My wife rejected the poor girl I wanted to sponsor for not being good enough. She insisted we sponsor a cheerful, handsome male student instead. The result? That student ended up in my house, sleeping in my bed. Even my daughter, who was never close to me, started to look more and more like him. I didn’t expose them. Instead, I smiled and transferred my company to that vibrant young man. It was buried under fifty million in debt. “Liam, it is all yours now.” David POV When I walked through the door, I was carrying a limited-edition Elsa dress for my daughter and an elegant necklace for my wife, Eleanor. I’d squeezed a week’s work in New York into four days and taken the red-eye flight home, all to be back for the weekend and surprise them. I pictured Eleanor’s delighted surprise, imagined three-year-old Chloe running into my arms. A smile touched my lips before I could stop it. Chloe had never been very warm with me. She didn’t look like me, either. I have hooded eyes and a strong nose-a rougher kind of face. Chloe has huge, liquid eyes, porcelain skin, and a delicate chin. When friends visited, they’d often chuckled.”Well, your wife’s genes won this round. Total upgrade.” I just took it as a joke. After all, Eleanor was famously beautiful; it was a good thing for our daughter to resemble her mother. But Chloe would only sweetly call me “Dad” when she wanted toys or pocket money. The rest of the time, she looked at me with a hesitant, almost timid gaze. Eleanor said it was because I traveled so much for work, which was why I made an effort to return early this time. I shook my head, pushing these unsettling thoughts from my mind. The master bedroom door was ajar, letting out a sliver of light. I changed my shoes, about to push the door open and give Eleanor a hug, when I heard her voice from inside the bedroom. “Chloe, look at the camera, say Daddy.” I looked up, disbelieving. Say Daddy? Wasn’t I right outside the door? Immediately after, Chloe’s tender voice rang out, filled with a joy I’d never heard before. “Daddy! Daddy, look, Mom bought me new pajamas, aren’t they pretty?” A young man’s voice came from the other end of the phone, clear and with a hint of playful teasing. “Very pretty, Chloe looks good in everything. Do you miss Daddy?” “Yes! When will Daddy take me to the amusement park?” “Tomorrow! That old geezer is gone on his business trip, isn’t he? Daddy will come play with you tomorrow.” I held my breath, peeking through the crack in the door. Eleanor was wearing a sheer lace nightgown, lying on the bed with her feet playfully propped up, holding an iPad. Chloe lay next to her, their heads close together, giggling uncontrollably at the screen. The iPad screen was large, its light illuminating Eleanor’s face, making her look radiant, a liveliness I rarely saw directed at me. And the man on the screen? I knew him too. Liam Davis. The impoverished university student Eleanor and I had been sponsoring for two years.
David POV Two years ago, I thought my company was doing well, and I wanted to do some charity to give back to society. Through a foundation, I selected several young girls from remote areas. I’d reviewed all their profiles; they were all genuinely bright kids who wanted to study but couldn’t afford it. But Eleanor vehemently objected. She threw the girls’ profiles onto the coffee table, pointing her finger at me. “David Miller, are you out of your mind? Why do you insist on choosing girls? Are you subconsciously sexist? Do you think girls are pitiful, but boys aren’t?” “I just thought that girl had better grades…” I tried to explain. “Enough! I’m not listening to your excuses.” “I’ve picked out this student named Liam. He’s an athlete, bright and ambitious, from a single-parent home – how tough is that? If you’re going to sponsor anyone, it has to be him, or else, forget the charity altogether!” For the sake of domestic peace, I compromised. For two years, Liam’s tuition, living expenses, even his so-called “social practice” fees during breaks, all came from me. I still remember the first time Liam came to our house. He was wearing the expensive sneakers I’d bought him, standing in the living room, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Eleanor, where he offered a shy smile. At the time, Eleanor had smiled and said to me, “Look at this boy, so sensible and good-looking. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Chloe could find a boyfriend like him someday?” Now it seemed, she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend for our daughter, but for herself. My heart sank, and a sudden realization struck me. Liam had large eyes and a pointed chin. If Chloe didn’t look like me, then she and Liam looked like they were carved from the same mold.
