My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal.

After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was.

By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature.

The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion.

And I loved it.

I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain.

Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes.

[This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?]

[She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.]

[Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.]

I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table.

Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock.

A chill ran through me.

I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest.

"No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch.

"And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"

"Dad, do you have a fever?"

My daughter, Elyse Day, reached out her chubby little hand, trying to touch my forehead.

I grabbed her hand, and something in my chest twisted painfully.

A year ago, her hands had still been soft and plump. Now there were faint calluses on her palms. You didn’t get hands like that without living carefully, counting every dollar, just like her mom.

I’d failed them.

I used to look down on the two of them for being cheap. Even buying an ice cream meant comparing prices at three different stores before committing.

Now I understood. Alisha West, my wife, had been preparing for the family’s collapse all along.

"Kiddo, I’m not sick." I rubbed my temples. "I just… finally figured things out."

At that, Alisha and Elyse exchanged a glance, then quietly went back to flattening cardboard boxes.

The comments drifted across my vision again.

[Oh? The spendthrift Kayden Day’s changing his ways? Yeah right. He’s definitely faking it to trick her into buying him something even more expensive]

[Exactly. People like him don’t change. A spoiled rich boy has no idea what real hardship looks like.]

[Alisha’s got it rough. Right before bankruptcy, and she’s still being drained dry by this man.]

That was bullshit.

Yeah, I used to spend money like it meant nothing, but I wasn’t heartless.

If Alisha had been carrying this family on her back, then I could damn well eat scraps right alongside her.

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Lying on the oversized king bed, my thoughts were a mess.

Alisha slept beside me, her breathing steady. However, even in her sleep, her brow was tightly furrowed, like she was still worrying about West Star Holdings’s debts.

More comments floated past.

[She definitely didn’t eat enough tonight. Those two pieces of pulled pork all went into his stomach.]

[The creditors’ meeting is tomorrow. No way she’s sleeping well.]

That was not fair.

I’d picked those pieces for her on purpose. She was the one who said she didn’t like meat and pushed them back onto my plate.

So… she just didn’t want to eat it.

I turned toward her and, in the pale moonlight, gently smoothed the crease between her brows.

"Alisha, I’m sorry," I murmured, my chest tight. "I won’t buy watches anymore. I won’t indulge in meat either. We’ll get through this together. Pay off the debt, one step at a time. Just… don’t leave me. And don’t go looking for that guy—what was his name…"

Alisha shifted in her sleep, her arm instinctively draping over my waist.

"Mm… stop it…" she mumbled drowsily. "There’s enough money… I’ll buy it for you…"

My hands clenched into fists.

Even now, she was still thinking about buying things for me in her dreams.

I was going to save this woman.

I woke up early the next morning.

Standing in the walk-in closet, staring at rows of custom suits and limited-edition watches, my chest tightened like it was being carved open.

Every single one of these had been a gift from Alisha.

Holidays, anniversaries, whether real or made-up, it didn’t matter. Even some random date I casually threw out, she’d remember and celebrate it for me.

People said she was stingy, but the truth was, she was only harsh on herself. When it came to Elyse and me, she never held back.

And now… these gifts were our only shot at turning things around.

I had to sell them. I had to get rid of everything.

I spent the entire day listing them on resale platforms. I priced them low—way lower than they were worth—because I needed cash, fast.

The same limited-edition pieces that once sat untouchable at the top of the market were now getting snapped up like discount produce at a street stall.

As I watched the balance in my account climb, I finally felt a flicker of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough to cover the massive debt the Live Comment Feed kept talking about.

At least, maybe it meant Alisha could skip a few instant noodle meals. Maybe she could even add something extra, like a proper side dish.

By the time I was done packing boxes, my back was aching.

That was when Elyse came home from school. The moment she stepped inside, she tripped over the pile of packages scattered across the floor.

When she saw me stuffing my prized watches—the ones I used to treasure like my life—into cardboard boxes, she hurried over.

"Dad, don’t you want them anymore?" Her lips trembled, her big eyes filled with concern. "They’re still so new. Are you throwing them out to buy newer ones again?"

As she spoke, she gently ran her fingers over one of my watches.

That careful, almost pained expression… It was exactly the same look she had when I used to toss out her mom’s worn-out shirts without a second thought.

The irony made my chest tighten. I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel ashamed.

The comments flooded in again.

[Why’s this spendthrift suddenly doing a clearance sale?]

[What else? He probably knows her cash flow’s broken and is planning to run with the money.]

[Elyse was born into wealth, and now this idiot’s raised her to be this narrow-minded?]

[Don’t worry, once the real male lead shows up, their good days are coming.]

Damn these comments. Nothing but garbage.

I crouched down, meeting Elyse’s clear, worried gaze, and gently ruffled her hair. "I'm not throwing them away. And I’m not buying new ones either.

"I’m selling them for money… so we can save it. Put it in our little piggy bank. Mom’s been working really hard lately. I want to save up so we can buy good food for you and Mom, okay?"

