On my wedding day, I was scrambling to cover my mom's surgery.

At the last minute, I asked to raise the dowry from $88,000 to $280,000.

Lily Simmons agreed without a word. Changed the amount herself, calm as ever.

But as we climbed into the wedding car, two words drifted to my ears, light as air:

"Gold digger."

From that day on, she paraded her affairs in public. Let strangers call me the husband with a price tag. Even on our third anniversary—while I sat in a hospital waiting room, stomach cramping, too broke to pay my own bill—she was in Harbor City, lighting up the sky with a fireworks show for her latest lover.

I stared at the payment slip. $152.

I called her. "Lily, let's get a divorce."

"Here we go again." A bored sigh. "How much do you want this time?

——

Fifty thousand? A hundred? A hundred fifty?"

Before I could answer, a man's laugh cut through—bright, teasing.

"Lily, you dropped five hundred grand on some random street beggar yesterday. Why so stingy with your own husband?"

"Because..." She paused. When she spoke again, contempt dripped from every syllable. "Some people are only worth that much."

Her words sliced through me like a poisoned blade.

Ever since I'd changed the dowry, that warmth in her eyes—the way she used to look at me—had vanished completely. I knew I'd hurt her. I tried everything to make it right.

I cooked for her myself.

She laughed in my face. "How much for this meal? Put a price on it first—let me see if I can afford your cooking."

Even in bed, she'd say it.

"What's tonight's rate? Name your number."

I explained it to her. Again and again.

That day—our wedding day—my mom collapsed. Cerebral hemorrhage. Emergency surgery. If the money didn't come through, she wouldn't survive. That's why I asked for more. That's the only reason.

She never believed me.

"Using your own mother's life to squeeze out more cash." She looked down at me like I was dirt beneath her designer heels. "Matthew Gilbert, I never realized how twisted you really are."

Now, listening to fireworks explode through the phone, I kept my voice flat. "I don't want your money. I just want the divorce. When are you coming back? We'll file at City Hall."

Still, she didn't believe me.

"You? Walk away from the Simmons fortune?" Ice dripped from her laugh. "Fine. Return every cent of that dowry first. Then we'll see how serious you really are."

She hung up.

Her words echoed in my skull.

Everyone said marrying Lily Simmons was like winning the lottery. Son-in-law to a wealthy dynasty. A life of luxury handed to me on a silver platter.

Nobody knew the truth.

In three years of marriage, Lily hadn't given me a single dollar.

My old company let me go the moment they learned who I'd married—too scared of the Simmons name to keep me around. Every interview after that ended the same way. Polite rejections. Apologetic smiles. Doors closing in my face.

Every dollar I'd spent came from savings I'd scraped together before the wedding. And that money was long gone—burned through on Mom's medical bills and basic survival.

I had less than a hundred bucks to my name.

Where was I supposed to find $280,000?

I stood frozen, the payment slip crumpling in my ice-cold grip. Beside me, some girl watching the fireworks livestream let out an envious sigh.

"Oh my God, the way Ms. Simmons is looking at her boyfriend—it's practically dripping with love. She's so in love. This is literally a girl-boss CEO coming to life!"

"Yeah, I heard today is her boyfriend's birthday. During the day he made a wish that he wanted to watch a fireworks show, and Ms. Simmons threw down a million to make it happen. I'm so jealous."

"But I heard Ms. Simmons is already married…"

"So what? In rich families, holding the husband on the left and the lover on the right is totally normal. Besides, her husband is just a kept man. People like him only have money in their eyes and no love. He wouldn't care how many men Ms. Simmons has outside."

Lily and I could've been a fairy tale come to life.

She was the eldest legitimate daughter of the prestigious Simmons family. The family's future and only heir.

My family background was ordinary. I also had a mom who'd been bedridden for years and needed support.

Not long after we got together, I confessed my family's situation to her. I thought she'd be like everyone else—hearing about my bedridden mom, she'd feel like backing off.

But she didn't.

She just held my hand, eyes full of heartache for me. With a trembling voice, she said, "These years you've been so tired, haven't you? From now on, I'll be with you."

She told me, "Matthew, no matter where you go, no matter what you do, don't forget that I'm behind you."

Back then, a lot of people said meeting Lily was the luckiest thing in my life. Including me—I thought so too.

Back then, no one expected that a wedding I was looking forward to so much would not only brand me with a gold-digger label I couldn't tear off, but also drain away all the love she had for me.

