My Husband Wants Me To Hand Over My Salary

I did not have dinner that night.

He came over to lecture me again.

He let on the same drivel about saving money while young. He said I should spend within our means at the supermarket and not splurge.

I got tired of listening to him. I closed my eyes, covered my ears, and ran into the bathroom.

My salary arrived at that moment.

This time, I did not hand it over to him. Instead, I stared at the numbers.

This money was enough for nice clothes, a nice purse, or even good-quality makeup.

I gave him everything every month. I wore old clothes from my school days. Even my bag was an old, tattered tote bag that had cost me $10.

I used the cheapest lotion for my skin.

I felt lost. What was the point of working so hard to earn money year after year?

Trevor suddenly pushed the bathroom door open. He leaned against the doorway and asked, “You always get paid around this time every month. Why haven’t you transferred the money to me today?”

“What if I don’t give it to you? What are you going to do about it?”

When I met his calculating gaze, I felt physically nauseous.

“What am I going to do? When you transfer the money to me, I budget it all out. It’s not like I’m spending it on myself. Why won’t you give it to me?”

This was what happened when someone got comfortable receiving from someone else all the time. It was taken for granted.

“New Year’s coming. I need to buy myself new clothes.”

“Do the clothes you buy cost over $10,000? Do you even deserve clothes that expensive? Transfer the money first. When you actually need to buy the clothes, I’ll transfer the money to you.”

I walked out of the bathroom. He followed behind me and nagged nonstop.

It was as if he was trying to annoy me to death until I gave him the money.

I stopped in my tracks and said firmly, “I want to keep my salary to myself.”

Trevor became anxious.

He stepped in front of me and said, “You’re too careless with money. You can’t save anything! It’s better with me keeping it under control. If I leave you in control of finances, we’ll end up broke.”

I laughed in exasperation.

“I get $150 a month, and yet you call me careless with money.”

Perhaps because of guilt, Trevor froze for a moment.

An urgent phone call broke the tense atmosphere.

It was Trevor’s younger brother, Bryan Guthrie. He needed $100,000 for a down payment on a house.

It sounded urgent.

The money had to be transferred immediately.

I watched Trevor take out his phone. The moment his finger touched the screen, I raised my hand and knocked his phone to the floor.

“Have I said okay to lending him the money?”

Trevor sneered and said, “That’s the money I saved for myself. I’m not touching your money! Besides, I already lent your share to Bella.”

That was ridiculous!

He was ready to transfer the money immediately, without consulting me, when it came to Bryan.

But when Bella needed to borrow money, she had to beg Trevor for it. Why was that?

“Tell Bryan to call me if he wants to borrow money. You can only lend it to him if I say yes.”

Trevor was visibly angry. “What’s your problem? Is this really necessary? Don’t push your luck!”

With that, he leaned down to pick up the phone from the floor.

I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a kitchen knife, and rushed in front of him. I yelled, “I told you that you can only lend him the money if I agree to it!”

Trevor slapped me and snatched the knife from my hand.

He said viciously, “I’m giving Bryan the money! You don’t have the right to stop me!”

I numbly touched my cheek. At that moment, I felt the urge to run away.

I grabbed my phone and rushed out the front door.

Behind me, Trevor shouted, “I’ll give you one minute to transfer your paycheck to me!”

I glanced at Trevor, who was looking down at his phone to make a transfer.

Rage washed over me.

He would never take another cent of my money again!