2

##Chapter 2

Everyone said I married David for his money.

But the truth was quite the opposite.

The day after our wedding, he boldly asked for all my account information.

"My money must be used to keep the company running, you understand, right, Bella?"

I didn't object.

I believed maintaining a marriage was a joint responsibility, even if he was reluctant to disclose his assets. I didn't want to quibble with David over this.

Until I discovered that my account balance was draining away like water from an empty tank.

Checking the transaction records, I was shocked to find David had been using my money to buy gifts for Jenny.

He bought Jenny a limited edition lipstick worth a hundred thousand dollars and a diamond necklace valued at three million dollars. He even rented an entire castle just for her birthday.

Yet in seven years of marriage, he had never spent a hundred dollars on a cake for our anniversary. Instead, he made do with a printed card.

I confronted him with the transaction records. His face darkened instantly. He accused me of being materialistic, saying he was so sick of my not trusting him. That night, he left home and gave me the cold shoulder for a month.

I couldn't tolerate it anymore. I immediately called David.

After numerous attempts without an answer, I took a deep breath to calm my surging emotions and then called the bank to freeze my accounts.

Less than ten minutes later, David called back.

"Did you try calling me earlier? I didn't see."

"It's taken care of," I replied coldly.

"Oh, that's good." He paused before continuing, "By the way, your account is frozen. You should handle it."

"No need."

"What do you mean?"

"I froze it."

Silence ensued on the other end before David snapped, "What are you trying to do? Throwing a tantrum again?"

"You said you wouldn’t use my card again," I responded calmly.

David scoffed, saying I had changed.

But who really changed?

I never argued with him about money.

In our first year of marriage, when I urgently needed surgery costing a million dollars, he invested our last savings in a doomed project.

When he knelt beside my hospital bed, begging for forgiveness, not only did I not blame him, but I also comforted him by holding his hand, saying, "You didn’t mean it."

I had indulged him too much, allowing him to hurt me time and again.

"I know you're upset about me traveling with Jenny," David said. "But it was for work."

"If you're really unhappy, let’s go on another honeymoon later, okay?"

"For now, stop this nonsense, Bella. Unfreeze the account in three minutes. I'm meeting an important client. Hurry up."

Worried that I would refuse again, he hung up immediately after speaking.

All my previous compromises were to protect our marriage from cracks. But now there was no need. I wouldn’t let him trample on me anymore.

"If you need funds for entertaining, ask Jenny. She led this project. She should have applied for contingency funds in advance."

After sending this message to David, I turned off my phone and drove back to my apartment.

Yes, my apartment.

When buying this property, I had planned to spend the rest of my life here with David.

But he was busy dating Jenny at the restaurant.

In frustration, I removed his name from the property deed.

Looking back now, I felt it was one of the few right decisions I'd made. At least now I could freely dispose of this property. I planned to sell it and had already contacted a real estate agent.

After meeting with the agent, I went to the state court.

The divorce agreement had been prepared long ago. David’s signature on it was genuine.

That day, when I presented the agreement, he was about to leave for Iceland with Jenny to see the Northern Lights. He signed the last page without hesitation.

"Why don’t you look at what it says?" I challenged him.

"I trust you, dear," he replied as he pulled away from me. "Don’t delay my flight."

I smirked bitterly. Trust? It was merely an excuse for David to get rid of me.

The clerk accepted my divorce application but informed me that it couldn’t be processed until David personally acknowledged the marital breakdown.

Even after I presented photos, recordings, and transaction records—all proving his infidelity, she still shook her head. "Sorry, ma'am, those are the rules."

As I pondered my next steps, David called again.

"Why haven’t you unfrozen the account?!"

"I urgently need funds, Bella!"

"If you keep this up, I'm divorcing you!"

I cooled my voice. "Are you sure you want a divorce, David?"

"Yes!" he roared. "Divorce! You're being unreasonable!"

Click—

The phone went dead again.

Only then did the clerk believe that my relationship with David had indeed broken down. She looked at me sympathetically. "You can get your divorce certificate in a month."

Relieved by the permission granted, I exhaled deeply.

I knew David's intent for divorce wasn't genuine. It was just another way to manipulate me.

This was his usual tactic.

But what he didn’t realize was that my patience for him was like water in a glass—every drop he took brought it closer to empty. Sooner or later, it would run dry.

Eager to sell the apartment, I told the agent to lower the price. By the third day, a buyer reached out. Soon after, with the agent’s help, I signed the paperwork and finalized the transfer.

When I returned home, the sight of clothes and shoes scattered in the entryway greeted me. And from the living room—David’s ragged breathing.