation. No apology. Just blaming me for being unreasonable. In the past, seeing her this angry would have made me drop to my knees and apologize. In front of Clara, there was no right or wrong. Everything depended on her mood. I loved her, so I tolerated her. But my patience only brought more disrespect, as she pushed my boundaries over and over again. The thought of it sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t even want to argue anymore. I stood up silently, walked over to the trash can, and pulled off the stained shirt, tossing it inside. “Why are you dressed up so formally anyway? Where did you go?” “You do nothing all day but drink with your useless friends.” “Why can’t you be more like Julian? Why can’t you actually help me with my business?” Clara used the sofa to steady herself as she stood up. She caught sight of the untouched dinner on the dining table and frowned. She had been so lost in her sweet moments with Julian that she had completely forgotten it was my birthday. “I didn’t go out. I’ve been waiting for you at home all day.” Hearing my answer, Clara’s temper flared instantly. She marched over and slapped me right across the face. *Smack!* “What is up with that attitude, Ethan?” She poked her index finger hard against my chest. “Who pays for your food, your clothes, your shelter? Me! Without me, you’d be sleeping on the streets! Now you’ve grown some balls, huh? You think you can talk back to me?” “Julian closed a five-million-dollar deal with one call. You? All you do is ask for food, drinks, and money! If I don’t celebrate his success, should I be celebrating your laziness instead?” She was getting more and more hysterical. I brushed her hand off my chest and asked calmly, “Did you forget what you promised me yesterday?” Clara froze, her anger pausing for a fraction of a second. “What did I promise you?” My heart sank. I let out a bitter laugh. “Never mind. It wasn’t anything important.” She forgot. Of course she did. I should have known. Clara only had eyes for Julian now. There was no room left for me. Seeing my dejected look, something seemed to click in her mind. She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. The next second, a notification popped up on my phone. *You received $1,000 via PayPal.* “It’s just a birthday. What’s the big deal?” Clara scoffed. “At the end of the day, you just want money and gifts. There, I sent it. Stop acting like a pathetic, clingy wife begging for attention!” With that, she turned on her high heels and slammed the bedroom door behind her. I stared at her closed door, a deep, quiet coldness settling in my eyes. ### 0
I spent the night alone in the study. When I came out the next morning, Clara had actually prepared breakfast. On the dining table sat a fresh mango smoothie and some toast. My gaze darkened. We had been married for three years, and she didn’t even know I was severely allergic to mangoes. “Hurry up and eat,” she said, packing a beautifully arranged bento box into a thermal bag. I looked at her hands, not making a move. Once she finished packing, she noticed me standing still. Her face immediately turned sour. “I woke up early to make this for you, and you won’t even touch it?” “I bust my ass working outside all day, and when I come home to take care of you, this is the attitude I get? Ethan, do you really think you’re some king who needs to be served on a silver platter?” She woke up early to buy me breakfast? What a joke. I hadn’t even taken a bite, yet she was already acting like she deserved a medal. It was pathetic. Perhaps my flat reaction made her uncomfortable. After all, in the past, even if she just handed me a fork at dinner, I would shower her with praise for hours. In our three years of marriage, this was the very first time Clara had ever made me breakfast. Usually, I was the one who woke up hours early to make her favorite lunches for work. “You need to learn to be grateful. I made you breakfast. What more do you want?” Tired of her nagging, I picked up a piece of toast and took a small bite. “I made that smoothie myself. Drink it.” I stared at the mango smoothie, then pushed it aside. “I’d rather have some oatmeal.” Clara’s face contorted instantly. “You’re lucky to have anything to eat at all, and yet you’re being picky.” She rolled her eyes, swept everything on the table straight into the trash can, and marched into the bedroom to change. The toast had mango spread on it. Fearing an allergic reaction, I immediately grabbed my phone to schedule an emergency appointment at the clinic. While doing so, a notification popped up. Julian had updated his Instagram. The photo showed an IV drip in a hospital room. The caption read: *“Sick and feeling miserable. The medicine is so bitter… I really wish I could taste your delicious homemade lunch right now! 🥺”* I laughed at myself. And here I thought she had made breakfast out of guilt for forgetting my birthday. It turned out she only woke up early to cook a meal for another man. She cooked for him, and bought trashy takeout toast for me. Who truly mattered to her was glaringly obvious. Just then, Clara walked out of the bedroom. I locked my phone and followed her. “I need to go to the clinic. Let’s go together.” The moment she heard this, Clara’s face twisted with rage. “Did you go through my phone while I was changing? Can we have some fucking privacy? Are you a three-year-old child? Do you have to follow me everywhere? Aren’t you embarrassed?” I knew she had misunderstood. Two months ago, a business partner invited me to a dinner at a famous local restaurant. Coincidentally, I ran into Clara having a romantic candlelit dinner with Julian. She assumed I was stalking her. Since