Chapter 2
The next morning, I got up as usual and made breakfast for Andrew.
I made oatmeal, a piece of bread, and a glass of milk.
He sat down to eat, scrolling through his phone.
"Eggs are on sale in the neighborhood today, just 90 cents per pound. Grab some on your way home from work," Andrew said.
"Okay," I replied.
Andrew set his bowl down, leaving a bit of oatmeal at the bottom.
"I'm heading out," Andrew said, grabbing his car keys.
He left, closing the door.
I tipped the bit of oatmeal he left behind into my own bowl.
I'd been doing this same thing for five years.
He never once finished his oatmeal. And I never once threw it away.
After washing the dishes, I sat down at the dining table. The chair across from me, where Andrew had just been sitting, was still warm from his presence.
My mind drifted back to our wedding day.
There was no wedding or banquet.
Andrew said, "Let's hold off for now. Once we buy a house, we'll throw a real wedding." I said, "Alright."
Emma Barton, my mother-in-law, made a trip from her hometown, bringing along two quilts and a set of dishes.
Before she left, Emma held my hand and said, "Daniella, Andrew got burned in his last marriage. Just treat him well, and he'll treat you right."
That was what she said.
And I held onto those words for five years.
Over the past five years, the priciest thing I ever bought for myself was a cotton jacket on sale for 40 dollars.
That day, I tried it on twice and looked at the price tag three times.
Andrew said, "It looks nice. Go ahead and buy it."
I bought it.
On the way home, Andrew said, "Let's cut back on buying clothes, alright? If we keep saving, we'll almost have enough for the down payment next year."
I replied, "Okay."
I kept wearing that cotton jacket for three winters straight. By now, the collar was worn and fuzzy.
One summer, I walked past a fruit shop. Mangos were selling for six dollars a pound.
I just looked at them and walked away.
When I got home, Andrew was scrolling through his phone.
"Did you get the groceries?" he asked.
"Yeah, I picked up some cabbage, carrots, and some scallions," I replied.
"Yeah," Andrew said, without even looking up from his phone.
I made cabbage and carrots for dinner that night.
As we ate, Andrew said, "Your cooking's getting pretty good."
I replied, "When you cook with cheap stuff all the time, you just get good at it."
He didn't get what I really meant.
He just smiled and scooped up another mouthful of food.
I made 2.7 thousand dollars a month. I gave Emma 600 dollars for household expenses, and 1.3 thousand got automatically deducted from my paycheck.
After all that, I was left with just 800 dollars.
Andrew said he'd cover the rent and utilities, so I didn't have to worry about those.
But daily necessities and groceries came out of my 800 dollars.
By the end of each month, there was only 100 to 150 dollars left in my account.
One time, I checked my balance and saw there was only 25 dollars left.
There were still six days until payday.
In the fridge, there was half a head of cabbage and three eggs.
I did the math and figured that would be enough.
For those six days, I ate nothing but cabbage and eggs with bread.
Andrew had no idea.
While he was away on a business trip, he just said, "Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge" before heading out.
Besides the cabbage, there was also a container of yogurt he'd bought for himself.
I didn't touch the yogurt.
It was his, three dollars a container.
When Andrew got back from his trip and opened the fridge, he said, "The yogurt's still here. Why didn't you drink it?"
"Just didn't want it," I said.
"It's expired," Andrew said, checked the date, and threw it out.
Three bucks just wasted.
I just stared at the yogurt sitting in the trash, saying nothing.
On payday, my phone dinged with a message. My salary had just landed.
I never even checked my balance.
It was pointless. In two days, 1.3 thousand would disappear.
I'd gotten used to this routine: paycheck came in, and two days later, my balance took a nosedive.
I always thought that deduction was for rent and utilities.
The next day at work, I stopped by the bank during my lunch break.
At the counter, I asked the clerk to print out my bank statement for the past five years.
The printout was twenty-three pages, all on A4 paper.
I sat down on one of those chairs in the bank lobby and started flipping through the pages, one by one.
There were sixty transactions.
Every single one, always on the fifteenth, always for 1.3 thousand, always sent to Bonnie.
Not a single one was missing.
When I finished flipping through the last page, I closed the stack of papers.
The bank lobby was cool with the AC running, but my back was sweaty.
There were twenty-three pages.
After a moment's thought, I had them print another record. The monthly 600 dollars I'd been sending to Emma, per Andrew's instructions.
This stack was slimmer, sixty transactions. It was 40 thousand dollars in total.
When I added it all up, I stared at the calculator.
1.3 thousand dollars timed sixty equaled 78 thousand dollars.
Plus the forty thousand I gave to Emma, it was 118 thousand dollars.
In five years, it was 118 thousand in total.
I made 2.7 thousand dollars a month. Five years, that was around 162 thousand total.
They took 118 thousand dollars.
I spent 44 thousand dollars on myself over five years, just on daily necessities, groceries, and the occasional outfit.
That was about 800 dollars a month on average.