Chapter 1

My boyfriend Ethan makes forty thousand dollars a month, and every month he puts thirty thousand dollars into an account for me. Everyone says I found a great guy.

But only I knew he never gave me the card's PIN.

He said it was for our future, but our present? I paid for everything.

Dinners out, rent, even his clothes and new phone -- he always asked me for money.

I was a college student who hadn't even graduated yet, working four part-time jobs, to the point my period stopped being regular. All he said was:

"I'm putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, and you're still quibbling over these small amounts?"

Then came my graduation presentation. My mom had a heart attack. I rushed to the bank with that card, only for the teller to tell me---

"Ma'am, this card was canceled three years ago. There was never a single cent in it."

At that moment, standing in the bank lobby, looking at that useless piece of plastic in my hand, I suddenly burst out laughing.

On our third anniversary, my boyfriend Ethan updated his Ins.

The post featured a retouched photo of us at a fancy restaurant, with a close-up of a bank card and a bouquet of flowers beside it. The caption read:

"Three-year anniversary. The 36th deposit of $30,000 for her is in. That $30,000 I put aside for her every month is her security."

His comments section was full of praise:

A friend commented: "Ethan is so good to her, thirty thousand a month? Who could resist that?"

A colleague commented: "Hazel must've saved the galaxy in a past life."

His mom commented: "My son is so reliable. Hazel is lucky to be with him."

I looked at that beautifully crafted post and could only think that I paid $880 for that dinner, and even the flowers on the table were bought by me.

Before I could even process it, Ethan sent me a few links:

"Hazel, can you pay for these shoes for me? And this shirt, I need some new clothes."

I glanced at the prices: the shoes were one thousand eight hundred, the shirt one thousand two hundred. That was three thousand total. I was currently working four part-time jobs, and only making seven thousand a month altogether.

A bitter feeling rose in my chest. I carefully worded my reply: "Things are a bit tight lately. Maybe next month?"

Ethan replied instantly:

"I put thirty thousand aside for you every month, and you can't even buy me a pair of shoes? Hazel, you're not going to be that stingy, are you?"

"If I wasn't putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, would I even have to ask you for clothes?"

My throat tightened. I opened my banking app; my balance was only four hundred twenty dollars.

"I... I don't have enough money this month. Can I buy them for you next month?"

Ethan replied instantly:

"Not enough again? Hazel, I put thirty thousand aside for you as security for our future, not for you to be so wasteful!"

"Where did all your money go?!"

Where did my money go?

Last week, he said his company was organizing an outdoor team-building event, so I bought him a full outdoor outfit, a thousand dollars.

The week before, I just paid the rent, six thousand.

I used to share an apartment, and it only cost me seven hundred a month.

After I started dating Ethan, he said the bank's dorms were too crowded, and he worried about me living alone as a girl. He insisted on moving in with me.

My shared apartment became a full rental, and my seven hundred dollar monthly rent became two thousand dollars.

In three years, Ethan hadn't paid a single cent of rent.

If I dared to question it, he'd scold me:

"Hazel, if I wasn't putting thirty thousand aside for you every month, would I be so broke? Can't even afford rent? Don't I have any dignity?"

"You're holding a card with over a million of my dollars, and you're still being so cheap about buying me clothes? Do you have a heart?"

"You're just a college student; how would you understand the hardships of working life? You should do more part-time jobs and experience life!"

Thinking of this, I closed my eyes, opened a job search app, and started looking for a fifth part-time job.