Husband's Obsession with Money

My husband Kyler Ross was a miser.

I bought an item of clothing worth 11.5 dollars including shipping, and he was so angry that he stamped his foot at home.

"You're a big spender. How can we support our life in the future?"

I bought some health products when I was sick, and he gave me the silent treatment for seven days.

"You are just being fooled by charlatans!"

Even when I transferred 8.5 dollars to my younger brother Liam Collins on his birthday, Kyler complained with tears and snot.

"You only think of your brother! Please, please spend less!"

For the sake of our relationship, I chose to compromise and tolerate.

I spent less and lived frugally as Kyler asked.

Unexpectedly, I lived a frugal life for a lifetime.

When I was old, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer because I often ate leftovers. But he ignored my desperate pleas and forced me to leave the hospital, watching me die in great agony.

I woke up again.

I got back control of my money.

The hell with being frugal. I wanted to live freely!

——

"Treating your illness will probably cost tens of thousands of dollars. I know it's a big burden for your family."

The doctor handed me the test report with a sympathetic expression on his face as if he had already pronounced my death sentence.

But I felt ecstatic.

Tens of thousands of dollars?

Only tens of thousands of dollars?

Over the years, Kyler and I had saved at least 500,000 dollars. It was enough to pay for my treatment!

I looked at Kyler with joy while he shot an angry look at me and jumped up, slamming the test report down on the desk.

"If I pay for this, can you guarantee a cure?"

The doctor naturally couldn't make such a guarantee. He could only remind Kyler tactfully that there was a high chance of survival if I underwent the treatment; otherwise, I would end up dead.

But Kyler said stubbornly to me, "This is the trick that doctors use to deceive their patients."

...

Soon, he ignored my desperate pleas and arranged for my discharge.

After I returned home, my illness quickly worsened.

When I was in excruciating pain, he didn't even buy me painkillers.

I suffered physical and mental torment and soon passed away.

...

After death, a wisp of my soul watched Kyler casually bury my ashes in the overgrown grass at the village entrance.

Then with our lifelong savings, he married a younger wife and lived a comfortable middle-aged life.

I worked hard for years, but all in vain!

...

I woke up again!

I went back to the time when Kyler first asked me for my payroll card.