I frowned, trying to shake his hand off.

"Don't forget, you've been a housewife for years! If you divorce me, how will you survive? You don't even have a real job!" Vincent's words cut deeper than I expected.

Sure, I used to have dreams. But for him, I gave it all up—no career, no independence.

"I can find work. I'll be fine," I said, my tone cold. "And even if I can't make ends meet, I'd rather beg on the streets than come crawling back to ...