Divorced Her After Depositing My Salary in Her Card for 5 Years

My mother showed up at my doorstep, her face etched with worry, telling me my uncle had fallen and needed thirty thousand for surgery.

I hurried her to the ATM, my mind racing with a hundred thoughts.

But when we stood before the machine, I froze, utterly dumbfounded.

Insufficient Funds, the screen blinked back mockingly.

This card belonged to Lillian Vance. Wed agreed when we married that it would be our joint savings, a deposit only account. Every payday, without fail, Id deposit eighty thousand into it. This had been going on for five full years.

Thirty thousand? We should have had millions. More than enough.

Yet, there it was: a pathetic 1.03 dollars.

I dialed Lillians number a dozen times, but she didnt answer. Eventually, her phone went straight to voicemail. I had no choice but to call a friend and borrow the money.

An hour later, she finally sent a message.

Dean, I was with Brandon Miller looking at houses. It was so loud, I couldnt hear my phone.

Whats up?

I swallowed hard, forcing down the surge of anger. I quickly concocted an excuse, then asked her where they were looking.

She replied with Riverside Manor.

It was an upscale community, with prices upwards of thirty thousand per square foot. Wed looked at it last year when it first opened. Id even considered buying a unit, but shed dismissed the idea outright.

I didnt press further, just hung up.

Lillian finally returned home at seven that evening.

A faint scent of mens cologne drifted from her, the familiar woody notes of the fragrance her childhood friend, Brandon Miller, always wore. Our one-year-old son, Arthur, sat in his highchair, babbling and playing with a spoon. I spooned some steamed egg into his mouth, then looked up at my wife, who was shedding her coat.

How was the house hunting with Brandon today? I asked, my voice flat.

Her movements faltered for a fraction of a second. Then, her usual gentle smile appeared. It was alright. Brandon thought the layout at Riverside Manor was good, the view was nice, and the price was fair.

You didnt say that when we looked at it, I murmured, stirring the soup in my bowl. You said it was too out of the way, that the amenities werent developed yet, and it wasnt worth the price.

Oh, well, that was then, this is now, she replied smoothly. Its developed so much since. I hear the subway will be ready next year.

She sat down, picked up a piece of greens with her chopsticks, and deftly changed the subject.

By the way, what was so urgent this afternoon? I couldnt quite catch it on the phone.

Nothing. Just a small matter with my mother. Its been sorted.

She simply said, Oh, and didnt probe further.

Arthur patted the table with his little hand, wanting water. Lillian got up to fetch his cup, cooing softly to him.

I watched her retreating back. Her long hair was loosely pinned up, and the creamy white loungewear made her silhouette look gentle and soft.

Three years of dating, five years of marriage.

Eight years. I thought I knew this woman who slept beside me every night.

Until this afternoon, when the glaring balance on the ATM screen slapped me hard across the face.

Oh, right, I said, putting down my chopsticks, as if it were an afterthought. Im thinking of replacing the old car. I saw the new BMW model, about thirty thousand. What do you think?

Lillians hand, which was giving Arthur water, paused.

She turned, a slight frown creasing her brow. Why the sudden urge to change cars? The one we have is only eight years old, isnt it?

Its a bit old, and the space is too small. We cant fit everything when we go camping with Arthur.

But thirty thousand is too expensive

She put down the water cup and sat back in her chair. Wont it put too much pressure on the family if you buy a new car?

Our monthly living expenses are already quite high.

A car is a depreciating asset. It loses value the moment it leaves the lot.

Besides, your current car is well-maintained. Its perfectly fine for a few more years. Theres no need to buy a new one just for appearances

She listed off her points, one by one, with clear logic and apparent sincerity.

She sounded like a frugal wife, always thinking of her familys best interests.

In the past few years, Id heard these words countless times, feeling satisfied, even guilty, about her practicality and devotion to our home.

Now, hearing them felt like a thousand tiny needles, pricking my heart.

I stayed silent, offering no rebuttal, just focused on eating my rice.

After I finished the dishes, Arthur was already drowsy, rubbing his eyes in Lillians arms.

Ill take him to bath and bed.

She picked up Arthur and headed towards the bathroom.

On the coffee table, her phone screen was still lit.

I walked over, picked it up, and quickly opened the banking app, loading the transaction history.

