The Five-Hour Wife

Chapter 1 Arthur Vance only gave me a quota of five hours of free personal time each year. Eating a meal with me deducted forty minutes. Going back to visit my parents deducted two hours. Even our intimacy was timed from the very first second he kissed me. Arthur was the youngest senior partner at a top-tier white-shoe law firm. His private consultation fee was $6,000 an hour. I always thought he was just meticulously strict about his time. Until the firm’s annual gala, when Chloe Sterling—the junior associate he had personally mentored—suddenly smiled and asked: “Arthur, how much time does your wife have left this year?” Arthur glanced at his phone. “Seventeen minutes.” The entire table erupted in laughter. Chloe tilted her head up to look at him. “What about me?” Arthur affectionately ruffled her hair. “You don’t need to be timed.” “Shopping for dresses with you, getting late-night takeout, catching midnight premieres—when have I ever timed you?” I swallowed the roar of laughter from the crowd, silently guarding my final seventeen minutes. A month later, my father passed away suddenly from a massive heart attack. I used my last seventeen minutes to ask Arthur to stay with me while I signed my father’s cremation papers. But later, my emotions completely broke down. I grabbed the cuff of Arthur’s sleeve, begging him to stay for just ten more minutes. He didn’t push me away. I thought that in the face of my father’s death, he was finally willing to break his rule for me. The next day, his secretary sent me a bill for $1,000. That same afternoon, I pawned my wedding ring for $1,500. I used $1,000 to settle his invoice. With the remaining $500, I paid the deposit for an overseas legal translation institute. This time, I didn’t waste any more of his time. And I wasn’t going to waste any more of mine. …… Just after I transferred the $1,000, Arthur’s secretary quickly sent a receipt confirmation. Attached to the email was a document titled: Personal Time Usage Breakdown for the Current Year. January: Anniversary dinner, 90 minutes. He was 35 minutes late, took a 46-minute phone call from Chloe, and the time I actually spent speaking to him was only 9 minutes. Yet, a full 90 minutes was deducted from my quota. May: Hospitalized with a high fever. He stayed in my hospital room for 6 minutes. But that same night, he spent four hours in the ER with Chloe for a mild 99-degree fever. August: Intimacy, 21 minutes. After it ended, craving his body heat, I held onto him for two extra minutes. Those two minutes were logged as a separate line item. The original file name of the attachment hadn’t been fully scrubbed. Five-Hour Wife Annual Quota Summary. I stared at those words, my vision blurring. I finally realized that this was what the people at his firm called me behind my back. The Five-Hour Wife. The title I had earned from six years of marriage. It felt like something was blocking my throat. It took a long time before I could force the tears back down. In my inbox sat the enrollment confirmation from the institute in London. There were only twelve days left until orientation. I wiped the moisture from the corners of my eyes and returned to my hometown to handle my father’s affairs. While processing the burial paperwork, the staff member glanced at the family section. “Your husband didn’t come today?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My father’s old friend, Uncle Ray, quickly covered for me. “Arthur is a big-shot lawyer. He’s busy.” “Old Mitch always used to say we shouldn’t let family matters delay his son-in-law.” The room suddenly went quiet. Uncle Ray looked at my red eyes, hesitated for a long time, and finally spoke in a low voice: “Last winter, your dad heard Arthur’s stomach ulcers were acting up. He got up in the middle of the night to make him soup, and I drove him to the firm.” “He waited in the lobby for three hours. They didn’t even let him upstairs.” “When that Chloe girl came down, she asked if he was trying to eat into your five hours, and told him not to come make a mess without an appointment.” My fingernails instantly dug into my palms. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Uncle Ray looked away. “Your dad wouldn’t let me.” “He said your marriage was hard enough already. He didn’t want to humiliate you.” I lowered my head, tears crashing down onto my father’s memorial photo without warning. My father covered for me until the day he died. He didn’t know that I had lost my dignity in the Vance family a long time ago. I found the insulated thermos in the cupboard. Taped to the lid was a crooked note in my father’s handwriting. Arthur has a bad stomach. Drink less coffee. My phone screen lit up exactly at that moment. Chloe had just posted an Instagram story. In the photo, Arthur was carrying her shopping bags filled with limited-edition mystery boxes. His sleeves were rolled up, and his expression was relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in years. “Arthur waited in line with me for two hours so I could finally get the collectible I wanted!” “Time should obviously be wasted on things that make you happy.” I stared at it for a long time, until the screen went completely dark. When I got home that night, the light in the study was on. Arthur had