Hand Over My Salary? Enjoy the Divorce Instead

Vivian Spencer and I were one of those campus couples. Back in those days, graduation season was practically breakup season, but we somehow held onto each other all the way to the altar.

She used to daydream about saving up five million dollars and going around the world with me. Caught in the vision of the future she wove, I handed over my entire salary for her to manage, keeping just 200 dollars for myself as pocket money.

Those were the toughest years. I couldn't even bring myself to buy a single bar of chocolate from a convenience store. Most days, the two of us lived on little more than bread alone.

She never thought it was hard, so it never crossed her mind that I might be struggling alongside her.

After a few years, we managed to save a bit, just a modest five-figure sum. Looking at that number, I told myself all those years of scrimping had been worth it.

And when things started going our way, luck tended to follow. I landed a job at a foreign company, and just like that, my salary increased several times over.

That day, I took the chance to suggest we go out and celebrate at a restaurant.

Vivian hesitated. "Eating out is too expensive. It's just not worth it."

"It's just this once," I said. "It'll be 100 dollars at most for the two of us."

She frowned, clearly annoyed. "And we could get a lot of groceries from the grocery store with 100 dollars. How many dishes do you think we'll get for 100 dollars outside?"

So, my first real celebration in life was called off under her persuasion.

Perhaps Vivian saw the disappointment on my face, because she softened a little and offered to buy something and cook for me herself. It wasn't what I had in mind, but I didn't have much room to argue, so I agreed.

As we were about to head out, she said, "Transfer 100 dollars to me."

I froze.

She explained, "I've saved all my salary, so I don't have extra cash on hand. Besides, you're the one who wanted a feast, so you should be the one paying."

Honestly, my mind went blank when she said that. Maybe it was my stubborn defiance kicking in, but I pulled out my phone and sent her the money anyway.

The moment the money came through, she hurried downstairs, came back with a bag of ribs, and baked them all. They didn't taste nearly as good as I had imagined.

Around that time, I was scrolling through my feed and came across a post from a colleague who had job-hopped to the same foreign company as me. He was showing off.

He posted a photo of a perfectly plated steak with a glass of red wine. The caption read, "Finally made it into my dream company. Thank you, wifey, for treating me to a luxury dinner!"

I frowned a little.

Just then, Vivian leaned over and said, "Don't compare yourself to others. Both our families come from the countryside. We can't count on them for anything. We have to save up on our own.

"And once we have kids, we'll need even more money. Everywhere you look, it's expenses. So, we should save whenever we can."

Listening to her lay it all out like that, I couldn't deny that it made sense.

Both of our parents were farmers, tied to their small plots of land their whole lives. There was no way they could support us financially. In the end, everything would be on us.

After mulling it over, I let the matter go and stopped dwelling on it.

When my first paycheck from the new company came in, Vivian suggested we stick to the same agreement. She would manage everything, and I would keep only 200 dollars as pocket money.

I hesitated. I was already past 25, and I couldn't keep looking like a broke student forever.

"200 is too little," I said. "It's not even enough for a decent set of work clothes."

She went straight into her usual reasoning. "You're still young. There's no need to fuss over how you look. I mean, you're not a celebrity. Who are you dressing up for?"

I was about to respond when she continued, "Families like ours can't compare to those with parents supporting them. Think about the future… Tell you what—I'll leave you an extra 100. At least you can have a few cheat meals."

She sounded so convincing that I couldn't find the right words to refute. Ultimately, I handed over my entire salary and kept 300 dollars for myself.

That day, I used the extra 100 she had allowed me to buy a bunch of snacks. I brought them home, thinking we could share them, but she got upset instead.