Chapter 4My Wife Was Obsessed With Buying Cheap Junk on Temu

"What?"

I asked in sheer disbelief.

"I said, we are getting a divorce."

This was the biggest joke of the century.

Married for three years, she relied entirely on me to survive.

And she actually had the guts to bring up divorce.

She had no house, no car, no job. If she left me, she probably wouldn't even be able to afford a meal.

I found it hilarious. "You want a divorce?"

"Yes, a divorce!"

She said it with absolute certainty.

I laughed out of sheer anger. "Fine. We'll go tomorrow."

I thought she would chicken out. I thought she would apologize and say she was just confused for a moment.

But she didn't.

She looked at me calmly and spat out one sentence—

"Whoever doesn't go is a cowardly bastard."

Whoever is a bastard, it certainly wouldn't be me!

If it wasn't for the fact that she gave birth to my son, I wouldn't even be willing to support her anymore.

Worn-out housewife.

I was completely different.

I was young, I owned a house, a car, and had a stable job.

Willing to dish out a $4,000 monthly allowance, why would I ever worry about finding a beautiful woman who knew how to live nicely, just like Vivian?

I sneered at Hazel, who had sat down in silence to eat.

"Don't forget, we are going first thing tomorrow morning."

"Whoever backs out is a bastard!"

Hazel didn't answer. She picked up a piece of catfish with her fork and shoveled a huge bite of rice into her mouth.

Even the way she ate looked like a starving ghost reincarnated. Utterly low-class.

I scoffed, turned around, and walked out the door.

I planned to call some friends out for drinks, but unexpectedly ran into Vivian in the elevator.

"Arthur, what a coincidence! Have you eaten yet?"

"N-no, not yet. Sorry about the drain cleaner, I forgot to bring it down to you."

Vivian smiled sweetly. "Oh, it's no big deal. I haven't eaten either."

I quickly said, "I heard a new buffet opened nearby. Do you want to go try it out together?"

Inside the restaurant, Vivian, wearing a flowing maxi dress, walked over with a plate, looking stunningly beautiful.

But her plate only held a tiny bit of meat, a salad, and two pieces of pudding.

I couldn't help but advise her:

"Vivian, this is a $50 buffet! Don't be shy, what's so good about pudding? Go get some seafood!"

She pressed her lips together slightly. "This is already quite a lot. I heard their pudding is really good."

Watching her elegantly take small bites of her salad, I couldn't help but mentally complain about Hazel.

When she first got pregnant, we went to a buffet together. Her plates were piled sky-high, and food was shoveled into her stomach like a conveyer belt.

Hazel even secretly unbuttoned her pants just so she could eat more.

I had originally planned to bring Hazel to this exact $50 buffet for our fourth anniversary. Too bad she didn't have the blessing to enjoy it, insisting on divorcing me.

Now someone else was getting the treat.

But for someone like Hazel, it was pearls before swine anyway.