He Chose His First Love, So I Chose His Bank Account

My husband’s first love, Vivian, moved back to town and insisted on treating us to dinner. The meal lasted two hours. They talked for the entire two hours. For half an hour of that, she discussed my outfits, my career, and my income with my husband. "Didn't you used to like the artsy, free-spirited type? You sure changed your taste." Vivian smiled and glanced at me. My husband, Lucas, peeled a shrimp and placed it onto her plate. Then, he chuckled. "Dating and marriage are two completely different things." He turned to look at me. "Right, Chloe?" That was the very first time he had spoken to me throughout the entire dinner. I set down my fork and met his gaze. "Right. Which is why, if I were dating for passion, I wouldn't have picked someone like you either." Lucas froze, his fork hovering in midair. He clearly never expected me to say that. "Marrying you was just practical. It had nothing to do with deep love." I looked right into his eyes. Lucas’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His face shifted from pale to bright red. Vivian was the first to let out an awkward laugh. "Well, look at that. Marriage is all about practical terms, of course. I get it." She took a sip of her wine, her eyes gliding over my face. I ignored her completely, turning directly to Lucas. "Are you full? If you're done, let's go." He looked at Vivian, then back at me. "Chloe, what are you trying to pull?" "Exactly what it sounded like." I picked up my purse. Vivian stood up. "Are you jealous?" She tilted her head. "If you mind, I won't see Lucas anymore. After all, you two are married. I totally understand." As she spoke, she reached out and touched my husband’s sleeve. I let out an outright laugh. "I don't mind at all. Please, don't overthink it." "I have plenty of people I could go out with too. If he were strictly disciplined, I'd actually feel guilty seeing others. Wouldn't you agree?" Lucas jumped to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. "Chloe! What kind of nonsense are you talking about?!" "You heard me loud and clear." I slung my purse over my shoulder. The corners of Vivian's mouth twitched downward before she quickly composed herself. "You really misunderstood. Lucas and I are just old friends catching up. Talking with such passive-aggressive hostility will only ruin relationships." "Oh, catching up." I nodded. "Then keep catching up. I'm leaving." Lucas grabbed my wrist tightly. "Sit down. The meal isn't even over. Where do you think you're going?" I glanced down at his hand, then up at his face. "Let go." His grip instinctively loosened, and I pulled my hand free. "It's late, and it's not safe for her to go back alone. I have to drive her home." "Take the subway yourself. Text me when you get home." "Sure, go ahead and drive her." I had already taken out my phone. "Conveniently, I have a friend nearby. He can give me a ride." Lucas's expression darkened. "What friend? In the middle of the night? Guy or girl?" "None of your business." Without looking up, I sent a message to my coworker, Ethan: *Are you nearby? If it's convenient, could you pick me up at the restaurant row on Fifth?* He replied instantly: *Five minutes away.* Lucas took a step forward, trying to peek at my screen. "Chloe, make it clear. Who the hell did you call?" I gave him a calm smile. "If you can drive your first love home, why can't someone give me a ride?" "Aren't you two just old friends catching up? Then meeting up with an old friend of mine is completely normal, right?" Vivian stood nearby, her sweet facade starting to crack. "Lucas, is your wife just acting out to spite me?" "I'm not spiting you." I answered before he could. Lucas looked furious. I put on my coat, walked past the two of them, and headed for the door. "My ride is here. I'm out." Lucas chased after me for two steps. "Chloe! Clear things up before you walk away!" I glanced back over my shoulder. "Clear things up? I've been speaking plain English the whole time. You're just choosing not to understand." Pushing open the heavy glass doors, the cold night air rushed over me, instantly refreshing my senses. A silver-gray sedan pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Ethan’s face. "Chloe, over here." I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. As the car pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Lucas and Vivian standing outside the restaurant through the side mirror. Ethan glanced at me, asking no unnecessary questions. "Thanks for picking me up." "Don't mention it. I was just grabbing a bite around here anyway." The