Pregnant Wife Demanded My Whole Salary, I Abandoned Her
Plot Summary
After Roy Mason's pregnant wife Sara Manning loses her income, she demands full control of his entire salary and confronts him for spending money at a karaoke bar when they are short on delivery fees. Angered by her control, Roy kicks Sara out of his car on a busy highway and forces her to remove the maternity dress he paid for before abandoning her to get home on her own.
Search Tags
- Character-focused: Roy Mason, Sara Manning, Roy Mason and Sara Manning
- Plot-focused: what happens to Sara Manning in Pregnant Wife Demanded My Whole Salary, I Abandoned Her, why does Roy Mason abandon Sara Manning
Character Relationships
- Roy Mason & Sara Manning: They are married spouses. After Sara becomes pregnant and loses her income, their relationship becomes toxic due to Sara's demand for full control of Roy's salary, leading to Roy's explosive retaliation and abandonment.
- Power Dynamic: For years Sara controlled the household both financially and socially, while Roy suppressed his frustration. After the confrontation, Roy reverses the power dynamic and leaves Sara helpless and dependent on his mercy.
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My wife lost her income when she got pregnant.
But she still controlled every cent of my salary.
I was driving her home from a prenatal checkup.
Out of nowhere she asked,
Have you been hiding money from me?
No.
Without a flicker on her face, she pulled out a bill. Three thousand spent at a karaoke bar.
"We're still five grand short for the delivery. Roy Mason, what exactly are you playing at?"
I clicked my tongue.
"My money. I spend it however I want."
"That's marital property!"
Her eyes went red. "What gives you the right to do this?"
I stopped the car on the highway.
I unbuckled her seatbelt.
Then I reached over and shoved her out onto the highway, cars streaking past in both directions.
"Sara Manning, do you get it? You're the only one in this family who doesn't contribute a thing."
She stood frozen, both hands cradling her belly.
"You want to talk about who has no right? It's you."
"My money, my house,"
"and the passenger seat of my car. You have no right to any of it."
"Roy what are you saying?"
Sara stared at me, dazed.
I kept both hands on the wheel.
"You said I had no right, remember?
Then let's find out what your life looks like without me."
"You're joking, Roy. Tell me you're joking."
Sara took a step forward.
I'd already shut the door first.
She stood outside the window, staring at me.
Every trace of her earlier edge was gone, replaced by shock and confusion.
So it turned out that even someone like Sara, a real high-flier at work.
She had a fragile side too.
Something oddly satisfying stirred in me.
I rested one arm on the window.
"If you're so capable, pay for your own cab home.
If you can't, then walk."
"But"
The car was already moving.
Sara ran after it a couple of steps.
Then she stopped, clutching her belly.
Face pale, breathing hard.
The next second.
My car came back.
"Roy!"
Her eyes lit up.
"Forgot one thing."
I laid my hand on the window.
"That maternity dress you're wearing. I bought it."
She blinked. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, what's mine is mine."
The corners of her eyes reddened.
The hand fisting the fabric over her belly was shaking too.
"You can't actually mean for me to, out here"
She couldn't finish.
I nodded.
"But I'm barely wearing anything underneath. You want me to strip right here?"
"That's your problem."
"You"
What was on Sara's face wasn't sadness.
It was despair.
In the seven years I'd known her.
It was the first time I'd seen that huge, lost helplessness in her.
She was so used to running the show, at work and at home.
She'd never once realized there'd be a day she had to beg someone.
So she'd never left herself any room.
I felt an indescribable satisfaction.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Take it off."
Cars kept passing.
Every one of them slowed to peer curiously through the window.
And then Sara actually cried.
"I'll admit I was wrong, just let me back in the car, I'm begging you.
It's so dark out here, I'm scared"
She looked at me through her tears.
She'd never seen me like this, this unmovable.
She looked around.
She spotted a cluster of bushes.
When I saw her taking the dress off in there.
Her shoulders shook, over and over.
She threw the dress at me.
I caught it.
Even behind the bushes, I could see it.
She was hugging her thin, barely-covered body tight.
Seven months pregnant.
Crouched in there, every position an agony.
But she didn't dare stand up.
She lifted her head, eyes red.
"If you've cooled down now, just let me back in the car"
So even Sara could say something this small, this pleading.
I tossed her dress onto the back seat.
And left her nothing but a cold smile.
The car sped down the highway through the dark.
I couldn't keep the corners of my mouth from lifting.
Maybe I'd gone a little too far this time.
But after this.
She'd finally learn what respect meant.
With Sara gone from the house, almost everything ran the way I wanted.
I could set the thermostat below sixty-eight and nobody complained about the cold.
I could crank the TV to full volume and nobody told me I was disturbing her rest.
I could leave my clothes wherever I dropped them, and no one with a swollen belly stood there ordering me to put them in the washer.
Sara always liked being in charge of people.
At the office she ran other people.
At home she ran me.
Big things, small things.
She had to manage all of it.
Even pregnant, she kept up the same management routine.
Someone pounded on the door.
Had Sara actually found a way to get herself back here?
"Roy!"
My parents came in flushed and out of breath.
The moment they saw me, they lost it.
