After my marriage, I was pressured to hand over all my earnings to my in-laws. But when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness and needed $10,000 for surgery, my husband Jason refused to help. “You know, I have a younger brother, Kyle, who isn’t married yet. I need to buy him a house. It’s a lot of financial pressure,” Jason explained. Then he added coldly, “Besides, you’re terminally ill. What’s the point of treatment?” After that, they vanished without a trace, refusing to even pay for my hospital bills. I suffered in agony until my last breath, never seeing them again. When I opened my eyes once more, I found myself back in time, just before Jason had taken control of my finances. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I threw the divorce papers directly in his face. “Olivia, haven’t you forgotten to give me something?” Jason asked, wrapping his arms around me with a smile. I felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. The last time Jason called me by that nickname was three years ago, right after we got married. It was the night of our college graduation party. My roommate Mia had dragged me to the plaza. There, in the center of a heart-shaped arrangement of candles, Jason knelt before me with a huge bouquet of roses. “Olivia, will you marry me?” he asked. I have to admit, I was truly touched at that moment. Jason and I had met during a trip to Paris. They say Paris is a city full of romance and chance encounters, and it was in a café there that we happened to meet. Jason told me that due to his family’s financial situation, he had dropped out of school early to work and help support his family. “You’re a student at a prestigious university. Won’t you look down on someone like me?” he asked, the light in his eyes dimming. I quickly reassured him, “Of course not! I don’t care about educational differences. As long as you truly care for me, that’s enough.” And so, I accepted his pursuit and began a four-year long-distance relationship. During that time, Jason would make the trip to see me once a month. My friend Mia often said I was lucky to have such a handsome and devoted boyfriend, and for a while, I believed it too. “Olivia?” Jason nudged my arm again. I snapped back to reality, slowly extricating myself from his embrace. Too many memories were flooding back, and my head was starting to throb painfully. I rubbed my temples, feeling a wave of disgust and nausea. Jason noticed something was off and asked with concern, “Are you feeling unwell?” “A bit,” I replied, turning my back to him as I lay down. “It’s nothing, I just need to rest for a while.” But Jason hadn’t given up on his original intention. He leaned close to my ear and continued, “So where’s your salary card? I can go get it myself.” At that moment, I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. So from the very beginning, all he cared about was my money. I pretended to be asleep. After calling my name several times with no response, Jason gave up. Half an hour later, I heard the sound of him typing on his phone, occasionally interspersed with laughter. They seemed to be having quite the pleasant chat. I pulled the covers up higher, determined to ignore it all. I had been given a second chance at life, and I had more important things to focus on.
The next morning, I was woken by Jason’s mother’s shrill screams. She burst into the bedroom, yanking open the curtains and pointing at me as she launched into a tirade: “What time is it and you’re still not up making breakfast? Do you expect me, your mother-in-law, to wait on you hand and foot?” The sudden flood of sunlight made it difficult to open my eyes. I could feel droplets of spittle landing on my face as she yelled. Seeing me frown, Jason’s mother’s tone grew even sharper. “Look at my son, getting up early on a weekend to go to work. I really don’t know how he ended up with such a lazy wife.” Right, I’m a financial consultant at a Big Four accounting firm, while Jason is just a regular employee at some unknown company. His yearly salary probably doesn’t even match my monthly earnings. Does working overtime on a weekend really make him better than me? Jason’s mother had always had an incredibly loud voice. With her nearby, I knew I wouldn’t be getting any more peaceful sleep. I silently sat up, opening my eyes to look at Jason’s mother, who stood in the doorway tapping her foot impatiently. “You have five minutes,” she snapped before stomping back downstairs. I paid no attention to her words, taking my time getting ready and contemplating what to wear. As I was doing my makeup, Jason’s mother came up several times to bang on the door. But since I had locked it, she could only curse and grumble outside before leaving empty-handed. In my previous life, I had always played the role of the obedient, dutiful daughter-in-law. Despite having to get up early for work, I would still wake up an hour earlier to make breakfast for the whole family. Then I would have to wait for everyone to finish eating and wash all the dishes before I could leave for work. Jason’s mother had a habit of watching TV while eating, and sometimes when she got into a show she liked, she would take half an hour just to finish a meal. “Mom, could you please eat a little faster?” I once asked. There was only 15 minutes left before I had to clock in at work, but Jason’s mother showed no signs of putting down her chopsticks. “How dare you rush me, your elder?!” she exploded, slamming her utensils down on the coffee table and launching into a tirade. It was always the same old rhetoric about how a woman’s place was in the home, taking care of her husband and children. She’d go on about how it didn’t matter how much money I earned if I couldn’t even manage to get pregnant. And just like that, the topic would shift from a wife’s duties to the belief that a woman’s only real value came from bearing children. Needless to say, I was late to work that day. After that, I never dared to rush Jason’s mother again. If I did, she always found ways to delay me from leaving on time. By the time I finished getting ready and went downstairs, an hour had passed. Jason’s mother and Kyle were sitting on the living room couch watching TV. Seeing me finally head to the kitchen, Jason’s mother let out a derisive snort. “Hmph, whatever you do, never marry a wife like this. She’ll be the death of me.”