car fell quiet for a moment. I leaned back against the headrest, random thoughts drifting into my mind. Lucas and I met through an introduction. Because our families were pressuring us to settle down, we dated for six months and got married. Married life was peaceful, bordering on mundane. He worked long hours, and I had my own demanding career. I never nagged him about it. Mainly because I wasn't deeply emotionally invested either. I thought this kind of practical marriage could quietly last forever. Until tonight. Until his first love sat across from me, evaluating my clothes, my job, and my paycheck. Until he peeled a shrimp and placed it into her dish. Until he uttered that line: *Dating and marriage are two completely different things.* Leaning my forehead against the cool window, I suddenly found it laughable. First loves? Who didn't have one? The only difference was, I never dug through the trash I threw out.My phone vibrated. It was a text from Lucas: *Did you get home yet?* I didn't reply. Another text popped up: *Who drove you home?* I sent back one word: *A friend.* The screen showed "typing..." for a long while before he finally sent: *We'll talk when I get home.* I locked the screen. When I arrived at our apartment, the living room was dark. I slipped off my shoes, tossed my purse onto the sofa, and went into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. The phone buzzed again. Lucas: *She just moved back. Her place is a mess, and there's a ton of heavy boxes to move. I have to help her sort it out. I'll be home late.* I stared at the text and slowly typed: *Take your time. You don't have to come back at all.* I took a shower, changed into pajamas, and started packing my things out of the master bedroom. Item by item, I moved them into the guest bedroom. The guest bed was smaller, but plenty for one person. I smoothed out the sheets, fluffed the pillow, and cracked the window open to let in some fresh air. Just before midnight, the front door clicked open. Lucas was back. His footsteps paused briefly in the living room. When he saw me making the bed in the guest room, his brows instantly furrowed. "What are you doing?" "Moving my things." I placed the last stack of clothes into the guest closet. "You're back just in time. We need to talk." He walked over and stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room. "Moving what things? Why are you sleeping in here?" I shut the closet door and turned to face him. "Lucas, we aren't right for each other. Let's get a divorce." "Since we're splitting up, sharing a bed is inappropriate." He froze. He stood stunned for several seconds, the blood visibly draining from his face before darkening with anger. "What did you just say?" "I said divorce. I'm pretty sure you heard me." "Over dinner tonight?!" His voice rose sharply. "Chloe, aren't you being ridiculously petty? She just got back in town and bought us a meal to catch up! Is that really worth this?" I leaned against the closet, crossing my arms over my chest. "She evaluated my outfits right in front of me, sneered that I wasn't artsy enough, and said I didn't fit your past tastes. You call that catching up?" "She was just making casual conversation! Why do you have to take everything so personally?" "And what about you?" I held his gaze. "Right in front of your wife, you peeled shrimp for your ex, and said marriage and romance are two different things. Whose face were you trying to slap?" Lucas's face tightened, his lips pressed into a hard line. "I was just stating a fact. Marriage is practical by nature. Did I say anything untrue?" "No, you didn't." I nodded calmly. "So I also stated a fact tonight: marrying you was just about suitability, not love. Did I say anything untrue either?" He took a step toward me, looking down with an imposing glare. "Chloe, you've changed. You never used to be this aggressive." I had no desire to bicker with him. "I've thought it through. We don't fit. We're getting a divorce." "You think you can just call it quits whenever you want?" He slammed his hand against the doorframe, his voice booming. "Chloe, do you even realize what you're saying? Divorcing over something so trivial? Are you five years old?!" "Trivial?" My voice matched his volume instantly. "Your ex comes back, you treat her like a queen, leave me out in the cold the entire night, insist on driving her home while telling me to take the subway—you call that trivial?" "What counts as serious to you then? Waiting until the two of you crawl into the same bed?!" "Watch your mouth!" he roared. "Watch my mouth? If you have the guts to do