Densely packed, full of transfers.

The recipients name was partially obscured, but the last few digits of the account number were clearly visible, and they were all the same.

The transfer frequency was astonishingly high C several transactions every month.

The amounts varied, some were three to five thousand, others tens of thousands.

The largest single transfer? A staggering fifty thousand.

It had happened today.

I held my breath, scrolling back to the earliest record.

March 15th this year: a transfer of five thousand.

Brandon Millers social media post about returning to the country, with a picture at the airport, was dated March 14th.

Deep into the night, I lay awake, unable to sleep.

Beside me, Lillians breathing was steady; she was fast asleep.

I watched her quietly, feeling a chilling unfamiliarity emanate from her face.

Five years ago, on a night much like this, we had just gotten our marriage license. She had brought up the idea of our savings with a serious tone.

Dean, we need to plan for our future.

Well want to have children eventually, and our parents will get older.

This money will be deposit-only, our safety net and security.

I was deeply moved then, believing I had found a virtuous wife.

For the next five years, every payday, the first thing I did was transfer eighty thousand into that account, leaving myself only the bare minimum for living expenses.

To save money, I quit smoking after ten years, declined all social gatherings that cost money, and wore my clothes and shoes until they were worn out, unwilling to replace them.

Whenever colleagues upgraded their cars or watches, Id just smile.

In my heart, I pictured the steadily growing number on that card and felt it was all worth it.

It was my investment in the future, my commitment to our family.

But I never imagined it would end like this.

Five years, sixty months, four hundred eighty thousand.

Reduced to 1.03 dollars.

Suddenly, many small details from these years flashed through my mind.

Lillian always strongly supported my frugality.

When I wanted to take her out for a nice meal, shed say cooking at home was healthier.

When I wanted to buy her a down jacket, shed call it a waste.

I used to think she was sensible and good at managing money.

Now I understood. It was merely a way to make me more willing to keep funneling money into that card.

And what about her?

Her skincare products were always high-end brands. Her clothes, though seemingly simple, were made of expensive fabrics and tailored impeccably.

I used to assume it was occasional support from her family, or her own salary.

Now, I suspected my four hundred eighty thousand had largely subsidized her refined lifestyle.

The most laughable part was that I had even felt guilty about it.

Believing she hadnt lived a very luxurious life with me, that I had somehow wronged her.

I walked out to the balcony, leaned against the railing, and lit a cigarette.

My first cigarette in five years.

The next day was Saturday. When Lillian woke up, I had already made breakfast.

Why are you up so early today?

She seemed surprised, rubbing her eyes.

Couldnt sleep. I placed the fried egg and milk on the table. Arthurs still asleep. Let him rest a bit longer.

She sat down, took a bite of toast, and, as usual, scrolled through the news on her phone.

Her demeanor was natural, betraying nothing.

I watched her quietly, then spoke. Did Brandon manage to scrape together enough money for the house?

Why the sudden question?

She smiled, put down her phone, and took a sip of milk as if nothing was amiss.

Just curious. Riverside Manor isnt cheap, and he just returned to the country this year. Where would he get that much money?

His family supported him, and he also has some savings of his own.

Her answer was quick, clearly a prepared response.

Is that so? I lowered my head, cutting my fried egg. I heard the down payment for the smallest unit there is over a million. Can his family really afford that kind of support?

Lillian was silent for a few seconds.

Brandon studied abroad. With his capabilities, buying a house shouldnt be a problem.

You eat first. Ill go check if Arthurs awake.

I watched her somewhat guilty back, my heart sinking little by little.

I picked up my phone and sent a message to a friend:

Are you there? I need a favor.

Five days later was my father-in-laws birthday, and the Vance family courtyard was packed with cars.

Carrying my modest gifts of tea and health supplements, I felt somewhat out of place amidst the bustling crowd.

Every member of the Vance family looked at me with a subtle, yet unmistakable, hint of disdain.

I was from a rural background, got into university, and stayed in the city for work. Through sheer hard work, Id climbed the ranks to project manager at my current company.

But in this family, they only saw my origins.

When I first married Lillian, the Vance family had fiercely opposed it.

Her mother, Mrs. Vance, had called me a country bumpkin, unworthy of her daughter.

Mr. Vance, though silent, had been equally cold in his demeanor.