told me he had work to do. But as I walked past the door, I heard his deep, low laughter. “You made me wait in line for two hours and you’re still not satisfied?” “Fine, I’ll stay on the phone with you tonight.” “No, this time doesn’t count.” I froze outside the door, a sour ache blooming in my nose. I lowered my eyes and walked past the study. When Arthur saw me, his smile faded slightly. He quickly ended the call, followed me into the bedroom, and wrapped his arms around me from behind. As his familiar scent pressed down on me, my body dodged away before my mind could even process it. Arthur’s hands froze in mid-air. Chapter 2 He stayed silent for a moment before slowly adjusting his cuffs. “Your reaction today is a bit irrational.” “If you care that much about the $1,000, you could have just brought it up.” I gripped my father’s jacket tightly and didn’t look at him. Arthur’s tone remained steady. “I understand you are in a grieving period, which is why I didn’t push you away at the crematorium.” “But understanding your emotions does not mean the rules become invalid.” When he finished, much like resolving a simple legal dispute, he offered a settlement. “Next year, I’ll increase your quota by one hour.” “Tonight’s hug won’t be timed either. That should be sufficient.” My eyes burned. “There’s no need,” I replied softly. Arthur stared at me for a few seconds. The rare sliver of patience in his eyes slowly faded. “Refusing a solution and using silence to continuously express your dissatisfaction only makes communication meaningless.” “Leaving the firm back then was a choice based on your own personal desires.” “This marriage was an arrangement you actively accepted.” “To frame them now as sacrifices isn’t fair to me.” Every sentence was rigorous, clear, and perfectly bulletproof. He stood in the courtroom of our life, dismissing my six years point by point. Six years ago, I was a lawyer at the same firm. After I won three consecutive cases, Arthur called me into his office and asked if I wanted to maintain an exclusive physical relationship with him. “I don’t have the time to get to know a new woman from scratch.” “You’re familiar with my habits. You’re the most suitable.” I asked him what would happen to my job. He answered without a second of hesitation. “Quit.” “When I need you, I don’t want to have to wait for you to finish a trial.” I had loved him for so long that I ultimately gave up my budding career to stay by his side. I had a moment of clarity once and packed my bags to leave. Arthur chased me to the train station and grabbed my hand in the crowd. His voice was unusually gentle. “Don’t go. Come back with me.” “I’ll give you a marriage, and in the future, I’ll give you time.” I believed him. Now, that ring had been traded for ten minutes of his company. And the career he had personally severed was now entirely “my own choice.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. A new email from the institute. Please arrive on time for orientation in twelve days. Looking at that sentence, my tears finally fell. Six years ago, Arthur knew my train schedule, so he was able to drag me back. This time, I wouldn’t tell him my flight. My father couldn’t bear to take up his time even in death. My farewell wouldn’t take up his time, either. When I clicked “Confirm Enrollment,” Arthur was still standing at the bedroom door. He glanced at the screen. “That overseas institute again?” “Yes.” “You applied for that three years ago too.” His tone was flat, clearly not taking it seriously. “There are still many logistical hurdles between confirming enrollment and actually leaving. Let’s talk when you actually have everything in order.” He was absolutely certain I wouldn’t go through with it. And certain I couldn’t bear to leave him. As I put my phone away, Arthur’s gaze fell on my left hand. “Where is your wedding ring?” Only a faint, pale indentation remained on my ring finger. That ring was worth $68,000. Before the wedding, Arthur took me to a high-end jeweler. He only looked at one display case before pointing to the ring in the dead center. Choosing it took thirty-two seconds. Swiping the card took fourteen. Before the tea in the VIP lounge was even served, we were walking out of the store. At the time, I only remembered that he didn’t even ask the price when he paid, and I secretly rejoiced over it for a long time. Only later did I realize: he was willing to spend his money, but he wasn’t willing to spend a single extra minute on me. “I pawned it.” Arthur’s brow twitched. “Why?” “To pay that $1,000 bill.” He fell silent for two seconds, quickly recovering his composure. “If you needed money, you could have drawn from the secondary credit card.” He didn’t even ask if the ring could be redeemed. A knock sounded at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Chloe pushed the door open and walked in. “Arthur, why did you hang up on me just now?” Her tone was whiny and flirtatious as her hand naturally climbed up Arthur’s arm. The diamond bracelet on her wrist glinted blindingly under the light. Last Christmas, my father gave Arthur a $1,000 holiday check. Arthur turned around and gave it to Chloe, then spent four hours walking around the mall with her, covering the difference to buy that exact bracelet. For