Romance
Three months into our marriage, Brooke Callahan kept saying my living expenses came far too easily. So she started sorting my requests by color: red for urgent, yellow for routine, and blue for deferred.Every time I needed money, I had to submit an application, which was then reviewed and approved by her assistant, Noah Rothwell.Brooke told me that marriage wasn't charity, and as her husband, I was even more obligated to follow the rules. So when I was hospitalized with gastroenteritis for three days, my request was marked blue. I was told it would only be approved if I provided the relevant receipts.When I wanted to buy my mother a birthday present, it was blue again, with a budget of fifty dollars. When my back pain became unbearable, and I wanted to buy a robotic vacuum cleaner, my request was labeled blue and subsequently rejected.Then I went in for an examination, and the doctor told me that I had severe lumbar spondylolisthesis. I needed surgery as soon as possible. If it progressed, I could eventually become paralyzed from the waist down.As usual, I submitted an application.Two minutes later, the reply came. "Blue. Request denied."I finally couldn't take it anymore. I went to Brooke's company, only to see Noah walking out of her office.The watch on his wrist caught my eye.I'd seen that watch before. It had been sitting in Brooke's shopping cart a week ago, and cost twenty-eight thousand dollars.Now, Noah was holding up a receipt and grinning at everyone. "Six thousand for tonight's dinner. Ms. Callahan approved it!"Everyone cheered."Noah, you're the man!""I told you! Nobody knows how to handle Ms. Callahan better than Noah!"The hand I'd been resting against my aching back went rigid. Suddenly, I thought the past two years of my life had been one long joke—and I was the punchline.I didn't flip out, nor did I make a scene. I simply turned around and went to a law firm.When the lawyer saw me walk in, he asked, "What can I help you with?""I'd like to file for divorce."
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