Chapter 1

I'd been sticking with Simon Carter through his comeback for five years now.

Right now, I'd in a heated argument with someone, all for saving 2 dollars on parking.

Simon suddenly chimed in from beside me, "Yesterday, I sent your best friend Vivian a car worth one million dollars."

I stood there frozen, thinking my ears must be playing tricks on me.

But before I could get a word in, Simon pointed at the parking spot right in front of us. "The car was parked right here.

"Vivian was so thrilled, she kept begging me for it seven times. I ran out of condoms, so I gave her everything I had."

He grinned, clearly savoring the memory. "You called me home for dinner and asked where those cat noises were coming from.

"Honestly, I was going at it so hard, she couldn't help herself. She was screaming like a cat in heat."

I asked, my voice trembling, "You have money, so why…"

Simon seemed to know exactly what I was about to say. He laughed, "Silly girl, it's that your bestie Vivian is way too good at burning through cash.

"If she ever learned to be frugal, you wouldn't have to keep worrying about saving 2 dollars on parking."

As he spoke, Simon looked me up and down, his eyes showing a kind of contempt I'd never seen in him before.

He added, "And you should stop giving foot rubs to those old guys. She's pregnant with my kid.

"Anyway, you've got all those certificates for taking care of people. Does it really matter who you serve?"

I was in a daze, like a ghost wandering through the world.

I didn't remember how I got home. When I opened the door, the ceiling was leaking again.

The grease-caked exhaust fan creaked. The rotten, moldy smell from the bathroom still lingered in the air.

The dim yellow light barely let me make out the place I'd called home for five years.

I stared blankly at everything in front of me, feeling completely lost.

The only thing running through my head was what Simon said as he left in his Maybach. "Honestly, it only took me a year to make it big," he said.

Meanwhile, my best friend, Vivian White, back then, she told me she'd finally found her soulmate.

So for four years, over 1,400 days straight, my husband and my best friend had been sneaking around together the whole time.

They stood by, watching me struggle in this gloomy, leaking basement apartment.

Watching me fight over leftover veggie leaves at the market.

Watching me camp out by the dumpsters in a rundown neighborhood, picking up bottles till sunrise.

Watching me act like a fool, pinching and saving every dollar just to hand it all over to Simon so he could chase his dreams.

And every time he told me his business had failed, I'd end up comforting him, feeling sorry for him.

But now Simon told me he'd been rich this whole time. And all his money went to Vivian.

I was losing it, calling Simon again and again, desperate for an answer.

I wanted to ask him, "Why? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

But Simon calmly hung up on me, one call after another. Then he blocked me.

He used to stay up all night feeling guilty if he missed even a single text from me. Now, he blocked me without even blinking.

Less than ten minutes later, Simon showed up on Vivian's social media feed.

Maybe now that he'd laid it all out for me, he couldn't even be bothered to fake it anymore.

Simon didn't even take off his wedding ring before turning up at the auction.

He was right there in Vivian's photos and made a big scene for her, bidding 7 million dollars on a sapphire necklace.

And yesterday, he was all torn up because he couldn't even spare a dollar to buy me a bottle of milk.

Looking at that photo and seeing him splurge on another woman without a second thought, I couldn't stop myself anymore. My tears completely broke free.

When Simon came back, he was still wearing that designer suit from the auction.

He looked like the golden boy he used to be, before the Carter family lost everything.

I rubbed the threadbare sleeve of my sweater, trying to hide my calloused hands without even thinking about it.

Simon swung a bowl of chicken soup in front of me. "Vivian couldn't finish it, so I made a special trip to bring it back for you. Wouldn't want it to go to waste."

As he spoke, he shot me a mocking look. "Aren't you the one who's always obsessed with not wasting anything?"

I stared at the bag, recognizing the restaurant logo instantly. This was the spot I'd loved ever since I was little.

When Simon and I were dating, he used to take me there all the time.

Later, whenever I craved that flavor but couldn't afford it, I'd curl up under the blankets and quietly cry myself to sleep.

Simon would hold me and comfort me, saying, "Amy, when we've got money, I promise I'll take you there."

He repeated that promise again and again, but he never followed through.

By the time life had worn me down so much I was numb.

When I was so exhausted that I couldn't even let myself fantasize about a bowl of chicken soup costing 130 dollars, Simon brought it back.

But it was the leftovers from the woman he kept on the side.

I grabbed the vase next to me and threw it hard at him. The vase shattered instantly.

But the second I heard the shards flying everywhere, I, Amy, couldn't help but feel bad for wasting even a dollar vase.

For five years, those penny-pinching thoughts kept popping up in my head, over and over again.

Like when I broke a bowl by accident. Or when I used extra gas for a hot shower.

Or when I had a fever so bad I couldn't tough it out and had to buy medicine.

It finally hit me. Poverty had left me terrified of losing money.

For Simon, for the sake of surviving, I'd forced myself to become a penny-pinching hag, fighting over every last dollar.

All of a sudden, I burst out laughing like I'd lost my mind. But no matter how hard I tried, the tears just wouldn't stop.

I locked eyes with Simon, and for the second time, I couldn't help but ask, "Why?"