one of Chloe’s bracelets, he patiently shopped for an entire afternoon. Chloe noticed me looking and raised her wrist to jingle it. “Does Ellie recognize this?” “The holiday money your dad gave Arthur was put toward this bracelet.” She suddenly covered her mouth, as if just remembering my father had passed away. “Now that your dad is gone, does this count as one of his relics?” “You wouldn’t make me give it back, would you, Ellie?” Chapter 3 Arthur glanced at her. “Chloe, watch your phrasing.” His tone carried no weight. Chloe stuck her tongue out and casually picked up his water glass to take a sip. “I just didn’t want Ellie to misunderstand.” Arthur didn’t stop her. I looked at them, and suddenly wanted to ask one final question for the version of myself from the last six years. “Why?” Arthur looked up. “What?” “When you eat with me, go home with me, or take me to the hospital, you have to calculate the time.” “But when you help her pick out jewelry, watch movies, and get late-night food, you never count a second.” Arthur didn’t dodge the question. Like evaluating a case, he gave the clearest possible answer. “Chloe is a key associate the firm is heavily investing in.” “Her growth translates directly into billable hours and creates long-term revenue for the firm.” He paused, his eyes sweeping across my face. “You currently have no professional output.” “The time you spend waiting for me has no commercial value.” The final, faint thread tugging at my chest snapped in silence. I lowered my eyes, and even the sorrow faded away. Chloe leaned against his shoulder, reaching up to adjust his slightly messy collar. A gesture that used to keep me awake all night now provoked absolutely nothing in me. But Arthur looked at me. It seemed my calmness made him far more uncomfortable than an argument would have. He pulled out his tablet and forwarded me the personal time schedule for next year. “The five hours have been pre-allocated.” “Time has been reserved for your birthday, our anniversary, your physical exam, and two family dinners.” Chloe snatched the tablet right out of his hands. “I have a mock arbitration on Ellie’s birthday. Move the dinner to next week.” “The anniversary needs to be shortened too. I land that night, and Arthur has to come pick me up.” Holding the stylus, she casually circled and crossed out dates on my schedule. Arthur only offered a mild warning: “Don’t pack it too tight.” Chloe smiled and handed the mutilated calendar back to me. “Make sure you confirm it, Ellie.” “If you make any last-minute changes, it comes out of your own quota.” I looked at the unrecognizable schedule and pressed Decline. Arthur frowned slightly. “Why won’t you accept it?” “I won’t need it.” Chloe was still clinging to his arm. Arthur stared at me for a few seconds, but ultimately didn’t press the issue. That evening, Arthur’s mother called. She only had two sentences for me: “Your father is already cremated. Stop bringing your depressing energy around Arthur.” “Bring Chloe to the house tonight. She made the partner track shortlist, and the family is throwing her a celebration.” Arthur put his phone down and looked at me. “We’ll come back right after we eat. Family dinners do not count toward your five hours.” I nodded. As Chloe got into his passenger seat, she turned back and smiled at me. “Sorry you have to endure this, Ellie. Your father just died, and you still have to celebrate my promotion.” At the Vance family’s long dining table, Chloe sat right beside Arthur as always. Arthur’s mother poured her wine personally. “When you quit the firm back then, the associate slot opened up and went straight to Chloe.” “Looking at it now, that spot definitely didn’t go to waste.” Chloe raised her glass to me. “I really should thank Ellie.” “If she hadn’t left, I might not have gotten the chance to be personally mentored by Arthur.” Seeing my red eyes, Arthur cut in with a flat tone. “Associate slots rotate based on merit. They don’t belong to anyone.” “Chloe stayed because she created sufficient value.” His mother smiled and nodded. “A woman still needs her own career.” “Waiting around for a man all day, ending up having to beg your husband for a measly five hours—how pathetic is that?” The whole table laughed. I kept my head down and slowly drank my tea, which had long gone cold. When the dinner ended, a maid brought a cardboard box down from upstairs. Arthur’s mother casually pushed it toward me. “I had them clear out that nursery in your house.” “When Chloe and Arthur work late, she can organize files in there. It’s close to the study.” Arthur’s face darkened. “Who gave you permission to touch that room?” “A baby you couldn’t even keep—what’s the point of letting it take up a room?” His mother looked entirely indifferent. “You can’t let a living person’s career take a backseat to a baby that’s been dead for two years.” Chloe clung to Arthur’s arm. “Arthur, let’s just put it back.” “I’m sure Ellie can’t bear to give her baby’s room to me.” “There’s no need.” I picked up the box. “I won’t be needing it anymore either.” Arthur glanced at me, seemingly catching something in my tone. But Chloe had a cross-border arbitration call at 10:00 PM. In the end, all he said was: “Let’s go.”

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