Chapter 3

Their explosion came much sooner than I anticipated.

That Saturday, a package arrived. It was a classic Hermès bag I had asked a VIP client in Paris to source for me.

It was a style I had wanted for a long time, in a rare, limited-edition color.

The price tag was naturally jaw-dropping, equivalent to nearly three months of my base salary.

But I had just closed a massive M&A deal and received a substantial bonus. I felt this was the ultimate reward for my hard work.

I was happily unboxing it, checking the exquisite leather and craftsmanship, unable to take my eyes off it.

Tristan walked in from work and immediately saw the iconic orange box on the couch, along with the stunning, gleaming bag.

His face darkened instantly.

"Valerie!"

His voice cracked with a mixture of shock and rage.

"What... what did you buy now?! That box... is that Hermès?!"

I looked up, completely calm. "Yes. What about it?"

"What about it?!"

He stormed over to me, pointing a trembling finger at the bag.

"Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how much that costs?! Tens of thousands of dollars! You just went out and threw that kind of money away?!"

"First of all, I didn't 'just throw money away.' I waited for this bag for months and used my professional connections to get it. Second," I paused, looking directly into his furious eyes,

"how much it costs has absolutely nothing to do with you. This is my personal purchase, paid for with my pre-marital savings and my recent performance bonus.

The agreement clearly states: "luxury and non-essential personal purchases are the sole responsibility of the individual, and the other party shall not interfere."

"Shall not interfere?!"

He practically screamed.

"Valerie! We are married! When you throw money around like this, do you ever think about this family?! Do you ever think about our future?!"

"Family?"

I repeated the word, finding it incredibly ironic.

"Tristan, the moment you handed me that 50/50 agreement, didn't you redefine what 'family' means?"

"And our future? Isn't our future already laid out in that contract? We work individually, keep our finances separate, and bear our own risks."

"I am simply living out your grand plan."

I picked up the bag, gently running my hand over the smooth leather.

"I work hard, I make my own money, and I enjoy what I earn. Is there a problem?"

"You..." He was shaking with rage, utterly incoherent. "You are completely twisting my words! The 50/50 split was meant to make our household finances healthier, not for you to squander money like this!"

"Squander?" I scoffed. "Tristan, who defines what 'squandering' is? To you, anything that exceeds your own spending power is a waste? By that logic, since my income is significantly higher than yours, shouldn't my standard of living naturally be higher? The agreement never set a cap on personal spending."

"Or is it that, deep down, you think that even with a 50/50 split, my money should still be 'our' money, except I’m just not allowed to touch it?"

My words pierced right through his hidden, ugly intentions.

His face flushed a violent crimson.

"That's absolute garbage! I never said that!"

"Then what exactly do you mean?" I stepped closer, pressing him. "Did you, or did you not, propose the 50/50 split?"

"I did! But..."

"No 'buts'!" I cut him off, my voice turning icy. "Tristan, you set the rules, and the game has started. You don't get to complain or attack the other player just because you realized they’re playing the game better than you, or because the rules are suddenly making you uncomfortable. It’s incredibly pathetic."

He was completely silenced, his chest heaving violently.

Right then, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, immediately picked it up, and spoke in a loud, performative tone of victimhood.

"Hey, Mom... No, nothing's wrong, it's just... "Sigh"... Valerie bought another insanely expensive bag. An Hermès. It cost tens of thousands of dollars. I tried to talk to her, but she just screamed at me... I know, Mom, but..."

I watched him whine to his mother, my heart completely cold.

Honestly, I almost wanted to laugh.