that day, she kept her entire schedule a secret from me. I tried to explain back then, but she refused to listen. “I’m not trying to follow you. It’s just convenient,” I said calmly. “Your secretary is hospitalized. As his boss, it’s only natural for you to visit him.” Clara’s expression softened slightly. “Yes, I have to visit him. After all, he just brought in a multi-million-dollar deal for the company.” “Unlike you. You can’t do anything right. You can’t even drive a decent car.” She never missed an opportunity to belittle me, yet she didn’t even bother to ask why I was going to the clinic. Once we got into the car and started the engine, Clara’s phone rang again. It was her assistant. “Ms. Vance, there’s an important video conference at 9:30 AM. When will you arrive at the office?” Clara glanced at her phone. Julian must have sent her a text. She looked torn. Suddenly, she slammed on the brakes, pulled over, and shoved a thick stack of documents into my lap. “This meeting is extremely important, but I’ve highlighted all the key points. You can at least read from a script, right?” She knew the meeting was crucial, yet she was willing to ditch it just to be with Julian. Seeing my lack of response, Clara continued, “It won’t take much of your time. I’ll pick you up from the office soon.” Without waiting for my consent, she reached over, unlocked the passenger door, and pushed me out of the car. I had no choice but to call an Uber to her office. On the way, my skin started itching intensely, and tiny red hives began to break out across my arms. After handing the documents to her assistant, I rushed straight to the hospital. After getting an IV drip and a few boxes of allergy medication, I finally went home. Throughout the entire process, Clara didn’t call me once. When I opened my phone, the first thing I saw was Julian’s new Instagram post. The picture was Clara personally spoon-feeding him soup in his hospital bed. I looked at the pile of pills on my table and found it incredibly hilarious. Just as I was about to head to the bedroom to rest, the front door was kicked open with brutal force. Before I could even process what was happening, Clara stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. “Ethan! Can’t you do one simple thing right?” “You dropped off the files and just left! You left the clients sitting there waiting! Did you expect them to hold a meeting with thin air?” “I had to rush back to the office to clean up your mess! And you? You just vanished without a word!” ### 0
I looked at the furious Clara, completely speechless. Yes, I didn’t stay for the video conference, but I had explained everything to her assistant before I left. I refused to believe that her executive assistant couldn’t handle a simple reading task. My allergic reaction had been getting worse by the minute. I couldn’t afford to wait for her to pick me up. “I wasn’t feeling well. I told your assistant everything she needed to know before I left.” My explanation only made Clara angrier. “Not feeling well? You did it on purpose!” “Would it have killed you to wait a little longer? Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life!” She snatched a small box from her designer bag and threw it at me. “To make it up to you, I even drove all the way to the south side to get you a custom birthday gift!” “And how do you treat me? You’re just a petty, small-minded bastard trying to get revenge for yesterday!” “If I knew you’d act like this, I would have thrown it in the trash.” I opened the box. Inside was a pair of plain black socks. These socks weren’t custom-made at all. They were free promotional items given to customers who bought a custom Tom Ford suit. I looked up, the disappointment in my eyes no longer hidden. “You should have thrown them away.” Because yesterday on the yacht, Julian had been wearing a brand-new Tom Ford suit. He had even posted about it: *“My first bespoke suit. Thank you, babe, for the amazing reward. ❤️”* “What is that supposed to mean?” Clara snapped. I unlocked my phone and held up Julian’s post right in front of her face. “Was this custom-made for me, or was it a freebie from his suit? Giving me a pair of promotional socks as a birthday gift… Clara, I love you, but I’m not an idiot!” I yelled, my voice cracking. Clara choked on her words, unable to say a single thing for a long moment. “Throw them out. I don’t need them.” For the past year, no matter what holiday it was, Clara had only ever gifted me socks. My drawer was practically overflowing with them. In the past, because I loved her, I chose to ignore the red flags. I kept telling myself that as long as she came home to me, it was enough. But now, I was done lying to myself. “It’s the thought that counts! Do you only care about expensive things?” Clara defended herself weakly. Realizing that talking to her was like talking to a brick wall, I turned around and walked into my room. I pulled out my phone and contacted my family’s legal team, asking them to draft a divorce agreement. I wanted to end this farce as quickly as possible. After arranging everything, I lay down to rest. Suddenly, a loud knocking began at the door. I ignored it, but the banging continued for ten solid minutes, getting louder and louder. I was a light sleeper. This constant pounding was driving me insane. I had no choice but to get up and open the door. Clara was standing there, her eyes red and watery. She looked incredibly aggrieved. “Ethan, you’re misunderstanding me.” “I really did pick out that gift for you. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw you another birthday party, okay?” “I’ll charter a yacht for you too.” I looked at her, my heart completely numb. “Whatever.” With that, I shut the door right in her face. But Clara didn’t leave. For once, her voice carried a rare, gentle tone through the wooden door. “Ethan, it’s really not what you think.” “Stop being mad at me. I’ll make it up to you with a better gift.” “I’ve booked a private winery for us this afternoon to celebrate your birthday. I’ll come pick you up.” “Sure, do whatever you want,” I muttered half-heartedly, closing my eyes to go back to sleep. ### 0
