After I resign from a private company and move to work at an overseas company, my salary has increased by leaps and bounds.

My wife, Vivian Spencer, who's always been smart about money, suggests that I turn in all of my salary. At the same time, she will decrease my allowance.

Her reasoning is that she needs to use my salary on our family's daily expenses, so she can't spare me a single cent.

As I watch Vivian record all the expenses dutifully, I can't resist asking, "What about your salary, then?"

Vivian replies in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm saving it up for our retirement pension."

I don't bother responding afterward. Since then, I start spending every single cent of my salary, as per Vivian's suggestion.

When Vivian notices the stream of packages being delivered to our home, she finally can't take it anymore.

Upon hearing her question, I tell her happily, "You were the one who said that my salary is meant for our family's expenses!"

Vivian exclaims in shock, "What sort of family do you think we are? As if we can afford to spend this much money every month!"

What a joke. It turns out that Vivian knows that a regular family's expenses can't possibly drain every single cent of my salary in one go.

Vivian Spencer and I were one of those campus couples. Back in those days, graduation season was practically breakup season, but we somehow held onto each other all the way to the altar.

She used to daydream about saving up five million dollars and going around the world with me. Caught in the vision of the future she wove, I handed over my entire salary for her to manage, keeping just 200 dollars for myself as pocket money.

Those were the toughest years. I couldn't even bring myself to buy a single bar of chocolate from a convenience store. Most days, the two of us lived on little more than bread alone.

She never thought it was hard, so it never crossed her mind that I might be struggling alongside her.

After a few years, we managed to save a bit, just a modest five-figure sum. Looking at that number, I told myself all those years of scrimping had been worth it.

And when things started going our way, luck tended to follow. I landed a job at a foreign company, and just like that, my salary increased several times over.

That day, I took the chance to suggest we go out and celebrate at a restaurant.

Vivian hesitated. "Eating out is too expensive. It's just not worth it."

"It's just this once," I said. "It'll be 100 dollars at most for the two of us."

She frowned, clearly annoyed. "And we could get a lot of groceries from the grocery store with 100 dollars. How many dishes do you think we'll get for 100 dollars outside?"

So, my first real celebration in life was called off under her persuasion.

Perhaps Vivian saw the disappointment on my face, because she softened a little and offered to buy something and cook for me herself. It wasn't what I had in mind, but I didn't have much room to argue, so I agreed.

As we were about to head out, she said, "Transfer 100 dollars to me."

I froze.

She explained, "I've saved all my salary, so I don't have extra cash on hand. Besides, you're the one who wanted a feast, so you should be the one paying."

Honestly, my mind went blank when she said that. Maybe it was my stubborn defiance kicking in, but I pulled out my phone and sent her the money anyway.

The moment the money came through, she hurried downstairs, came back with a bag of ribs, and baked them all. They didn't taste nearly as good as I had imagined.

Around that time, I was scrolling through my feed and came across a post from a colleague who had job-hopped to the same foreign company as me. He was showing off.

He posted a photo of a perfectly plated steak with a glass of red wine. The caption read, "Finally made it into my dream company. Thank you, wifey, for treating me to a luxury dinner!"

I frowned a little.

Just then, Vivian leaned over and said, "Don't compare yourself to others. Both our families come from the countryside. We can't count on them for anything. We have to save up on our own.

"And once we have kids, we'll need even more money. Everywhere you look, it's expenses. So, we should save whenever we can."

Listening to her lay it all out like that, I couldn't deny that it made sense.

Both of our parents were farmers, tied to their small plots of land their whole lives. There was no way they could support us financially. In the end, everything would be on us.

After mulling it over, I let the matter go and stopped dwelling on it.

When my first paycheck from the new company came in, Vivian suggested we stick to the same agreement. She would manage everything, and I would keep only 200 dollars as pocket money.

I hesitated. I was already past 25, and I couldn't keep looking like a broke student forever.

"200 is too little," I said. "It's not even enough for a decent set of work clothes."

She went straight into her usual reasoning. "You're still young. There's no need to fuss over how you look. I mean, you're not a celebrity. Who are you dressing up for?"

I was about to respond when she continued, "Families like ours can't compare to those with parents supporting them. Think about the future… Tell you what—I'll leave you an extra 100. At least you can have a few cheat meals."

She sounded so convincing that I couldn't find the right words to refute. Ultimately, I handed over my entire salary and kept 300 dollars for myself.

That day, I used the extra 100 she had allowed me to buy a bunch of snacks. I brought them home, thinking we could share them, but she got upset instead.

Vivian rummaged through the bag, going through everything, complaining one moment that I had bought too much, the next that everything was too expensive.

In the end, she went straight into lecturing me. "You only have 300 dollars a month. You spent 100 dollars on snacks. How is the remainder supposed to cover groceries and meals? You need to plan your spending!

"This month, buy a bag of chips—then next month, maybe a drink. That way, you don't overspend, and you'll still get to try everything… I'll let this slide, but don't let it happen again."

At first, I honestly thought I had misheard her. Yet when I saw the look on her face, I knew I hadn't. I was just about to lose my temper when my younger brother, Brian Ford, called.

He asked to borrow 50 thousand dollars to buy a car and said he would pay me back by the end of the year once his bonus came in. The amount he asked for was almost exactly what we had saved.

After I hung up, Vivian piped up before I could. "No—don't even think about it! He says he'll pay it back by the end of the year, but can he really? Will his bonus even reach 50 thousand?"

Brian worked at a company with solid benefits. Even as someone only a year into his job, his year-end bonus could easily reach that amount. His monthly salary was around ten thousand dollars, and his wife also earned well.

Still, they had just gotten married and hadn't had the chance to build up savings yet, which was why he'd turned to me for help.

Vivian fell silent. Seeing that, I tried again. "He'll definitely pay it back by the end of the year. Listen to me and transfer the money to him, okay?"

The firmness in my tone prompted her to speak up. "Our money is locked in a fixed deposit. If we take it out now, we'll lose six thousand dollars in interest."

"But Brian's in a pickle right now. Interest can be earned at any other time. Family matters more."

"I'm not lending it, no matter what you say."

Looking at her cold face, I felt something inside me sink. The disappointment hit hard.

"Fine. If you won't lend it, give me back the money I've been handing you every month."

At that point, anyone else might have softened, but Vivian only doubled down.

"We're a family. Why are you labeling things as 'yours' and 'mine'? It's not that we can't lend it. It's that we can't take it out. Fixed deposits can't just be withdrawn."

Did she really think I was that ignorant?

When Brian called again, I glanced at Vivian, who then grabbed her things and slammed the door on her way out. I picked up, steadying my voice, and lied, saying that I hadn't spoken to Vivian yet and that we would discuss it tonight.

Cautiously, he asked, "She doesn't want to, does she?"

I quickly covered for her. "No, it's nothing like that. She's been busy at work today. I just haven't had the chance to talk to her. Give me a day. I'll get back to you tomorrow."

Brian sounded relieved and hung up happily.

That night, Vivian and I had a full-blown fight. It escalated to the point that it nearly turned physical.

I lost control and smashed whatever I could get my hands on. In the middle of the shouting, she finally transferred 25 thousand dollars to me. "Half—that's all we're lending!"

At that moment, I didn't feel any relief at all. It was my money to begin with, so why did it feel like I had to beg for her approval?

Later, I borrowed another 25 thousand dollars from a colleague and scraped together the full amount for Brian. He was over the moon, thanking me profusely, and even said that he wanted to call Vivian personally to express his gratitude.

I didn't know how to explain it to him, so I told him a text message would suffice.

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.