I pulled out the folder with my acceptance letter from the University of Oxford. In my previous life, I always had an affinity for the southern regions, especially as finance was a subject I truly loved. Back then, I put my education on hold for Oliver, opting to stay home to care for his parents. Luckily, this time, I have the chance to change my path. I want to live for myself now.
When I glanced at my calendar, I realized there were only ten days left until my departure. Time is short, and I need to make every moment count as I prepare.
A sudden knock at the door interrupted my train of thought, and I opened it, feeling a bit impatient. Oliver stood there with a bowl of ravioli, his voice soft, "Hungry? I made you some ravioli."
For a moment, I was taken aback. In my previous life, he was either cold or sharp-tongued towards me. Such warmth from Oliver was something I hadn't experienced in a long time.
"No thanks. I already ate out," I replied.
"How could that be? You're usually careful with money."
His words stung. I had been frugal before, scrimping and saving, spending most of the money I earned from part-time jobs on him, buying him things. Now that I'm heading off to university, money will be tight, and every penny counts.
I looked at him steadily, "I remember giving you £50 a few days ago for wedding supplies. You didn't buy anything, so can you return it?"
He hesitated for a moment before awkwardly admitting, "I spent it on new shoes for Zara."
I couldn't help but smile wryly. The same old story.
"If there's nothing else, I'm closing the door and going to sleep."
"I'll pay you back tomorrow," he said, annoyed. "We're married; do you really need to be so tight-fisted?"
I couldn't help but scoff, "I'm not allowed to care that you're using the money I worked hard to save to buy things for someone else?"
He knew he was in the wrong, but he stubbornly muttered, "Unbelievable."
Tired of the argument, I slammed the door shut.
