Chapter 7 Am I a Freeloader to You

I was utterly stunned, unable to believe what I heard. "Yvette, do you still think I'm joking? I've told you again and again that we should get divorced. I've even signed the divorce papers, yet you still think I'm kidding?" Yvette stood tall, her elegant figure leaning closer to me. "Owen, playing hard to get might be intriguing the first time, but it becomes tiresome after two or three times. Enough with the theatrics. Go home. You know I'm not a patient woman." I looked at her inscrutable expression and couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. "Yvette, can you stop thinking so highly of yourself? What? Am I supposed to wither and die without you in my life? I'll say this one last time. I want a divorce, and I'm not joking. I'm dead serious." She crossed her arms, a condescending smirk on her face. "Isn't this all about money? Just name your price. I don't have time to waste on this nonsense. And don't even think about embarrassing me in front of others." Her words hit me like a slap. My face turned pale, and an old, familiar feeling of humiliation welled up inside me. I had felt this way before—she had always looked down on me, crushing my self-esteem without a second thought. For reasons I couldn't explain, anger surged through me. I shoved her, not forcefully, but enough to send her back a couple of steps. "I told you, I don't want your money!" I spat. "Stop assuming that everyone sees the world the way you do. Have you even read the divorce agreement? There's nothing in it about splitting your money!" Caught off guard and unsteady in her high heels, Yvette stumbled back a few steps. Standing nearby, Nancy burst out laughing. "Wow, Yvette! I never thought I'd see the day. Someone's fed up with you! And you're even arguing with a man. This is a first. Impressive!" Yvette's expression darkened instantly as she shot Nancy a withering glare. Nancy, now quieter but still amused, gave me a thumbs-up. "Owen, you're doing great. You've been too indulgent with Yvette, always catering to her every whim. See? Now that you're finally standing up for yourself, she's finally behaving." "Shut up!" Yvette and I shouted at the same time. Nancy pouted slightly. "Fine. I'll shut up. But just one last thing, Owen. Yvette has been pampered her whole life. She gets everything she wants, and there's always a crowd of men chasing after her. She's never had to take the initiative, so don't be mad at her. "Plus, her stomach was acting up again this morning. When I checked on her, she was almost fainting from the pain. She won't even eat anything. She's probably still in pain now. And she only likes the food you cook—" Before she could finish, Yvette's glare silenced her. "Nancy, I dare you to say one more word." This time, Nancy stopped talking. She even pulled her secretary back a few steps for good measure. I hadn't expected Yvette not to run straight to her prince charming. How could she not seize such a perfect opportunity? Before I could dwell on it, Yvette's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Owen, in the year we've been married, tell me how many of your clothes, accessories, and other things I have bought for you? "Without a woman to depend on, can a useless freeloader like you survive? I've said it already—if you want money, just say so. Stop using divorce as an excuse. "Move back in today and return everything you took. Every single thing must be back in its place. Otherwise, you'll never set foot in that home again." Her sharp, dark eyes bore into me as if she were utterly convinced that I was just playing hard to get and would inevitably crawl back for her money. I was so furious, and my chest heaved with each breath. I couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed bitterly. In our previous lives, she was generous with money before the divorce. Whatever I wanted, she bought it without hesitation. But I never asked for much. I just wanted gifts to mark the special occasions and build memories together. I gave her gifts, too, though she never accepted them. Eventually, I switched to cooking for her—if she gave me something, I would make her a lavish meal in return. I thought it was a sweet, playful tradition between husband and wife. But in her eyes, I was nothing more than a freeloader. She bought me things but did so only to brush me off like she was dealing with a pet, not out of genuine care. Even now, after a second chance at life, the pain of that realization still stung. I gritted my teeth. "Yvette, listen carefully. Your money means nothing to me. If it weren't for marrying you and becoming a househusband, I wouldn't have had to ask you for anything. "Since we're both so fed up with each other, let's cut the nonsense. I've had enough of this humiliating existence. Let's end our marriage and never cross paths again! Even if I were starving to death, I wouldn't take a penny from you!" With every word I spoke, her face darkened even further. "You can take back everything you've bought for me. And the stuff I took—whatever you paid for, I'll return every last bit. "I've really seen it all now. I went out of my way to pack it all up and clear the space for your next lover, but you demand I bring it all back and put it exactly where it was? Unbelievable. I've met stingy people before, but you take the cake. "No wonder you don't deserve any man, Yvette. Marrying you was the worst decision of my life!" I was practically shouting, and I had already decided to take off my clothes and return them as soon as I got home. It was disgusting! Yvette's face twisted in fury, a rare sight of her truly losing her temper. I pressed the elevator button angrily. This time, she didn't try to stop me. She simply turned and walked away. She must have been livid. After all, she had bent over backward for her dream man, and I had hit her where it hurt by pointing out her failure. She couldn't stand it. Behind me, Nancy was laughing, clearly enjoying the drama. "Owen, impressive! I've never seen anyone rile Yvette up like that before. I like it. You're welcome to visit me anytime. And hey, if you get divorced, consider me. I'm beautiful and rich—not any worse than Yvette!" As if! I shot her a cold glare. She and Yvette were two of a kind, both troublemakers. Then, I noticed her secretary whisper something in her ear. She suddenly looked up at me, her expression full of surprise. Great. She must have overheard Yvette calling me a useless freeloader. Now, she must have figured out I came to apply for the lead artist position. What a mess. Of all the places to look for work, I ended up at Yvette's friend's company. And after everything that happened, Nancy must think I was completely insufferable. What a disaster.