In the end, it was Lillians persistence, coupled with my genuinely good income, that finally swayed them to reluctantly agree.

Five years later, the situation hadnt improved.

From the kitchen, Mrs. Vances voice drifted out. Lillian, when is Brandon arriving? I specifically called and told him he absolutely had to come today.

Dont worry, Mom, he said hed be here, Lillian replied.

I walked out to the courtyard and lit a cigarette.

The pack Id bought yesterday was already half empty.

Brother-in-law, why are you out here alone?

Lillians younger brother, Scott, walked over, his tone light and somewhat flippant.

I told him I needed some fresh air.

He chuckled, patting my shoulder. Brother-in-law, dont take it to heart. Our family is just like this. Honestly, I think youve done really well.

His words sounded like comfort, but the perfunctory look in his eyes was unmistakable.

By half past eleven, all the guests had arrived.

Two large round tables were set in the living room, with Mr. Vance seated at the head.

I was placed at the secondary table, alongside a few distant relatives of the Vance family.

Just as we were about to begin the meal, the sound of a car engine echoed from outside the gate.

Everyone looked up. A brand-new black Mercedes pulled into the driveway.

Brandon Miller emerged from the drivers seat, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, carrying several exquisite gift boxes.

Mrs. Vances eyes lit up. She immediately rushed to greet him. Brandon, darling, youre here! Come in, come in!

Lillian also stood up, an unconscious smile playing on her lips.

I saw it clearly: a sparkle in her eyes.

Brandon greeted everyone politely, distributing numerous gifts: fine wine for Mr. Vance, an imported silk scarf for Mrs. Vance, and the latest model phone for Scott.

Even for my son, Arthur, he had prepared an expensive Lego set.

Brandon, youre too kind!

Everyone laughed, thrilled as they accepted their gifts.

In stark contrast, my tea and health supplements, placed in a corner, looked pathetically meager.

Brandon was seated at the main table, right next to Mr. Vance.

From my seat at the secondary table, a few chairs away, I watched them converse and laugh.

Lillian sat diagonally opposite Brandon. Their eyes would occasionally meet, then quickly dart away.

Just like every other gathering in the past, maintaining a perfectly appropriate distance.

Thats why Id been kept in the dark until today.

The meal began.

Dishes were served one after another, and the tables grew lively.

I ate quietly, listening to their chatter.

Brandon, nice car. New buy?

Lillians cousin suddenly asked.

Brandon smiled modestly. Just picked it up. Only fifty thousand, not really a great car.

Fifty thousand isnt great? Mrs. Vances voice rose a few pitches. Someones thirteen-thousand-dollar old car has been driven for eight or nine years, hasnt it?

And still no money to replace it, sigh.

The table fell silent for a moment.

Mr. Vance cleared his throat. Eat, everyone, eat.

But Mrs. Vance clearly wasnt done. I always say, a man needs to be capable.

Look at Brandon. Hes only been back in the country for a short while, and hes already bought a car and looked at houses.

But some people, well, they just have no ambition.

Probably destined to stay the same forever.

Lillian tried to intervene softly. Mom, please stop.

Am I wrong? Mrs. Vance glanced at me. I never approved of him from the start. A country boy, how high could his ambitions be? If you hadnt been so stubborn about marrying him, I never would have agreed!

Brandon tried to smooth things over with a laugh. Auntie, actually, Dean works very hard.

What good is hard work? Mrs. Vance shook her head. Look at the gifts he brought. So cheap.

Other relatives at the table chimed in, their eyes full of scorn.

I said nothing, continuing to eat.

Brandon, perhaps buoyed by the flattery, continued discussing his house purchase. Auntie, Ive actually already paid the deposit for Riverside Manor. The down payment was transferred yesterday. Now Im just waiting to sign the contract.

Someone asked about the down payment.

One hundred eighty thousand, Brandon replied proudly. My family helped with some, and I saved up a bit myself.

Mrs. Vances eyes gleamed again. See? Now thats what I call successful!

Unlike some people, living in a run-down place, driving a cheap car, and still thinking theyre pretty good.

She glared at me. If I had known this, I never would have let Lillian marry you.

A bumpkin is a bumpkin. You cant make a silk purse out of a sows ear!

Everyone looked at me.

Lillians face was pale. She said in a low voice, Mom, enough.

