My wife had such a compassionate heart that she brought the young homeless man outside our apartment home for dinner, then demanded I give up my room so he could stay there.

She spent the entire down payment I had saved on designer clothes for him and took him to five-star restaurants. She said she was only helping him and told me not to be so petty.

Then, I got sick and ended up in the hospital. I called my wife and asked her to use the emergency funds in our bank account to pay for my surgery. She agreed right away. Despite that, I waited an entire day and missed the surgery, and the doctor told me I had only one month left to live.

She never brought the money. Instead, I saw the photos she had posted on social media during her travels. My wife leaned against the homeless man in front of a famous landmark, smiling like she had everything she wanted.

The caption read, "Wyatt said he's never been to any famous landmarks, so even if I have to spend every last cent, I'm going to take him around the world so he won't have any regrets. Also, someone was so afraid I'd spend money on Wyatt that he lied about being sick. He has no compassion at all!"

Only then did I realize her so-called sympathy was just an excuse for falling for someone else.

In that case, I did not want her anymore.

I was broke, so I sold my wedding ring just to scrape together enough money to pay for the medical bills.

After I was discharged, I took the divorce papers my wife, Hannah, had signed to the courthouse and filed for divorce. She had thrown those papers in my face last year to force me to agree to let Wyatt Ford move in.

Back then, she had said with red-rimmed eyes, "If you can't make room for Wyatt, we'll get divorced."

Because I loved her, I endured it like a fool. I never thought those same divorce papers would end up being useful now.

The filing went smoothly. The clerk told me I could finalize the divorce once the waiting period was over. I counted the days and realized I would be able to finish it before I died, and I could feel the weight being lifted from my chest.

For the next two weeks, Hannah's social media looked like a travel magazine. She took Wyatt all over the Western continent, visiting every landmark she could find. Wyatt was wearing brand-new designer clothes in every photo, and the shoes on his feet cost more than six months of my salary.

As for me, I forced myself to work at the company during the day and washed dishes at a restaurant starting at five in the afternoon. After that, I would Uber on my electric scooter.

I had asked around. Even the cheapest cemetery plot costs eight thousand.

Other than the three thousand dollars in salary I had not been paid this month, I was still short a full five thousand dollars. So, even with less than a month left, even when it felt like there was a knife twisting inside of me, I did not have the bravery to stop working.

That day, while I was washing dishes, my phone suddenly rang. As soon as I answered, Hannah's furious voice could be heard through the kitchen. "Nathan, didn't I text you and tell you to come pick up Wyatt and me? Why aren't you here yet? Do you know Wyatt and I have been waiting at the airport for two hours?!"

If I had heard Hannah say that in the past, I would have apologized repeatedly before rushing over to pick her up. But now, I simply said, "I didn't see the text, and I don't have time right now. Get back home yourself."

The tone of her voice instantly went up as she said, "Nathan, are you still mad because I spent money on Wyatt? I already told you I was only feeling bad for him! And I haven't even talked to you about pretending to be sick yet!"

I stopped listening and hung up.

By the time I finished all my part-time jobs and got home, it was already past eleven at night.

I dragged myself home, exhausted. I had barely opened the door when I saw Hannah lying in Wyatt's arms on the couch, the two of them laughing as they watched the television.

Hannah quickly pulled away from Wyatt when she heard the sound.

She looked at me with an annoyed look on her face. "So, you actually remembered to come home? Do you know Wyatt had to carry all the luggage because you didn't pick us up? He was exhausted. Can't you have a little more compassion?!"

I ignored her and calmly took off my shoes by the door, but that only made Hannah more irritated. She got up and walked toward me, but Wyatt quickly tried to calm her down. "Nathan was probably busy with work. He didn't mean it. Don't be mad, Hannah. I'm not tired. Oh, right. Nathan, Hannah and I brought you a gift."

He then walked over as if he was presenting me with a treasure and handed me a box. Inside was a scarf printed with some landmarks. It was made of cheap synthetic fabric, with rough threads sticking out along the edges.

The moment I saw it, my throat physically tightened. I was severely allergic to that kind of fabric. The last time I had accidentally touched it, I had been rushed straight to the emergency room. I yelled, "Take it away!"

When Wyatt heard that, he pushed the scarf even closer. "Nathan, I picked this out especially for you. Don't you like it?"

"I said take it away!" My breathing was already turning ragged.

"Nathan, what kind of attitude is that?!" Hannah snatched the box and shoved it into my arms. "Wyatt was kind enough to bring you a present. Who are you making that face for?!"

The synthetic fabric brushed my wrist, and a red rash broke out instantly. I immediately threw the box onto the floor.

Wyatt put on a hurt expression and said, "Even if you don't like it, you don't have to throw it away."

