Seven Years Married — He Stole My Two Million

“What is your problem? I already bought you something to apologize—what more do you want?”

“Yes, you worked hard taking care of my mom, but that was your choice. When did I ever beg you to do it? Even without you, I could’ve found another matching kidney. Don’t think that saving my mom once makes you some kind of saint I have to worship.”

I let out a cold laugh, staring him straight in the eye.

“You think I took care of your mom to tie you to me? Don’t flatter yourself. Yes, it was my choice—and even if you weren’t her son, I still would have done it.”

“Daniel, stop putting yourself on a pedestal. To others, you might be a prize, but to me, you’re just an irresponsible, inadequate husband.”

I lifted my foot to head upstairs, but Daniel grabbed my wrist.

“So all of this is because you’re mad I bought Chloe a dress? Emma, you’re already twenty-eight—not some young girl anymore. There are plenty of young, beautiful women out there. How long are you going to keep getting jealous over them?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times—Chloe is my sister. We’re completely innocent. If you insist on misunderstanding, then think what you want. I’ve explained all I can.”

I nodded numbly and shook his hand off.

“Right, you’ve explained, and I’ve listened. Now can I go?”

Daniel looked like he was about to lose his mind, raking both hands through his hair in frustration.

“Emma, what do you even want? You insulted Chloe first, so I bought her a gift to make amends. If you weren’t going to pay for it, who was?

I know you’ve worked hard looking after my mom, but did I ever tell you to apologize to Chloe in person? No, right? I’ve already done more than enough—groveling out there for you, then coming home to your cold face. What do I owe you?”

I was about to say the word “divorce” when his phone suddenly rang.

The ringtone was a love song—Chloe’s custom ringtone.

The girlishly sweet voice was cloying.

The anger on Daniel’s face disappeared instantly.

Glancing at the screen, he didn’t even look at me as he said:

“Something came up at work. I won’t be back tonight. Cool off by yourself.

If you keep being this stubborn, the only thing left for us to talk about is divorce.”

I remembered he had handled my discharge from the hospital but hadn’t picked up my medication.

So I put on my coat to go get it myself.

Just as I was changing shoes, he stopped in his tracks, irritation written all over his face.

“You’re going to follow me to work now? Can you stop being so controlling? Do you know how suffocating you are right now?

Why don’t you just buy a dog leash and chain me up at home?”

With that, he tossed his keys down.

“Fine, you go. I’m not going anymore. I won’t work either. I’ll just stay home—you can support me.”

In the past, whenever he went out at night, I would remind him over and over to be careful.

But now, I didn’t even care about this marriage—much less this so-called husband.

I looked at him coldly.

“I’m just going to the pharmacy around the corner.”

A flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

“You should’ve said so earlier. I’ll take you—it’s on the way.”

The atmosphere in the car was stifling.

When we passed by a pharmacy, I told him to stop.

Daniel visibly relaxed, still putting on an act of concern.

“Be careful.”

As I got out, Chloe Miller’s video call popped up on his phone.

Her playful voice rang out:

“Let me see—since you didn’t reply to my messages earlier, is it because there’s another woman in the car?”

I turned my head and caught his gaze.

Flustered, he quickly muted it.

“Just watching some videos.”

Not bothering to argue, I turned and walked straight into the pharmacy.

Behind me, I heard the roar of his engine as his car sped away—every rev a testament to his urgency.