It turned out he wasn't stingy; it's just that his generosity had never been meant for me.
On the way home, I rolled the car window all the way down. The wind rushed in violently, stinging my face.
Three years. I'd been a fool for three whole years.
When I first said I wanted to personally design our home, he hugged me and spun me around, saying, "Okay."
At that moment, I truly believed he cherished me above all else.
He remembered, he had to remember.
He must remember that day, when a thug's knife came at him and I unhesitatingly blocked it for him, the wound only a centimeter away from my heart. It made me lie unconscious in the hospital for three days and nights while he wept at my bedside, swearing he'd love me forever.
Sadly, he never truly cared. Or, maybe in his mind, that scar was just a reason for him to be more reckless.
The doctor had warned me that extreme emotional swings could aggravate the nerves around the old wound.
So, I tilted my head back with all my might, trying to suppress the bitterness. Still, my chest felt suffocated.