Even now, I still remember. After I got that money, I rushed in a panic to pay for my mom's surgery. And my mom's attending doctor suddenly changed from the urgency of just moments before, speaking to me earnestly.

"Mr. Gilbert, your mother doesn't have any problems at all. Everything just now was Mrs. Simmons's test of you. She wanted to see whether you're actually qualified to be the Simmons family's son-in-law."

"She asked me to pass on that she's not very satisfied with your performance. If you want to continue sitting firmly in the position of the Simmons family's son-in-law, you'll need to work at it."

"Also, Mrs. Simmons will arrange a better medical team for your mother next, but she has one condition: she hopes you can keep your mouth shut about this matter."

Because of Aria Simmons's warnings—overt and covert—I didn't dare gamble with my mom's life. No matter how Lily misunderstood me, I never told her the truth.

But when I found out she was cheating, and there was an attractive, bright girl by her side, I still went crazy and started making a scene.

I grabbed her clothes, crying so hard I couldn't make a sound. Again and again I asked her humbly, "Lily, I'm begging you—can you not treat me like this?"

Facing my pleading, there wasn't the slightest softening on her icy face. She stiffly pried my hand open. Word by word, she said, "Matthew, on the day we got married, you raised your price on the spot and trampled my family's dignity under your feet. At that moment, in my heart, you were already dead."

"The you right now is nothing more than a woman I bought with money. What right do you have to demand anything of me?"

Later, she became even more unrestrained. The men around her were replaced again and again. The sleeping pills I kept in the nightstand emptied bottle after bottle in day after day of insomnia.

At this moment, I didn't have money to buy medicine. I could only turn around and go home. But when I reached the front door, I found the villa's main gate tightly shut, with not a bit of light inside.

I covered my stomach, which still faintly hurt, and with difficulty pressed the doorbell.

"Jasmine, are you there? Please help me open the door."

I clenched my teeth and shouted through the intercom.

The butler's cold voice crackled back. "Miss has just set a curfew. After ten o'clock, no one is allowed to enter or leave—including you. It's now 10:01. The curfew has passed. Sir, please don't make this difficult for us."

I touched the seventy dollars left in my pocket. A wave of bleakness washed over me.

I slowly lowered myself onto the front steps, clutching my stomach, hugging myself tight—trying to find some warmth.

But sitting there, I suddenly remembered my junior year of college. I'd finished my part-time job off-campus and rushed back, only to miss the dorm curfew. I was standing there, helpless, not knowing what to do—when Lily appeared like an angel descending from the sky. She brought me back to this villa and told me gently, "Matthew, the front door here is always open for you. This is your home. A place that belongs to you."

And now—I looked at what I'd once called home. It felt like a stranger's house.

I sat at the villa entrance all night. By the time Jasmine Lambert woke up and opened the door, my limbs had gone stiff and numb.

"Sir, why didn't you find somewhere to stay?" She rushed to help me up. "Hurry, come inside—you'll catch your death."

When her hand touched my frozen palm, she flinched. Something shifted in her eyes—pity, and something deeper.

She didn't say anything more. She hurried to the kitchen to make ginger soup.

These past three years, when everyone else despised me and cursed my name, only Jasmine believed in me. She'd told me once: "You're not the kind of man who's greedy for status. If you did what they say, you must have had no choice. I believe you."

Back then, we'd barely spent any time together—just the few visits I'd made before the wedding. But she was the one who chose to believe me. And Lily, who kept saying she loved me? She never did.

Funny, when you thought about it.

I finished the ginger soup and the breakfast Jasmine made, then went back to my room to wash up.

Just as I was about to rest, voices drifted through the door—a man's ingratiating tone, a woman's playful complaint.

"This is all your fault. Last night you didn't hold back at all—kept going and going. My waist is killing me."

"My fault. Want me to rub it for you?"

Lily's voice. That familiar, clear voice—except now it carried a happy, slightly hoarse lilt I barely recognized. When was the last time I'd heard her laugh like that?

My eyes landed on the divorce agreement sitting on the nightstand.

I got up, grabbed it, and walked out the door—only to find Lily and her lover, Simon Pruitt, locked in a passionate kiss in the hallway. His hand was sliding down her thigh.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said quietly. "I just need a few minutes."

The tenderness in Lily's eyes vanished the instant they landed on me, replaced by something sharp and cold. Simon stood beside her, arrogantly straightening his back, showing off the trail of red marks down his pale neck.

"Matthew—so you are home. I thought you missed curfew last night and had to sleep somewhere else."

I ignored his mockery.

I walked toward Lily.