Mr. Vance also spoke, his voice firm.

Alright, its my birthday today. Lets keep the peace.

I put down my chopsticks.

Wiped my mouth, and stood up.

Mrs. Vance sneered. What, cant take a little criticism?

Are you angry?

I looked at her, then at Lillian.

She avoided my gaze, fiddling with her napkin.

Brandon stood up. Dean, Auntie is just outspoken. Dont take it to heart.

Im not taking it to heart. I looked at my father-in-law. Dad, happy birthday.

Mr. Vance nodded, his expression complex.

I took a deep breath, my voice not loud, but clear enough for everyone to hear:

Also, Id like to take this opportunity today to announce something.

Ive decided. Im divorcing Lillian Vance.

My words stunned everyone.

After the initial shock, Lillian jumped to her feet. Dean, what kind of nonsense are you talking?

Im not talking nonsense. I looked at her calmly. Im genuinely divorcing you.

A reason? Just because my mother said a few things to you? she demanded.

A reason?

I took an envelope from my jackets inner pocket, pulled out a stack of printed papers, and tossed them onto the lazy Susan.

First, you answer me. For the past five years, the eighty thousand dollars I religiously deposited into that couples reserve fund card every month, totaling four hundred eighty thousand dollars, where has it gone?

The papers slowly rotated with the lazy Susan, laying themselves bare before the Vance family.

A dense list of transfer records: dates, amounts, and the last few digits of the recipients account number.

Lillian froze, staring at the stack of papers, her lips pressed into a thin line.

The Vance family was utterly silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

You dont want to say? Then I will.

I glanced at Brandon, who was equally stiff, then pulled out my phone, displaying the investigation results my friend had sent me.

Starting this March, in less than eight months

Funds transferred from this card to account ending in 8347, registered to Brandon Miller.

A total of forty-seven transactions, amounting to four hundred sixty-eight thousand seven hundred thirty dollars.

March twentieth: five thousand dollars, for Mr. Millers new wardrobe after returning to the country.

May seventh: twelve thousand dollars, for Mr. Millers annual membership fee at a high-end club.

From July to now, two fixed transfers totaling thirty thousand dollars each month, all used to repay a car loan.

Oh, right. Thats the new Mercedes parked outside.

Last Friday: a fifty-thousand-dollar transfer to the specified account of the Riverside Manor developer, with the memo deposit.

And these here, I tapped the screen, correspond to consumption records at several high-end hotels in the city.

Do I need to state the hotel names and your check-in times?

With each transaction I revealed, Lillians face drained of more color.

Brandon, meanwhile, tried to avoid everyones gaze, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The Vance familys expressions shifted from shock and confusion to disbelief and shame.

Mrs. Vance opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to interrupt me, but no sound came out.

Oh, and one more thing, I said, putting away my phone and looking at Lillian. This new jacket youre wearing, bought last month, twenty-eight hundred dollars.

That limited edition skincare set on your vanity, twelve hundred dollars.

All paid for with the secondary card from that account. Ive checked the transaction history.

Lillians body trembled slightly. She finally spoke, her voice dry. You hired someone to investigate me?

If I hadnt investigated, how would I have known that the savings I painstakingly built over five years had long become capital for someone else to squander, conveniently funding my wifes refined lifestyle and I paused, my gaze sweeping over Brandon, her affair.

Enough!

Lillian shrieked, cutting me off, her chest heaving, her face a mix of red and white.

Dean, arent you saying all this just to get a divorce?

Fine, I agree! Lets get divorced!

Well split the assets evenly, but Arthurs custody must go to me!

I, who had always been so compliant, laughed.

Split evenly? Dont dream about it.

My demand is that you leave with nothing.

And that four hundred eighty thousand dollars, you must return every penny.

Youre the one dreaming! Scott finally couldnt hold back. He slammed his hand on the table, pointing at my nose and cursing, Dean! Who do you think you are? What makes you think my sister should leave with nothing?

Even if she cheated, that money is still marital property!

I pulled out the last paper from the envelope and gently placed it on the table.

It was the conclusion page of a paternity test report.

I spoke each word clearly, my voice cold.

Because of this.

Not only did Lillian Vance have an affair during our marriage, she also had a child with someone else.

Arthurs biological father is not me!