Chapter 1

When my daughter got into a top university, my husband, David, only gave her 300 dollars a month for living expenses.

I tried to reason with him. "Girls in college always need to buy clothes and makeup. How is that supposed to be enough?"

He replied impatiently, "She's not only my responsibility. I managed just fine with 300 dollars a month back when I was in college."

My daughter's eyes welled up with tears as she looked at the several crisp dollar bills in her hand.

My heart hurt so much I was shaking. I turned away and secretly took out my phone, ready to send her some money for a laptop.

Just then, David's phone rang. He immediately got up, walked away from us, and hurried out to the balcony.

The glass door wasn't fully closed, so his voice, so gentle, almost tender, drifted in.

"Emily, you don't need to talk about borrowing money with me. Don't be a stranger."

"Take this 100,000 dollars and spend it however you want. You don't have to pay me back. Don't let yourself or your child miss out on anything. If you want to send your kid to that overseas summer camp, go ahead."

Emily Winters, the one he'd always kept hidden in his heart, his first love.

I walked back into the living room, feeling cold all over.

My daughter was crouched on the floor, clumsily wrapping clear tape around the broken handle of her old suitcase, just trying to save a few dollars.

She looked so nervous and self-conscious, she couldn't even lift her head.

I went over, took that battered suitcase away, and hugged my daughter tightly.

We don't need his money anymore.

The moment the semester starts, I'm getting a lawyer and ending this marriage.

Let him live out his days with nothing but his precious money.

*****

When David came back from the balcony, the living room was quiet.

I gently led my daughter into her room.

She never looked up, just kept wiping her tears away.

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

David sat back down on the couch like everything was normal, then tossed out, "What, not enough?"

I stood in the doorway, and when I heard that, my heart dropped.

He could be so generous to someone else.

But when it came to his own daughter, he only gave 300 dollars.

And he had the nerve to ask if it was too little.

I opened the door and walked right up to him.

"David."

I looked him straight in the eye. "You only give Sophie 300 dollars a month, so who gets the 100,000 dollars you just talked about?"

He hesitated for just a moment.

That was all I needed to see.

He didn't even try to explain. Instead, he frowned and said, "Were you eavesdropping on my call?"

I couldn't help but feel a bitter amusement.

Turns out, in his mind, the issue wasn't that he was using our family's money to support someone else.

The real issue was that I caught him.

I stared at him and asked softly, "So it's true?"

David's face turned grim. "Don't get all worked up. Emily's been raising her kid on her own for years. Now the kid finally gets a shot to see the world, so I help out. What's the big deal?"

"So what?"

I echoed him, "100,000 dollars is just you 'helping out,' but your own daughter only gets 300 bucks a month, and that's supposed to be enough, huh?"

He got impatient. "It's my money, I get to decide how to spend it."

I was frozen, unable to say a single word.

We've been splitting the mortgage and looking after our parents together all these years.

When I handed him my bank card, he said that's what families do. Put all our money together so it's easier to plan.

Now he's telling me it's all his money.

My voice was tight. "So what about all the salary I handed over to you all these years?"

David frowned. "Here we go again. Sophie's going to college, not on vacation. Why wouldn't 300 dollars be enough? I had even less when I was in college."

I stared at him, feeling a lump in my chest.

"She couldn't even bring herself to ask for a secondhand laptop," I said.

David scoffed, "A laptop?"

He looked at me like I'd said something absurd. "The school has computer labs and a library. College is for learning, not for showing off."

At that moment, I suddenly remembered when Sophie was just born.

He cradled her in his arms, barely daring to use any strength, like she was made of glass.

His eyes were shining with tears as he said, "Whatever our little princess wants, Daddy will give her anything she wants."

Back then, I truly believed he'd always stay that way.

But now, he was standing right in front of me, telling me to just settle.

The door quietly clicked open.

Sophie stood in the doorway, her eyes rimmed with red, and whispered, "It's okay, Mom, I don't need a laptop."

She twisted the hem of her shirt, her voice trailing off.

"The school has a library. I can use the computers there. 300 dollars is enough, really. I'll just spend less."

David jumped in right away. "See? She understands. You're always babying her."

Sophie lowered her head and fell silent.

Seeing my daughter act so mature, my heart hurt even more.

It made my chest tighten with pain.

I walked over, gathered Sophie into my arms, and gently stroked her hair.

"Go back to your room," I said softly.

She buried her face against my chest, her whole body trembling.

"Mom, I'm sorry. It's my fault you and Dad are fighting," she whispered.

I hugged her tighter, and after a long moment, finally said, "It's not your fault."

"It's just that some people don't know how to cherish what they have."

After I finally got her to sleep, I picked up my phone and started checking the bank records.

As I scrolled through transfer after transfer, a chill crept up my arms.

15,000 dollars, 25,000 dollars, 40,000 dollars.

Scrolling back even further, I found a transfer of 120,000 dollars, with just two words in the memo: housing mortgage.

I forced down the anger burning inside me.

I pulled up my contacts and found Rachel Bennett, my college friend who's a lawyer.