"You dumped Sara on the highway?"
"Mom, keep it down, you'll bother the neighbors."
"I don't care! Go get her back right now!"
"Mom, I just wanted her to learn her lesson."
"Learn her lesson?"
My father's eyes went wide.
"That's your wife! And my grandchild's inside her!
"I don't care what you two are fighting about. At the very least, while she's pregnant, you accommodate her a little!
"Go bring her back now! This instant!"
I clicked my tongue.
Accommodate.
The exact word Sara used.
"Roy, I'm pregnant. Can't you accommodate me a little?"
"Roy, I'm carrying a baby."
"Roy, my stomach really hurts."
I'd accommodated her for seven months.
But since my parents were standing right here.
I couldn't make too big a scene of it.
The car pulled up outside the police station.
Sara was in a new set of clothes.
A female officer draped a coat over her shoulders.
Held her up as she walked out.
Her eyes and nose were both red.
Both hands rested on her belly.
She looked at me.
Tears filled her eyes all at once.
"You finally came."
The officer shot me a look.
"What kind of dispute makes a man dump someone on the highway? A pregnant woman, no less."
I managed a thin smile.
My mother rushed over and steadied her.
"Sweetheart, you've suffered. Get in the car, I already gave this brat a talking-to.
"He swears he won't dare do it again!"
Sara glanced at me.
I couldn't find that hard edge in her eyes anymore.
She seemed to be slowly learning how to be a good wife.
She came up to me and sniffled.
"Roy"
"I'll take you home. Fine."
I said it plainly.
"But from now on, I manage your paycheck."
She froze.
"Do you agree?"
Her eyes got even redder.
She nodded.
Her voice caught a little.
"I agree"
I brought her home.
Only after my parents warned me over and over not to pull anything like that again.
Did they finally turn and leave.
Sara handed every last bit of her money over to me.
"A hundred and eight thousand in total.
"A hundred and five of that is the baby's education fund. I haven't touched a cent."
"Good."
I put the money away.
Together with the paycheck I hadn't handed over during her pregnancy.
What I was holding now.
Came to just under two hundred thousand.
So this was what it felt like to have the money in your own hands.
The next day.
I pulled out a booking slip for a private postpartum care center.
Sixty thousand dollars a month.
From delivery and labor support to postpartum care and recovery.
The full package, all in one place.
"I booked it for you."
I watched Sara take the slip, stunned.
My tone didn't rise or fall.
"So you can't say I mistreated you while I held the money."
The slip trembled in her hands.
She pressed her lips together.
Lifted her head, eyes red.
"Thank you"
That same night.
I moved her in.
She stayed there three days.
The light in her eyes grew brighter and brighter.
One hand braced on her lower back, she stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, her whole face full of wonder.
"Thank you, Roy. I'd never have brought myself to stay somewhere this expensive."
I stood a little way off, smoking.
"You should be careful while you're pregnant."
"Is there still enough money to get by? Am I costing too much because of the baby?"
"That's not something you need to worry about."
I stubbed out the cigarette.
"As long as it's good for your health."
She seemed a little embarrassed.
Pressed her lips together.
And, awkwardly, got out a single line.
"Thank you.
"Once I've had the baby, I'll pay this money back."
"No need."
The end of everything.
A week before her due date.
I don't know where she picked up the rumor.
She shoved open the door of the private room upstairs at the postpartum care center.
Cigarette between my fingers, a model tucked under my arm, I froze.
The music cut off.
I looked at her, a little awkward.
"Sara..."
She didn't say a word.
She crossed the room in a few strides.
And slapped me hard across the face.
"Ma'am, please, calm down!"
The agent rushed over in a panic.
She turned and slapped that agent hard across the face too.
"So this is what you people call top-tier service!
"Running this kind of business upstairs at a postpartum center! Are you all that desperate to survive? Do you have any conscience left at all?"
This agent was also Sara's midwife.
Her eyes were red.
The model I'd hired shrank against me in fear.
Sara pointed at her, eyes rimmed red.
"Do you even know what kind of place this is?
"Do you know the men you're servicing are all fathers-to-be?
"Have you got any shame left?"
She grabbed a fistful of the model Crystal's hair.
The room dissolved into chaos.
A liquor bottle toppled to the floor.
The whole private room filled with her crying and cursing and the models' shocked screams.
Threaded through with the agent's frantic pleading.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Then grabbed Sara by the arm.
"Are you done making a scene?"
"Me? Making a scene?"
Sara's eyes brimmed with tears.
"Roy, tell me the truth. When you booked this postpartum center, you already knew, didn't you?"
I said nothing.
"You book a place like this, and you still have the nerve to say I'm making a scene?"
She'd yanked my collar into wrinkles.
A thread of irritation rose in me.
I pushed her off.
"Then pay for it yourself!"
She stood there, frozen.
"Go on! Book a postpartum center with no working girls in it! Go ahead!"
Her trembling hands cupped her belly.
"I'm pregnant. How am I supposed to earn money to book a postpartum center?"
I felt myself getting agitated.
"Go sell yourself, then."
She went blank.
Swallowed hard.
And forced the words out, hoarse.