The moment she heard it was for her mom, Elyse’s eyes lit up.

Just then, the landline rang.

I glanced over. Two words flashed across the screen: Xavier Shaw.

The Live Comment Feed exploded, flooding my entire vision.

[He’s here! The male lead is finally here!]

[Xavier Shaw, Alisha West’s college classmate. Sharp, capable, and great with money.]

[He’s definitely calling to help restructure her assets. She’s about to dump the useless Kayden.]

[The side character’s about to get what’s coming. This is satisfying to watch.]

My head buzzed like I’d been hit with something heavy.

Xavier Shaw?

The man who would help Alisha rise again… the one who knew how to live frugally and manage money?

I took a deep breath and pressed accept.

"Hello, Ms. West." A steady, professional male voice came through the line. "I've completed the asset restructuring plan you mentioned."

Asset restructuring?

Wasn’t that just a polite way of saying bankruptcy liquidation?

The veins in my forehead throbbed as panic surged through me. My voice cracked mid-sentence.

"Don’t restructure it! Please don’t do it!" I shouted into the phone. "I have money! I sold my watches and my sports car. I still have shares! Don’t let Alisha go bankrupt! Don’t let them take her to jail!"

There was silence on the other end for a full ten seconds.

It was so quiet that all I could hear was my own ragged breathing.

"Mr. Day?" Xavier finally said, hesitantly. "Are you… alright?"

I was frantic, pacing like a man on the edge, nothing like the composed, entitled version of myself I used to be.

"Mr. Shaw, I know you’re a good man. Please help Alisha. As long as you can protect her… I-I’ll step aside! I’ll let her go to you!"

As long as she’d be okay, I didn’t care about being her husband anymore because right now, all I did was spend money. I was useless.

Xavier sounded capable, like someone who could earn and save money and take care of her.

The line went completely silent.

After a long pause, he finally spoke again, cautiously, "Mr. Day, I think you might have misunderstood something. Ms. West, she—"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The call cut off.

I stood there, frozen like a statue.

It wasn’t until Elyse tugged on my sleeve that I snapped back to reality.

That afternoon, the delivery guys came and went like movers, hauling away all my prized possessions one trip at a time.

The walk-in closet and display cabinets were left completely empty, as if the place had been looted.

Ever since that call, I’d been trapped in a constant state of dread.

When Alisha came home, I was sitting on the couch, staring into space, pale and tense. She frowned when she saw the piles of boxes and the empty displays.

"What happened? Did we get robbed?"

I pulled her into my arms, my voice rough. "Alisha, you’ve been through so much."

"What’s with you?" she laughed lightly. "What did you watch this time, some tearjerker video?"

Even after that call reached the house, she was still joking like nothing was wrong. God, it hurt to see her like this.

The comments flooded in again.

[Classic emotional manipulation. He’s trying to lower her guard before making a bigger grab.]

[Living off someone takes skill, too. Honestly, I couldn’t pull off that fake sincerity even if I tried.]

[What’s there to admire? A kept man like him? Xavier? Now that’s the kind of man worth loving.]

[What kind of mindset is that? Measuring someone’s worth by whether they’re loved?]

[Exactly. Why does everything have to revolve around being loved?]

[It’s a romance story. What else are people supposed to care about?]

Huh.

Guess not all the comments were brain-dead after all.

"Hey, what are you staring at?" Alisha asked, noticing my gaze fixed on empty air.

"Oh? Nothing, nothing." I forced an awkward laugh.

Then I remembered.

I pulled out a bank card from my pocket. "Alisha, I sold all my watches today. Between that and my savings over the years, everything’s in here. Take it."

Before she could react, I pressed the card into her hand, my expression firm. "I can’t help much with West Star Holdings… but whatever happens, I’ll face it with you."

I held her gaze, steady and intense. With how reasonable and devoted I sounded, she had to be moved.

Instead, her expression froze. Then she looked at me in disbelief. "You… you know?"

I nodded hard. "Yeah. I know everything. Xavier told me. It’s okay. Worst case, we start over. I won’t buy watches anymore. I’ll get a job. I’ll do manual labor if I have to. I’ll support you."

She lowered her head, looking a little defeated, her voice quiet. "I hid it for so long… How did he tell you? And the results still weren’t good…"

I didn’t catch the rest, but seeing how upset she looked made my chest tighten again. I was just about to comfort her when she suddenly looked up and sighed helplessly.

"Fine. I guess this just counts as giving you a heads-up. Better than you getting too excited later and passing out from it."

Excited?

Was she serious?

"But you’re being way too dramatic," she added. "Yeah, things are a little tight right now, but it’s not so bad that you need to sell your watches."

She pushed the card back into my hand. "Keep it. The black card I gave you has no limit. Use that instead."

She was still pretending everything was fine.

Fine. For the next few days, I’d just go along with her, as long as she didn’t do anything reckless.