Chapter 1

I've been married to George for five years, and we've maintained the habit of getting annual checkups.

This year, feeling bad that I'd been working so hard for the family, he booked me a full-body examination worth three thousand dollars.

But on the day of the checkup, just as I was about to leave, I got a call from him:

"Betty says her breasts are bothering her again. I gave her your appointment slot. Just stay home and get dinner ready!"

I froze mid-step. My stomach, empty all morning, churned violently, and my heart sank with disappointment.

Betty was George's childhood friend. Whatever she asked for, he would never refuse.

I grabbed my bank card, planning to go to the hospital and book another checkup myself, but was told:

"There's no balance on this card. How can you make a reservation?"

I stood there as if struck by lightning. Five years of savings—how could there be nothing left?

I immediately called George, and he admitted it without hesitation.

"Betty majored in finance. Having her manage the money is the best choice. What would a housewife like you know about it?"

I gripped the bank card tightly. In that moment, my heart finally died.

"What? Are you sure?!"

I stood there clutching the bank card, anxious and confused, my brain completely shutting down.

Seeing I didn't believe her, the nurse swiped the card through the machine again, frowning impatiently:

"There's no money on this card. How am I supposed to charge you for the examination?"

"Don't you have a balance on your phone? Mobile payment works too..."

The nurse gently reminded me, but all I had on my phone was the fifty-six dollars George had given me for groceries. Nothing else.

Voices behind me in line grew impatient. Embarrassed and flushed, I apologized and hurried away with my card.

Only when I stood outside the hospital did my emotions gradually settle.

In our five years of marriage, George and I had agreed on how to handle our household savings—all income would be deposited into the card under my name.

There was no way it could have zero balance!

But where could my eighty thousand dollars in savings from five years have gone?

Suddenly, a terrifying thought flashed through my mind. With trembling hands, I called George to demand answers.

The moment he picked up, I heard George's puzzled voice calmly admitting everything:

"That's right, I transferred the eighty thousand in savings to Betty's name. She majored in finance and knows how to manage money—naturally better than a housewife like you."

I was so angry my voice shook, nearly losing control:

"Twenty thousand of that was mine! Who gave you permission to transfer my money to her without asking me!"

"You need to transfer my money back right now!"

Hearing my near-hysterical voice, George sighed with exasperation, his tone growing sharp:

"Is this little thing worth getting so worked up over? Betty's not a stranger. Worst case, I'll give it back to you later!"

As we reached this impasse, Betty's voice drifted over from a distance:

"George, there are way too many tests! My arm is all bruised from the needles. It hurts so much!"

George immediately softened his cold tone, speaking with careful tenderness:

"That's my fault. I was worried about your health, so I scheduled all these checkups. I'll buy you a bag later to make up for it..."

The two of them flirted shamelessly as if no one else existed. George's mother, Ruth, joined in with playful banter:

"If only Betty were my daughter-in-law! Maybe our family would finally have an heir!"

I felt like an outsider, left to the side, listening to their family chat.

All my anger dissolved into overwhelming grievance.

Even before marriage, I knew George had a close friend.

I'd been suspicious once, but George held me and coaxed me for a long time, swearing:

"I only think of Betty as a sister. Don't worry, I promise we'll never cross any lines!"

But those promises had now become evidence slapping me in the face.

I was such a fool, believing George year after year.

Betty seemed to deliberately move closer to the phone speaker, constantly acting cute and pitiful, clearly gloating despite getting everything she wanted.

I couldn't listen anymore. I hung up directly, tears gradually blurring my vision.

I used my remaining fifty-six dollars to take a cab home, too exhausted to speak.