Chapter 2

Over the weekend, Isaac's college friends were coming over for a dinner party.

In the past, I would take care of all the arrangements myself.

I would buy groceries, prepare ingredients, cook meals for everyone, and finally clean up the mess.

Isaac, on the other hand, would play the perfect host, basking in everyone's praise.

On Friday night, he handed me an Excel spreadsheet.

"Here is the menu and budget, take a look. We will split it fifty-fifty."

I glanced at it quickly.

The sheet was packed with over ten dishes, ranging from cold appetizers to hot entrées and soups, with the budget precisely controlled under one hundred dollars.

"No problem," I nodded, "But this weekend I need to accompany Aileen, so I will not have time to cook."

Isaac frowned, "Then how will I entertain my friends?"

"You can hire a private chef or simply order from outside and have it delivered." I returned the spreadsheet to him, "It is quite convenient."

"Hiring someone is not free, is it? Food ordered from outside is not as sincere as home-cooked meals?" He retorted immediately.

"We can split the cost of the private chef. As for sincerity," I looked at him, "your sincerity means leaving me to put on a show alone?"

He was speechless.

Ultimately, he relented.

"Ordering is fine, but the budget cannot be exceeded."

"Of course."

On the day of the party, I went to the hospital early in the morning.

Isaac called around noon, his tone barely concealing his anger. "Sabrina! What did you order? This little bit costs two thousand dollars?"

"Yes, it is a gourmet set from a premium hotel for eight people, plus a complimentary bottle of wine," I said lightly, "The ingredients are fresh, the presentation is beautiful, does it not make us look good?"

"Look good? You have completely embarrassed me!" He was almost shouting, "We agreed on a budget of five hundred dollars, but you spent two thousand! How am I supposed to explain this to my friends?"

"We will split it." I said leisurely, "You pay a thousand, I pay a thousand dollars, it is fair."

"I do not have that much money!"

"You can write an IOU." I replied in his previous tone, "According to our prenuptial agreement, interest-free loans are capped at two hundred dollars, any excess incurs a daily interest rate of five percent, and requires collateral."

Silence fell on the other end.

I could imagine his face turning ashen.

"Sabrina, are you out of your mind?"

"I am perfectly sane." I hung up and set my phone to silent mode.

Aileen had just finished her medication, her complexion still pale. "Sabrina, did you have a fight with Isaac?"

"No," I handed her a peeled apple, "I am just teaching him some math."

Aileen nodded, half-understanding.

In the afternoon, I received a call from Doris Saunders, my mother-in-law.

Her voice was sharp, full of accusations. "Sabrina! What is wrong with you? You embarrassed Isaac so much at the dinner party! Are you trying to ruin your marriage?"

"I am just following the rules Isaac set."

"What rules? He is my son. What is wrong with spending a bit more of your money? Why are you, a woman, being so calculative?"

"Even brothers keep clear accounts. Isaac and I are just husband and wife."

Doris gasped angrily on the other end. "You! What kind of talk is that! Let me tell you, Sabrina, our family will not accept a daughter-in-law who is so calculative!"

"Great, I will go with Isaac to file for divorce tomorrow."

"You would not dare!"

"Watch me." I hung up the phone directly.

The world was quiet again.