Forced to Buy My Wife's First Love a Home

Finally, I took off the mascot head as I watched Marissa walk away.

Marissa, the woman I'd put on a pedestal for three years, suddenly seemed rotten to the core. Like a rotten apple, she was impossible to stomach.

I told the store manager I was done with the job and got the hell out of there with the day's wages.

As I made my way home on my electric scooter, I noticed a food truck selling grilled sausages. The aroma that wafted in the air was enticing, instantly making my mouth water.

Normally, I could never bring myself to spend the money on these snacks unless Marissa had a craving for them. But today, I went on a spree, buying my way down the entire food truck street.

Only then did the resentment within me fade a little.

When I got home, I turned on the air-conditioning and lounged on the couch, eating while scrolling through videos.

By some twist of fate, I came across a livestream from Foursquare Dining and saw Marissa on screen. She was wearing disposable gloves, peeling shrimps and cracking crab shells for Dominic.

She prepared an entire plate of shrimp and crab meat, which she then slid over to Dominic gently with a smile on her face.

Deep down, my envy grew. We'd been married all this time, and we still used serving utensils at home because she found the idea of sharing food and peeling things for one another too disgusting. She had never done anything like that for me.

But she certainly enjoyed being served by me. She loved fish, but she hated dealing with the bones. So, she always coaxed me into deboning them for her whenever we had fish, even though she knew I was allergic.

Every time I deboned fish for her, my hands would end up covered in a rash. Then, she would call me revolting, staying as far away from me as possible. She'd tell me I was sick and warn me not to pass whatever I had to her.

I swiped the live stream away and began watching a food-related video instead. The sausage was delicious indeed, and it was quite blissful to be enjoying a bunch of delicious foods alone.

Just as I was completely relaxed, a notification popped up on my phone, informing me of a hotel room booking. Marissa was used to using my particulars for hotel bookings.

I glanced at the notification casually, noticing that she certainly knew how to enjoy herself. She had booked a presidential suite.

I let out a muted chuckle, then took a screenshot of the notification.

Suddenly, my eyes landed on Marissa's wedding ring, which she had carelessly tossed on the table. It was such a mocking sight.

I swept it right off the table and into the trash can, along with the rest of the trash. Since she couldn't care less about it, it would just be an eyesore to leave it on the table.

At 11:00 pm, Marissa returned home, a smile still lingering on her lips. She turned the lights on and startled when she saw me sitting silently on the couch.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, displeased. "You scared the crap out of me."

She removed her heels and sat on the couch, massaging her feet. Then, she ordered, "Go get me a glass of water. I'm beat."

I smirked. Of course she was tired. She'd spent the whole day with Dominic, then went to a hotel to fool around with him. It was a miracle she still had some energy left at all.

I didn't budge but simply turned to stare at her in silence. Annoyed, she kicked me, her foot landing squarely on the burn on my leg.

A few days ago, I made a dish that didn't quite suit her taste. She'd snapped and dumped the dish on me. The food, piping hot from the stove, landed on my bare skin.

My skin burned and began to blister, even after I ran it under cold water.

After being in a mascot suit for an entire day, my wound had turned into a festering mess. Nevertheless, the physical pain couldn't even compare to the emotional pain I was going through.

After getting kicked by Marissa, the wound had probably split open again.

I furrowed my brow in pain, glaring at her. But to my surprise, she pulled her socks off and hurled them right at my face.

"You've got some nerve glaring at me like that, Ainsley. Do you even want this marriage to work?"

I ignored her words completely, beginning to pull my pants down right before her eyes. She screamed and threw a cushion at me, thinking I was going to force myself on her.

"Can you be any more disgusting, Ainsley?"

I pulled my pants down, revealing the massive wound. As expected, the freshly-healed wound had reopened because of that kick.

"Just take a good look at this, Marissa," I prompted in a miserable yet slightly authoritative voice.

Marissa glanced at it and scoffed. "Do you have to react like this? It has only scarred a little."

She walked to the cabinet barefoot, grabbed a bandage, and threw it at me. "Stop acting pathetic? You haven't even given me this month's salary yet, Ainsley. Do you even want to stay married?"

The rage simmering in me finally erupted. I flashed the hotel room booking notification right in her face, charging at her and grabbing her chin hard.

For some reason, I welled up as I choked out, "Do you even have a heart, Marissa?"

Marissa was taken aback momentarily when she saw the hotel booking notification. But right after that, she smacked my phone aside.

She took a step back, eyeing me with suspicion. "Were you following me, Ainsley? Why are you always so paranoid? Dominic has nowhere to stay. As his friend, what's wrong with me booking a room for him?"

I was done with her. I pulled a stack of receipts from the drawer and slammed them down in front of her. "What are these, then? Marissa, you bought a car and a house for your first love with my money. What exactly am I to you?"

Confident that I'd never actually leave her, Marissa gave a nonchalant shrug. "If you can't take it, let's just get a divorce, then. We can call it quits and move on amicably."