David POV “Ugh, honey,” Eleanor’s voice cut in again, dripping with irritation. “The old man’s off to New York again. Says he’ll only be gone a week this time. It’s so exhausting having to play the perfect little wife and mommy whenever he’s around.” “Just bear with it,” Liam said on the screen, blowing a kiss. “Once we’ve drained his accounts dry, we’re gone. Oh, by the way, did you ask him about that trust fund I mentioned last time?” “I did, and I’m figuring out how to get him to sign it,” Eleanor giggled. “Don’t worry, that idiot does whatever I tell him. All I have to do is bat my eyelashes, and he’ll sign anything.” “My wife is the best.” “Stop it, who’s your wife…” “You are. You’ve been my wife since four years ago.” Four years ago. My hands were trembling. Four years ago, Chloe hadn’t even been born. Eleanor and I had only been married for one year. Sometimes, when rage pushes you past a certain edge, a cold clarity takes over. I wanted to burst in, smash the iPad, and slap those two despicable people. But I knew that besides venting my anger, it would be useless. If I rushed in now, at best, I’d catch them in the act. Knowing Eleanor, she wouldn’t just throw a fit; she’d accuse me back, even use Chloe as a shield. I took a deep breath and slowly released the doorknob. I carried my luggage, retracing my steps back to the entryway, just as I’d come in. Then I slammed the door shut. The loud bang echoed piercingly in the silent night. The laughter inside ceased abruptly. I stood in the entryway, adjusting my breathing, and called out loudly, “Honey! Chloe! I’m home early!” A flurry of hurried sounds came from the master bedroom. I walked to the master bedroom door, and Eleanor emerged. She was wearing a sexy lace nightgown covered by a thick robe, with the buttons all mismatched. “Darling? Why are you back so early? Didn’t you say three more days?” I looked at her, forcing the same kind of goofy, doting smile I always wore, and handed her the gifts. “Missed you, so I hurried back. What, not welcome?” Eleanor took the gifts, visibly relieved, then wrapped her arm around mine and pouted playfully, “Of course not, it was just so sudden, it startled me. Chloe’s already asleep.” “Oh really? I thought I heard you talking just now?” I asked casually, changing my shoes. Eleanor’s body visibly stiffened for a moment but quickly returned to normal. “Oh, I was just scrolling through TikTok. Had the volume up too high.” “Is that so?” I walked into the bedroom. The iPad was already dark, placed on the bedside table. Chloe was lying on the bed with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, her eyelashes still trembling slightly. I walked to the bed, looking at that face so similar to Liam’s, and bit down hard. I turned around, looking at Eleanor, who stood anxiously by the door, and said gently, “Eleanor, you’ve worked so hard these past few years. This business trip, it made me realize something.” “What is it?” Eleanor asked tentatively. “I feel like our previous investments had too low a return,” I said with a smile, beginning to enthusiastically explain to Eleanor, “I plan to take out all our liquid assets and make a big investment. We should discuss this properly tomorrow.” Eleanor’s eyes lit up instantly, flashing with a greedy glint. “Oh, darling, whatever you say.” Watching her expression, I sneered inwardly, but maintained a calm demeanor.
David POV Eleanor’s favorite phrase was always. “David, you just have a bit of dirty money. If you didn’t have a sophisticated woman like me to spend it, your money would be worthless paper, utterly without class.” Eleanor had been the campus queen in college. Her family background was ordinary, but she was strikingly beautiful and studied art, exuding an ethereal, artistic vibe. I, on the other hand, was a poor kid from a rural background, who clawed his way up in the construction industry with relentless effort. Though I was now a multimillionaire, in Eleanor’s eyes, I was always a nouveau riche who couldn’t shed his provincial air. I still remember shortly after we got married, I took her to a business gala. I wore a custom suit, feeling somewhat awkward standing beside her. Friends came over to toast, praising me for my achievements and for marrying a goddess. Eleanor merely took a delicate sip of red wine, then, in front of everyone, with a half-smile, straightened my tie and said airily: “Excuse us, everyone. My husband, well, besides being lucky, everything else is really hard to describe. He’ll need a lot of guidance from you all in the future. Otherwise, with just money and no taste, he’ll just be a laughingstock.” In that moment, my friends’ smiles froze, and my face turned beet red. When we got home, I cautiously asked her if I wasn’t good enough. Eleanor sat at her dressing table, removing her makeup while nonchalantly lecturing me. “David, know your place. I had hundreds of suitors-trust fund heirs, Ivy League grads-all more refined than you. I chose you because you’re obedient. Be grateful. I sacrificed my world to elevate your bloodline.” Whenever I tried to express an opinion at home, or questioned household expenses, she would look at me as if I were trash. “What do you know? Your “poverty mindset” only understands saving. You don’t know how to live. My spa days and designer bags? They maintain my image-and reflect on you. You should feel honored. Without me, you’d be eating takeout on a job site, not living this life.” Over time, she brainwashed me. I thought she was right. My taste was bad, I didn’t understand art, I didn’t understand fashion. And she was a goddess, a celestial being, high above. Her willingness to marry me, to spend my money, was her greatest blessing upon me. To be worthy of her, I quit smoking, stopped cursing, and painstakingly learned about wine tasting and golf. I handed over all financial control to her, keeping only a small allowance each month and giving her the rest. When our daughter Chloe was born, I was overjoyed, holding her and not letting go. But Eleanor disdainfully snatched the baby from my arms, wiped her hands with a sanitizing wipe, and frowned. “Don’t hold her so much. You reek of smoke, liquor, and sweat. Don’t spoil Chloe with that smell.” “Chloe’s beauty comes from me. If she looked like you, her life would be ruined.” Back then, I thought she was just obsessed with appearances. I even foolishly smiled and agreed, thinking she was right. Now, looking back-every look, every put-down-was that really just playful banter? No, it was pure disgust.
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