it, don't be scared when someone calls you out on it!"He took a deep, jagged breath. "Fine. Maybe I didn't pay enough attention to how you felt tonight. I apologize." "Now take back the word 'divorce.' I don't want to hear it again." "I won't take it back." "Chloe!" "Why are you shouting?" My voice overpowered his. "You think whoever yells loudest is in the right?" "When you humiliated me in front of her tonight, did you give a single damn about my feelings? And now you have the nerve to yell at me?" His chest heaved violently. "So you're keeping score? Because I peeled her a shrimp and didn't peel one for you? Because I chatted with her and didn't chat with you? Chloe, when did you become so narrow-minded?" "Yeah, that's right. I am narrow-minded." I walked to the door and shoved past him. "I'm narrow-minded, so I can't tolerate a husband whose heart belongs to another woman. Are you satisfied now?" I stepped back into the guest room and looked him in the eye. "I'm contacting a divorce lawyer tomorrow. We can discuss asset division then." With that, I shut the door in his face and locked it. Silence hung on the other side for a few seconds before a loud, heavy thud echoed. He punched the door. "Chloe! Open this door! Let's talk like adults!" I ignored him. His footsteps stomped away, followed by the heavy slam of the master bedroom door. Before today, I never imagined my marriage would end up like this. The next morning, voices woke me up. Someone was talking in the living room—a man and a woman. Lucas. And Vivian. On the coffee table sat a hot breakfast spread: fresh bagels, artisan coffee, and bakery takeout containers. Vivian saw me and immediately stood up, plastering on a warm smile. "Morning! I brought breakfast. Come join us." Her casual tone made it sound like this was her own apartment. I stood by the guest room doorway, watching this absurd scene unfold. "Why is she here?" Lucas set down his coffee mug and cleared his throat. "The plumbing and wiring in her old apartment are broken. It's unsafe." "She's staying with us temporarily until the repairs are done." I walked slowly into the center of the living room, shifting my gaze between Lucas and Vivian. "Say that again?" "She's crashing here for a few days." "I don't agree." Vivian's smile froze instantly. Lucas finally looked up at me, irritation creeping into his voice. "Chloe, could you stop being so unreasonable? She's a single girl who just got back to town, doesn't know anyone, and her place is unlivable. What's wrong with helping her out for a couple of days?" "And what about me?" I walked over to the dining table, remaining on my feet. "I'm your wife. I said no. I own half of this apartment, and I have the right to decide who sleeps under this roof." Vivian waved her hands frantically, putting on a deeply wounded expression. "Please don't be mad. It really is just for a few days." "If you truly mind, I'll just leave. It's just that the old building is really..." "You can get a hotel," I cut her off. "Hotels are expensive! She just returned and hasn't settled into a job yet—" "What does that have to do with me?" I rounded on Lucas. "Whether she has a job or money for a hotel, what does that have to do with you? What does that have to do with this house?" Lucas stood up, real fury in his eyes. "Chloe, do you have to be so heartless? She's my friend. Helping a friend in need is basic human decency!" "Helping a friend." I repeated the words slowly. "Your idea of helping is letting her move into our home, so that every morning I wake up to your ex-girlfriend eating breakfast in my living room?" Tears welled up in Vivian's eyes, her voice trembling. "Chloe, I swear I have no ulterior motives." "Lucas and I are purely platonic friends. It's been so many years—if I wanted to break you two up, why would I wait until now? Please don't misunderstand." I turned my head toward her. "I already told you, I haven't misunderstood anything. Save the drama, you don't need to put on a performance for me." "Chloe!" Lucas shouted. "Enough! You've been throwing a tantrum since last night! Will you ever stop?!" I stared at him coldly. "I said, I don't agree. This house has room for me or her. You pick."The living room fell dead silent. Vivian tugged gently on Lucas's sleeve, murmuring, "Lucas, never mind. I'll just go. Don't fight with her because of me." Lucas didn't move. His glare was fixed murderously on me. "Chloe, if you throw her out today, you are being completely irrational." "Then consider me irrational." "You think I wouldn't dare divorce you?" "Then let's divorce." The air in the room felt suffocating. Vivian