Fifteen minutes later, I emerged from the kitchen with the prepared breakfast. Jason’s mother stared at the single egg and glass of milk on the table, her eyes wide with disbelief. After a long moment, she finally exploded, “Is this tiny amount supposed to feed anyone?!” “Kyle is still growing. Are you trying to starve him?” she demanded. Kyle remained on the couch, watching TV while playing his handheld game. He glanced at the table and sneered, “I’m not eating that. It looks gross.” I didn’t get upset. I simply sat down and began to enjoy my breakfast. “I know you two weren’t going to eat, so I didn’t make any for you,” I explained calmly. I generally don’t have much of an appetite in the mornings, especially on weekends when I eat even lighter. In the past, I would make a huge spread of breakfast foods to cater to the tastes of all three family members. And Kyle was an extremely picky eater. I had to come up with new menu ideas for him every couple of days. Now that I was free of all that hassle, I felt much more relaxed. “How dare you! I see you’ve completely lost all respect!” Jason’s mother shrieked. I ignored her constant yelling beside me. After finishing the last sip of milk, I went over to Kyle. If I remembered correctly, the handheld game console he was playing was one I had just bought. I hadn’t even had a chance to use it myself before he opened the package. Seeing me standing next to him looking like I was about to scold him, Kyle quickly hid the console behind his back. “This is mine. Don’t even think about taking it away,” he said defiantly. In Kyle’s mind, everything in this house belonged to his brother Jason. And naturally, everything of Jason’s belonged to Kyle as well. I had no right to question any of it, even though this entire house, including all the furniture, had been purchased outright with my own money. In my previous life, I never scolded Kyle for taking my personal belongings without permission because I cared for him like my own brother. “Kyle, I’m not upset about this,” I said gently, crouching beside him. “It’s just that you’re in high school now. You should be focusing more on your studies.” Kyle snorted, “You can say all that, but in the end you just don’t want me to have your game console. If it was Mia, she definitely wouldn’t treat me like this.” Unfortunately, back then I was so focused on my family that I never suspected there might be hidden meaning behind those words. Well, if you still love playing games so much this time around, then go ahead and play to your heart’s content. “You’ve misunderstood me,” I said, taking out $500 from my wallet and placing it on the table. “This console just arrived, so it probably doesn’t have many games yet. Since it’s the weekend, why don’t you go to the store and buy some game cartridges?”
Kyle was still young, so his reactions were quick. As if afraid I might change my mind, he grabbed the money and rushed out the door. “Don’t think this means I’ll give the console back to you,” he called over his shoulder. Of course not. As long as you enjoy it, I’ll keep buying you more. It’s just that this time, you probably won’t be getting into college. In my previous life, I had devoted myself to tutoring Kyle. Although his grades weren’t great in the end, he did manage to get into an average college. But shortly after starting university, Kyle developed a habit of drinking and partying. I often lectured him about it. One time when I went to pick him up from a bar, Kyle drugged me and handed me over to some of his drinking buddies. Afterwards, he proudly showed me the video. “If you hadn’t forced me to study so hard in high school, I might have been able to get the girl I had a crush on for years,” he taunted. After that, Kyle frequently used the video to blackmail me for money. In less than a year, my savings were completely drained. Having lived through it once, I won’t be so naive this time. Since you love it so much, go ahead and play to your heart’s content. I glanced at my phone. It was about time for my appointment with Dr. Chen. Seeing me getting ready to leave, Jason’s mother grabbed my arm. “You’re going out? What about my breakfast?!” I pulled my arm away, my expression blank. “Not just breakfast. I won’t be cooking anymore from now on.” “Didn’t you always complain my cooking was terrible? Well, now I’m too lazy to bother.” Ignoring Jason’s mother’s stream of insults, I got in my car and headed to the hospital.
“Fortunately we caught it early. The tumor is benign,” the doctor said. As I left the examination room, I felt an enormous weight lift from my shoulders. In my previous life, Jason had always insisted on managing our finances. Knowing how much men care about their pride, I handed over my salary card after we had been married for a year. But I never imagined he would completely take over all of my assets. Due to a congenital condition and work stress, I was diagnosed with cancer three years later. When I was lying in the hospital bed unable to move, I begged Jason to help pay for the surgery. “Olivia, the surgery costs are just too high,” Jason said, his expression torn. “Our family can’t afford it.” When I heard those words, I lay there in shock, barely able to breathe. I struggled to calm myself. “It’s only $10,000. How can that be…” “What’s the point of treatment?” Jason’s mother interrupted impatiently. She sat nearby, picking an apple from the fruit basket. She wiped it on her shirt before taking a big bite. “It’s terminal cancer anyway. Why waste money on something that can’t be cured?” Almost all of our family’s savings over the years had come from my income alone. Now that I wanted to use the money for my own medical treatment, she had the nerve to object? The pain in my chest intensified. “How is it not my money to spend?” “What do you mean YOUR money?!” Jason’s mother shrieked. She jumped up from her chair, crying and shouting about how ungrateful I was. As more and more people gathered to watch, she began embellishing the story, completely twisting the facts. In her version, I was a lazy wife who did nothing all day while her precious son supported the entire family on his own. “Now that she has an incurable disease, she’s trying to drain all our savings,” Jason’s mother wailed, throwing herself on the ground. “Oh, why is my life so miserable?” I felt utterly heartbroken, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. I looked to Jason, who stood silently nearby, hoping he would speak up to defend me. But his next words crushed what was left of my spirit. “Olivia, you know our family’s situation,” he said. “You know I still have a younger brother to support. He’s not married yet, and I need to help him buy a house.” Buy a house? With my money? “Like my mom said, this is a terminal illness. There’s no point in treatment.” The doctor had said the chances of recovery were very slim, but not impossible. I wanted to use my own money for treatment. What was so wrong with that? If only my parents were still alive. I wouldn’t have to suffer this kind of mistreatment. At that thought, I became so distraught that I passed out. ———-This is the breakpoint———-
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