Chapter 1
I finally exploded, "So you gave your mom the entire 60 thousand dollars year-end bonus again? Fine. I'm done with this marriage."
Over the five years of my marriage, I'd worked myself to the bone supporting the household and paying the mortgage while my husband's paycheck had always gone straight into his mother's hands.
This year, when he got a 60 thousand dollar bonus, he handed over every cent without hesitation.
I didn't argue. I didn't cry. Instead, I packed my bags and bought a train ticket to another city.
My husband thought I was just throwing a tantrum. He even laughed and said, "Go relax. Cool off for a few days. You'll be back."
A month later, he started blowing up my phone. "The mortgage is about to default. Send money now."
I was eating barbecue and replied casually, "Go ask your mom. What did that have to do with me?"
His whole family lost their minds. His mother called me every day, screaming about how ungrateful and immature I was.
*****
60 thousand dollars.
My phone screen lit up, the bank notification about the deposit standing out in the dim garage.
I stared at all those zeros, my fingers tapping absently on the steering wheel until the screen went dark, then lit up again.
Another year, another bonus, and it was all going straight into that bottomless pit of an account.
As soon as I walked in, the smell of dinner hit me. My five-year-old daughter Jodie Bower was sitting on the floor, piecing together a puzzle. The moment she spotted me, she jumped up and ran over, arms stretched wide.
"Mommy," Jodie shouted.
I bent down and picked her up, her arms wrapping around my neck. Right then, all my tiredness felt totally worth it.
"So, what did you learn at preschool today?" I asked, rubbing my cheek against her soft face.
"We learned 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' Let me sing it for you," Jodie said, her voice filling the living room.
My husband, Ryan Bower poked his head out of the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready. I made your favorite chicken tenders tonight."
He was wearing that apron I'd bought him three years ago, with that same gentle smile on his face.
In our five years of marriage, he was the perfect husband in everyone else's eyes. He always came home on time, never pulled the whole 'man of the house' thing, took care of all the chores, and was always patient with our daughter.
But there was one thing: all his salary still went straight to his mother, Larissa.
At dinner, Jodie was bubbling with excitement, sharing all the funny stuff that happened at preschool. Ryan and I added a comment here and there. These cozy family moments almost had me fooled into thinking life was picture-perfect.
After dinner, once Jodie was asleep, Ryan fidgeted with his hands as he walked into the bedroom.
"Honey, um, the year-end bonus came in, right?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "Mom called today, asking about it."
I froze for a second, makeup remover in hand, and looked at him through the mirror. "Yeah, it came in."
"So, should we go transfer it tomorrow? Mom said she needs it earlier this year. There's some financial project she wants to get in on, and the deadline's coming up soon," he said.
I put down the makeup remover wipe and turned to face him. "Ryan, have you ever counted how much we've given your mom over the past five years?"
He paused, looking a bit uncomfortable. "You know, my dad passed away when I was young, and Mom had a hard time raising me by herself. She's just been managing our money for us all this time. She says it's for our own good."
"For our own good?" I cut him off. "Then why are we still stuck in this cramped place? Why do we spend months just thinking about getting a new car? Why do I have to hesitate every time I want to buy myself something that costs over 300 bucks?"
My questions left him frozen. We had this same fight every year, and every time, I was the one who caved.
"Babe, don't get all worked up." Ryan tried to soothe me. "Mom says she's just keeping the money safe for us. She promised to hand it all back when it's time for us to buy another place."
"Safe for us?" I nearly snorted. "We haven't even paid off the mortgage on this place. How are we supposed to buy a second one?"
"But..." Ryan hesitated.
"Let's talk about it tomorrow. I'm exhausted," I cut him off, turning and heading into the bathroom.
The hot water streamed over me as I closed my eyes, feeling the sharp sting of the droplets against my face.
My mind drifted to the assignment I got at work this afternoon. It was a chance to move to the Pronburgh branch for three years, with twice the pay and a big promotion.
I still hadn't given my boss an answer.
When I came out of the bathroom, Ryan was already lying in bed, scrolling through his phone. I sat down at my vanity to do my skincare routine, and in the mirror, I caught the look on his face. He wanted to say something but just couldn't get the words out.
"Honey." He finally put his phone down. "Mom just texted me again."
I whipped around. "Ryan, tell me, do you know how much Jodie's preschool costs next semester? Do you have a clue what our mortgage, car payment, and bills add up to every month?
"Do you realize how many nights I've been stuck working overtime just to keep things financially running?"
Ryan started to say something, but ended up looking down.
That night, I turned my back to him and didn't sleep a wink.
The next morning was Saturday, and Ryan got up early to whip up a big breakfast. He was walking on eggshells, trying to butter me up, same as every year when the bonus came in.
"Honey, Mom just called again to say the bank shuts at four today," he said gingerly while serving Jodie some eggs.