"What did you say?"
"Go sell yourself! It's not like there aren't pregnant ones doing it here.
"They can do it. Why can't you?"
Her tears nearly spilled over.
She bit down hard and held them back.
"Roy, are you even human?"
Watching her shake, unable to get a word out.
Something in me twisted too.
So I turned my face away.
And spoke like a man digging in out of spite.
"No money, then go back down.
"Rest downstairs where you belong.
"Don't worry. I won't actually do anything with them."
"Roy, you animal!"
Sara lunged at me.
I instinctively moved to stop her.
But her swollen feet gave out first.
Thud. She went down on the floor.
The agent.
Her midwife too.
Stepped in and caught her.
Looked at the fluid spreading across the floor beneath her.
The agent cried out.
"Ma'am! Your water broke!"
I stood there, stunned.
"Sir, we have to get her to the delivery room right now.
"Three thousand. Pay the fee first."
Sara clutched her belly.
Struggled to lift her head and look at me.
Tears still glistened in her eyes.
But her voice had turned into a plea.
"Honey... help me..."
I turned.
Pulled three thousand in cash out of my wallet.
"Didn't you say you don't know how to earn money?
"Come on. Let me teach you how it's done around here.
"Kneel down. Bite it.
"Then the money's yours."
Sara looked at me.
She smiled.
Her tears struck the floor hard.
"Do you really have to push me this far?"
"Do you want it or not?"
The three thousand hung there in midair.
Sara had been proud her whole life.
Begging me was already the limit of what she could do.
She braced herself against the floor.
One hand cradling her belly.
She looked from face to face, pleading.
"Please... help me..."
The agent and the models dropped their eyes,
and said nothing.
"Please, I'm begging you!"
Her tears fell one after another.
This moment.
This was when the last of her pride truly broke.
Maybe I should have taken the money back.
Helped her up.
Carried her downstairs to give birth.
But a real marriage, the kind where husband and wife respect each other,
maybe it has to come through some pain.
She shuffled forward on her knees.
Opened her mouth.
And the three thousand.
She bit down on it.
In that moment.
She was no different from any of the women here.
Tears fell onto the three thousand.
She lowered her head.
And sobbed.
That was when the agent finally turned midwife.
It wasn't long before the medical staff came up from downstairs and carried her away.
Sara never looked at me again.
The door of the private room closed.
Another agent came over with a drink.
Smiling, apologizing to me.
Crystal's hair, mussed from Sara's grabbing, was neat again.
Her hand stroked lightly up and down over my chest.
"Did she scare you, honey?"
I looked down at Crystal.
Her eyes were full of concern.
Even with the slap mark Sara had left still on her face.
At least.
There was still someone in this world who wouldn't blame me.
Sara gave birth.
A baby boy, six pounds two.
I saw him.
I loved him at once.
Sara lay on the delivery bed, her face pale.
The air conditioning in the room was cranked high.
The whole room warmed her through.
The nutrition meals sat quietly at her bedside.
She didn't speak.
Just gazed out the window.
I lifted our son up a little.
"Are you planning to check out now, or stay a while longer?"
Her hand gripped the blanket over her belly.
"I was in labor a whole day. I can't even get out of bed. How am I supposed to check out?"
"Then either I keep paying and you don't worry about anything.
"Or, if you really can't accept it, I'll arrange your discharge."
She pursed her lips.
Her eyes still fixed on the window.
As if forcing back tears.
"Which do you choose?"
I asked her.
She pulled the blanket up.
Covered her face.
I heard the muffled sound of her crying.
I knew her choice.
For the next two weeks or so.
I was upstairs during the day.
At night I'd come down to check on the two of them.
On the last day.
Crystal leaned in to kiss me.
I pushed her away.
"Honey, you're leaving today. We won't see each other again after this."
Crystal's eyes went red.
I said nothing.
"Just think of it as something to remember."
Her scent came close to me again.
I pushed her away.
Stood and straightened my collar.
Tossed her a stack of bills.
"I'll remember you."
This past month had been like a dream.
It was the happiest month I'd had.
Since Sara and I first started dating.
Leaving now.
There was so much I couldn't let go of.
But I knew.
In the end, I still had to go back to my family.
I went downstairs.
Sara had already come down ahead of me.
She held the baby.
Waiting at the curb, not saying a word.
I stepped forward with the car keys.
"Come on, we're going home."
She didn't move.
"Get in the car."
I held the passenger door open and looked at her.
She brought her face close to our son.
"I'm not waiting for you."
I froze.
A Ferrari pulled up slowly behind my car.
A man I'd never seen before came over and rested his hand on Sara's waist.
The two of them said something.
Sara nodded and followed him toward the Ferrari, going along with him.
"Sara!"
I went after her. "Who is he?"
Sara turned her head to look at me. "Whatever that model is to you, that's what he is to me."
"You've lost your mind!"
I couldn't believe my ears.
"You'd do something like this!"
She raised her eyes slowly.
Her hand still patting our son gently.
"Weren't you the one who told me to do this line of work?"
It was as though I'd been nailed to the spot.
"I have to say, there are plenty of men out there.
"Plenty richer than you."
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