This was the most peaceful sleep I’d had in years. I no longer had to worry about missing Clara’s texts or failing to reply within seconds. When I woke up, it was already 7:00 PM. My phone buzzed. It was a call from Clara, telling me to come downstairs. She had booked a room at the most expensive VIP lounge in the city to “make up” for my birthday. But the moment I stepped into the private room, I knew something was off. Clara stood on her tiptoes, whispering in my ear, “The yachts were all booked tonight, so we have to settle for this place. I promise I’ll throw you a bigger party next year.” She dragged me over to a middle-aged man and introduced me. “Ethan, this is Mr. Harrison. I heard he loves custom cocktails. Tonight, we’re going to drink until we drop!” She nudged me forward, then pulled Julian, who was already pouring drinks, closer to her. “Ethan here will make sure you’re satisfied, Mr. Harrison.” I frowned at Clara. Her eyes were completely glued to Julian. She didn’t care about my discomfort at all. I stood up, preparing to leave, but Clara immediately blocked my path. “I couldn’t get the yacht, but is it really necessary to embarrass me in front of everyone like this?” she hissed under her breath. “Mr. Harrison is the client you blew off the other day! You have to help me win him back tonight!” “I brought you here because I know you have a knack for mixing drinks. Don’t let me down!” Listening to her, the puzzle pieces finally fell into place. The birthday party was just a front. She only brought me here to serve her client. “Don’t worry, once we close this deal, I’ll buy you a birthday cake right away.” Looking at her desperate face, my heart went completely cold. “I guess I should make up for my ‘mistake’ then,” I said quietly. After all, this entire high-end lounge belonged to me. Why would I reject easy money flowing into my own business? My mixology skills were legendary among the elite, though I usually only created recipes behind the scenes and rarely stood behind the bar myself. Clara pushed me toward Mr. Harrison. I began to introduce the lounge’s finest selection. Every single bottle was astronomically expensive, but they all shared one trait: luxury. Suddenly, Julian stood up and pushed a vibrant, yellow cocktail toward me. “I heard this mango-infused sparkling cocktail is the signature masterpiece of this club’s owner, and it’s extremely rare. Why don’t you make a few glasses for everyone to try?” “But you should taste it first, so you know how to replicate the flavor perfectly.” I had created that mango cocktail years ago, but because of my severe mango allergy, the club only produced a limited number of bottles. If I drank even half a cup of this, combined with making more of it, I would probably suffocate from anaphylactic shock right here. Clara glared at me, signaling me to do as he said and not ruin the mood. “There’s no need for me to taste it. I can make it directly for everyone.” “How can you make a perfect drink without tasting it?” Julian smirked, his voice dripping with false concern. “Or are you planning to just serve Mr. Harrison some rushed trash?” “Or maybe… you just don’t care about Clara’s business at all?” The moment Julian said those words, Clara’s expression turned icy. She forced a fake smile, pulled me away from the crowd, and whispered through gritted teeth, “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you give me some face?” “You know the company is transitioning right now. Winning Mr. Harrison’s contract is crucial! Stop throwing your childish tantrums!” Before I could reply, she snatched the mango cocktail and shoved it into my hand. “It’s just a fruit cocktail, not hard liquor. Drink it!” When I didn’t move, Clara grabbed the back of my head and forced the glass against my lips, pouring half the liquid down my throat. I choked violently, coughing up a storm. Within seconds, an intense itch spread across my neck. I stood up to leave immediately. Behind me, Julian called out, “Don’t leave yet, Ethan! You haven’t finished the glass, and you haven’t made our drinks!” I didn’t stop. Julian lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Can’t you think about the company for once?” “Do you want all of Clara’s hard work over the years to go down the drain?” The moment Julian finished speaking, Clara stepped up and delivered another stinging slap to my face. *Smack!* In just three days, this was the third time she had hit me. “Ethan, grow the fuck up!” “If this deal falls through tonight, we are ruined!” Because of the massive amount of mango I had just ingested, my throat was tightening. It was becoming hard to breathe. Ignoring Clara’s screaming, I pushed past them and headed straight for the exit. “If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” Clara shrieked behind me. “Ethan! Are you listening to me? I said, if you leave tonight, we are getting a divorce!” I looked down at my arms. The red hives had merged into angry, swollen patches. Clutching my throat, I forced a raspy whisper out of my suffocating chest. “Fine. Let’s divorce.” TThe moment the words left my mouth, my vision went pitch black, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor.
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