stood beside Lucas, her expression a mix of grievance, embarrassment, and a flicker of something triumphant. Lucas clenched his fists so hard his knuckles popped. "Fine. Fine. Chloe, remember every single word you said today." "I remember them perfectly. Make sure you do too." I turned on my heel, walked back into the guest room, and started changing into my work clothes. Behind me, Vivian's hushed voice floated in: "Lucas, don't be rash. She's just angry in the moment..." "Let her leave." When I came out fully dressed, they were still in the living room. I walked straight to the entrance and put on my shoes. "I'm heading to the office. When I come home tonight, I don't want to see a single trace of her belongings in my house." The door clicked shut behind me. Sitting on the subway, I sent a text to Ethan: *Do you know any reliable divorce attorneys you could recommend?* He replied almost instantly: *Are you really doing this?* *Really doing this.* *Alright. I'll send you a few contacts by lunchtime.* I locked my phone and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. The subway car swayed gently as it filled with commuters. Packed into a corner, my shoulder pressed against the cold metal railing. My mind was a chaotic blur. I remembered when Lucas and I got engaged, his mother had taken my hand and said: "Chloe, dear, Lucas had someone special in his heart before. But since he's willing to marry you, it means he's put her behind him. Be patient with him." Back then, I naively thought, everyone has a past. My phone chimed with several attorney cards sent by Ethan. I saved each one. When the train pulled into my station, I was swept forward by the crowd, my legs feeling strangely weightless. The morning sun outside was blinding. Squinting, I walked into the office tower. I ran into Ethan in the elevator lobby. Holding a cup of coffee, he took one look at my pale face and held out the cup. "Haven't touched it. Here." "I'm fine, thanks." He pulled his hand back, leaning against the elevator wall, his eyes scanning my exhausted features. "Chloe, you look like you didn't sleep a wink." "Pretty much." As the elevator doors slid open, he spoke softly, "If you need help with anything, just ask." I nodded and stepped out. Everything at my desk was exactly as usual—the dual monitors, the files, the sticky notes. Yet sitting there today, everything felt foreign. I woke up my computer, stared blankly at the screen for a minute, and then began drafting a divorce settlement. My screen lit up. A message from Lucas: *Let's talk properly when you get home tonight. Don't do anything reckless.* I didn't answer. There was nothing left to discuss. That evening, I didn't go home. I stayed at the office working until ten, then crashed at my best friend Rachel's apartment. Lucas called me seven or eight times. I declined every single one. He sent a lengthy text on SnapChat: *She just got back, and life isn't easy for her. If I don't help her, who will?* *You're completely overthinking this. There is nothing between us.* *If it makes you feel better, she can stay strictly in the guest room. She won't bother us at all.* Reading it, I scoffed. I texted back: *I'm at Rachel's. Coming back tomorrow morning. You'd better have her out by then.* He replied: *Do you really have to push me into a corner like this?* I didn't respond. The next morning was Saturday. When I unlocked the front door, the first thing I saw was a pair of off-white designer heels sitting by the shoe rack. The rich aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the living room. Vivian was wearing an apron, bustling around the kitchen stove. Lucas was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Hearing the door, he looked up and forced a smile. "You're back? She made a few dishes. Let's eat together." I stood in the entryway, my sneakers still on. My eyes traveled from the off-white heels to Lucas on the couch, and finally to Vivian in the kitchen. She turned around and gave me a sweet, docile smile. "You're home! Perfect timing, the glazed pork ribs are almost ready. Lucas mentioned they're your favorite, so I made them specially for you." The apron she wore was mine. The slippers on her feet were also mine. I set my handbag on the console table and walked in slowly. "She hasn't left?" Lucas's smile faded. "Chloe, I thought about it seriously. Her old place really isn't safe to live in. Repairs will take at least a month. Just let her take the guest room for this month. I promise—" "You promise what?" I stood in the middle of the room. "What collateral do you have to promise anything?"