Hannah stared at me, barely holding back her anger. "Nathan! What gives you the right to throw Wyatt's gift away?! Apologize to him right now!"

But by then, I could not speak anymore. My throat had swollen to the point of being blocked as my vision began to blur. I staggered toward the living room, where I kept my allergy medicine. But after only two steps, Hannah grabbed my arm. "You're not walking away from this. Apologize to Wyatt."

"Medicine. Get my medicine..." I pointed at the drawer as it grew harder to breathe, and my chest was so tight it felt ready to collapse.

Hannah slapped my hand away. "Stop the act! I let it go last time when you faked being sick to lie to me, and now you're doing it again? I'm telling you, this trick won't work. Apologize to Wyatt right now!"

My vision had already started going black, and Hannah's scolding grew farther away.

Before I hit the floor, I saw Hannah rush toward me in a panic…

-

When I finally regained consciousness, Hannah was lying beside my bed, shadows under her eyes.

When she heard me move, she took my hand and said in a guilty tone, "I'm sorry, Nathan. I forgot you were allergic to the material that was used to make that fabric. I thought you were pretending to be sick again."

I found it so laughable.

During all our years of marriage, Hannah had always chosen my clothes carefully, worried she might accidentally buy something made from that material and trigger my allergy. But after Wyatt had lived in our home for only half a year, she was now telling me she had forgotten.

I sneered and pulled my hand back.

Hannah froze, then quickly frowned. "Do you have to act like this? Wyatt didn't do it on purpose. He never went to school. How was he supposed to know anything about allergies? How about this? To keep Wyatt from hurting you in the future, why don't you send him to school using that money? How does that sound?"

For a second, I wondered if I had heard her wrong. Wyatt had sent me into an allergic shock, yet I was supposed to pay for his tuition?

I refused without even thinking. "No. I need that paycheck to buy my cemetery plot."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Nathan, are you really going to curse yourself like that just so Wyatt can't use the money? He's still so young... What's wrong with letting him learn something? Can't you have a little compassion?"

Compassion again.

Because of her compassion, I had less than two more weeks left to live.

I sneered as I said, "That's right. I have no compassion."

When Hannah saw that I would not give in, she stormed out and slammed the door. I then heard her say to Wyatt in the living room, "Wyatt, don't worry. I'll find a way to send you to school."

I did not care. After I recovered from the allergy, I immediately returned to my original schedule and went to work during the day while washing dishes at the restaurant at night.

To spite me, Hannah cooked all kinds of good food for Wyatt every day. The smell drifted out of the kitchen, making me realize how empty my stomach was.

Wyatt would always sit across from me with his plate, eating smugly as he said, "Nathan, you should have some too. Hannah said these ribs were expensive. She bought them with your paycheck."

I shoved the plain dinner rolls into my mouth and ignored him, but I had a bad feeling about all of this.

Three days before payday, I went to finance and asked, "Martha, can you please change the account for my direct deposit? Don't put this month's paycheck in the old account."

I used to think a husband and wife shared everything, so both the apartment and car were in Hannah's name. Meanwhile, my paychecks had always gone into her account.

It was not until I could not afford my own surgery while I was in the hospital that I realized if I had no money of my own, I could not even afford to die.

Martha typed on her computer a few times. When she looked up, her expression was awkward. "Well, didn't your wife come in last week and get an advance on your paycheck? Why are you asking for it again?"

"What?!" I shot to my feet, my voice tight. "When did she come in?"

"The day you took leave for your allergy. She said you were in the hospital and needed money urgently. She was crying pretty hard, and she had a copy of your ID, so I processed it for her."

I almost froze as I gripped the table to keep myself from falling.

She had taken my paycheck in advance?

That was the money I needed for my cemetery plot!

I staggered out of the company. When I found Hannah, she was just going to buy a gold watch with Wyatt.

I rushed over, my voice trembling with rage. "Hannah! Where's my paycheck?"

She started. When she saw it was me, the smile vanished from her face and was replaced by a self-righteous look. "I spent it on Wyatt's tutoring class. You have no idea how expensive tutoring is these days."

"That money was for my cemetery plot!" I grabbed her arm, my fingers trembling. "Give it back to me!"

She shook me off, anger rising in her eyes, too. "Nathan, what is wrong with you? Why do you keep talking about cemetery plots every day? Are you that eager to die? I'm telling you right now that Wyatt's education is what actually matters!

"That being said, what perfect timing. I'm worried people will look down on Wyatt when he starts school, so I want to buy him a gold watch. We're short on money now, so give me your wedding ring. I'll pawn it for cash first, then get it back for you once I have the money."

As she spoke, she grabbed my hand.

Then, she froze when she saw my bare ring finger. "Nathan, where is your wedding ring?"