Chapter 2 Three Thousand and Three Hundred

"Alright, whatever you say. Help me wrap up the entire set."

A chill spread through my entire body, as if I had been thrown straight into an ice pit.

I recognized that man's voice.

It was Brooke's crush, Isaac Jamison.

It felt as though a dull blade had carved into my heart. My nails dug deep into my palms as I fought back the sting in my eyes. My voice trembled. "Brooke… you can spend 3 thousand on a set of underwear for him, yet you won't give me 300 to buy a suit?"

Her voice faltered for a split second, as if anger were masking her panic. "What nonsense are you talking about? Can't I give a gift to a friend without you interfering?"

Bitterness flooded my chest.

A friend? The kind of friend she bought underwear for?

My own underwear had holes worn through them, yet Brooke had never once cared.

"You're suspicious all day long. I'm sick of it!"

The call ended abruptly.

It felt like I had been slapped across the face—numb, yet still stinging.

A tight, suffocating pain gripped my chest, forcing me to crouch down where I stood.

My daughter ran over, tugging at my hand as she asked again and again, "All the other kids' parents will be there tomorrow for Children's Day… Mom will come too, right?"

I forced a smile, gently patting her head. I could not bear to tell her that the mother she had been longing for was out accompanying another man.

After coaxing her away, I opened the wardrobe and stared blankly at the clothes inside.

Since quitting my job, I had not bought a single new piece of clothing. I did not even have one decent shirt. Most of my T-shirts were stretched out of shape and faded. Some had even yellowed. There were stubborn oil stains splattered across them from cooking, marks that could never be washed out no matter how hard I tried.

That was everything I owned. And my wife expected me to wear these to attend the Children's Day event our daughter had been looking forward to.

The door suddenly burst open, and my mother-in-law stormed in.

The moment she saw the clothes laid out on my bed, she slapped me across the face. "What are you doing, fussing over these cheap rags all day instead of cooking? No matter how much you preen, you can't hide that stink of poverty! My daughter must have been blind to end up with a useless man like you, living off her and still too lazy even to handle housework!"

I covered my face. Instinctively, anger rose in me, but I clenched my teeth and swallowed it down. "That's not it! I'm going to Jane's Children's Day performance tomorrow, so I—"

She cut me off harshly, her face filled with contempt. "Attend Jane's performance? Look at yourself in the mirror. Don't embarrass my granddaughter!"

With that, she drove me out of the house.

Before I left, she cut up every piece of clothing in my wardrobe, telling me to stop entertaining any foolish thoughts. "You don't earn a cent, yet you want to spend money? My daughter works herself to the bone. Do you think it's so you can dress up and show off like some pretty boy?"

I walked the streets numbly, feeling like a ridiculous clown. But when I thought of the anticipation in my daughter's eyes, I forced the tears back down.

I could not let the Children's Day she had waited so long for be ruined because of me.

Swallowing my pride, I begged around until I finally found a temporary job. Three hours for 500 dollars—enough to buy a decent outfit.

There was a mountain of laundry to wash. Many of the undergarments had been torn. My hands, already swollen from soaking in detergent for too long, became even more frighteningly inflamed.

Then, as I turned, I saw something familiar in the dirty laundry basket.

Just then, a noise came from the doorway. Someone had returned.

The front door was pushed open violently, and a man and woman stumbled in, locked in a desperate, heated kiss.

I instinctively lowered my head to apologize, only to catch sight of a pair of high heels I recognized.

Slowly, I looked up.

Brooke—the same woman who had claimed she was busy—had her eyes closed as she fervently kissed Isaac Jamison. Her clothes had already been torn into disarray.

"Isaac, slow down… Stop it. You're so annoying. I just bought this underwear…"

With the face mask covering my face, Brooke did not recognize me.

She did not even notice I was there.