Chapter 1

David Carter and I got married yesterday.

This morning at seven, I was in the kitchen making breakfast for David when he came downstairs in his pajamas, holding a piece of paper. "Emily, let's talk."

David sat down at the table and slid the paper across to me. I wiped the flour off my hands and picked it up. It read: [Marital Financial Management Agreement].

I froze for a few seconds, thinking I must have misread it. "David, what is this?"

"Exactly what it says." He straightened his tie. "We're married now, but it's better if we keep our finances separate. I'll cover the mortgage, you cover living expenses, and everything else we each pay for ourselves."

The spatula nearly slipped out of my hand. "What did you say?"

"Fifty-fifty. A lot of couples do it these days." He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I make six thousand a month. The mortgage is three thousand, so the rest is mine.

"You make four thousand. After sending a thousand to your parents, you've got three left for living expenses."

I blinked, wondering if I was dreaming.

At our wedding, we'd promised to stand by each other "in richness and in poverty." And then he wanted to settle accounts?

"David, are you serious?" I asked.

"Absolutely," David said, pulling a calculator out of his briefcase. "See, I've done the math. Utilities are about 160 dollars, property management 100, food for both of us 1,600, household supplies 160.

"That's 1,100 dollars total. You pay 1,000, and I pay 100. Pretty fair, right?"

I looked at the man in front of me, wearing a fancy shirt and a Rolex, and he suddenly felt like a total stranger to me. "What about my makeup and clothes?"

"Those are your own expenses," David said, taking a sip of milk. "And from now on, whenever we eat out, we'll split the bill. That way, neither of us owes the other anything."

The eggs in the pan were getting burnt, but I was too lost in thought to care.

David and I were college sweethearts. We dated for five years before finally getting married. All those years, he never made a fuss about money.

He wasn't the most generous guy, but he always paid his share without complaint.

So why did things have to change right after we got married?

"Think it over," David said, getting to his feet. "I'm heading to work. Sign the agreement today."

He grabbed his briefcase and was about to leave, but I called out to him. "What if I don't sign it?"

David stopped and turned to look at me. "Emily, don't act like you don't know what's good for you. There are plenty of women dying to marry me.

"Marrying you is already doing you a huge favor. If you're not okay with this, we can get divorced."

With that, he walked out without even looking back.

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the agreement. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. It wasn't fear. It was pure anger.

Since when had I, Emily Brooks, ever had to swallow this kind of humiliation?

I grew up in a regular working-class family, but my parents always treated me like I was their pride and joy.

I was a top student, and after I started working, I did pretty well. I was never rich, but money was never something I had to stress about.

Who did David think he was?

Yeah, his family had got some money. His dad ran a small business, but they were middle-class, nothing special. I never went out with him for his money. And he wanted to nickel-and-dime me.

I grabbed my phone and called my best friend, Sophie.

"Emily, what's up? You sound weird," Sophie said.

"Sophie, is it normal for a guy to ask to go Dutch the day after the wedding?" I asked.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Wait, what? David wants to go Dutch with you?"

"Yeah, he even gave me a breakdown and expects me to pay 1,000 dollars a month for living expenses."

"Seriously?" Sophie's voice shot up an octave. "Emily, are you out of your mind? Why would you even stay with a guy like that?"

I gave a bitter laugh. "I've been asking myself the same thing."

"Why are you even thinking about it? Get a divorce." Sophie was fuming. "If he's already splitting the bills on your second day of marriage, what's next? Is he going to make you pay for the baby formula when you have a kid?"

I hung up the phone, looked at the agreement on the table, and let out a sudden laugh.

Alright, David. So you wanted to go Dutch. Fine, I would play along.

I snapped a photo of the agreement and sent it to my lawyer friend. [Is this agreement legally binding?]

My lawyer replied right away, [Technically, it is, but it's hard to enforce. Are you really going to sign it?]

[I'm signing it.]

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the agreement.

If David wanted to keep score, then let's really see who owed what.

I pulled out my phone, downloaded a budgeting app, and started making a list.

How much did my family spend on yesterday's wedding?

That 60,000-dollar wedding dress? My mom paid for it.

The jewelry? Another 27,000 dollars, also from my mom.

The wedding planner? My dad shelled out 40,000 dollars for that.

The reception was 130,000 dollars total. We split it down the middle. My family put up 65,000 dollars.

All in all, my family spent a total of 192,000 dollars on this wedding.

And what about David's family?

They only spent 65,000 dollars on the reception. And then there was our marital home.

Sure, the house is under David's name, but I covered half the renovation costs, 50,000 dollars out of 100,000.

I chipped in 30,000 dollars for the furniture and appliances, half of the total 60,000.

So, David, you wanted to tally things up, huh? Alright, let's get everything straight, then.

I jotted down every expense in the app, then crunched the numbers for the interest.

At the bank's annual rate of 4.35%.

I'd put 272,000 dollars into this house, so the yearly interest comes out to about 11,800 dollars.

That was 983 dollars every month.

So David wants me to pay 1,000 dollars for living expenses?

Alright, I would pay. But he'd better cough up the interest on what I'd invested in this place.