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Hand Over My Salary? Enjoy the Divorce Instead Novel Cover

Hand Over My Salary? Enjoy the Divorce Instead

After securing a high-paying overseas role, the protagonist is shocked when his wife, Vivian Spencer, demands his entire paycheck for household costs while hoarding her own income for retirement. Testing her logic, he begins spending every penny of his salary on luxury packages, exactly as she requested. When Vivian panics over the depleted funds, the facade of her financial control crumbles. This romance novel explores the breaking point of a marriage built on fiscal double standards.
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Chapter 3

Within a minute, Vivian received Brian's message of thanks. She came straight to me, demanding, "You lent him 50 thousand dollars? Where did the other half come from?"

This time, I didn't argue. I answered flatly, "I borrowed it from someone."

"You only have 300 dollars a month. How are you going to pay back 25 thousand? I'm telling you right now, I am not helping you with that!"

I looked at her like she had just made a joke. I said nothing and turned to walk into the small bedroom.

I thought she might come after me, but she went straight to the master bedroom and fell asleep as if nothing had happened.

The next morning, Vivian acted unbothered, but I could tell something was off.

We went to work as usual, clocked out as usual, and even went grocery shopping like we always did. I asked her what she wanted to eat, but she simply brushed it off and told me to decide.

Faced with that attitude, I stopped asking.

At the checkout counter, I was bagging things while listening to the total being scanned. "That'll be 101 dollars."

I was short by a dollar. I turned to look at Vivian, but she was already standing far away near the exit, her eyes wandering everywhere but in my direction.

The cashier reminded me again, "Sir, your total is 101 dollars. How would you like to pay?"

Feeling awkward, I pulled out a 100-dollar bill and called Vivian. She glanced at her phone, then stuffed it back into her pocket. The people in line behind me began to complain.

"Ugh, it's just a few items. Why is he taking so long to pay?"

"What's with young people nowadays, living paycheck to paycheck? Can't even pull out another dollar?"

"If you don't have money, don't come spending at the grocery store!"

Their complaints kept piling up. I could feel my face burning.

Eventually, I had no choice but to take out my favorite chili sauce and put it back, just to bring the total down. The cashier didn't say anything, but the look she gave me said enough.

When I walked over to Vivian with the bags, she immediately started complaining too. "Took you a decade just to check out."

A knot of anger tightened in my chest. I kept my voice down and shot back, "I was a dollar short. I wouldn't have taken so long if you had just picked up the damn phone."

"Why didn't you ask your colleague instead? Aren't you pretty good at that?"

I stared at her in disbelief. The situation felt absurd.

"That was an emergency, while this is just groceries for both of us," I snapped. "Why did you walk off without paying?"

Vivian let out a cold laugh, hands in her pockets. "I paid for groceries last week. This week, it's your turn. And you need to know your limits when you shop. You can't just grab whatever you want.

"I don't waste money like you. I only buy what's necessary. That's why I never go over budget, not even by a dollar."

I almost laughed from how ridiculous she sounded. She took ten thousand from me every month, yet I didn't even have the right to overspend by a dollar.

Before I could say more, she grabbed the bags and walked out, calling for me to follow. I didn't drag out the fight in front of everyone. I just followed her.

Back home, Vivian started unpacking the groceries.

"Four apples for ten dollars? What did you buy, gold-plated apples? And these potatoes—there are ones for ten cents per pound. Why did you buy the ones at 50 cents?"

Her nonstop complaints finally made something in me snap. I grabbed the bags and threw all the groceries out the door.

"Zane Ford, are you crazy? Why are you throwing perfectly good food away?" she shouted.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I raised my voice. "Yeah, maybe I am!"

She shot me a look of disgust, then went out and picked up every piece of food I had thrown away. She even rinsed the cooked items that had fallen on the ground with water and placed them back on the table.

"You're really something, huh? Throwing away 100 dollars' worth of groceries," she remarked coldly.

Even now, she was still mocking me.

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