After the Divorce, Married to the Quiet Billionaire Next Door

For buying a few extra bags of chips, Ethan Whitney locked my daughter and me in the basement.

Four whole hours. My little girl's fever climbed to 104, and I knelt behind that iron door, begging him to let us out.

He said: "Waste money, you get punished."

For the longest time, I thought he was just frugal.

Neither of our families had much. The mortgage and the car payments crushed the breath out of us, and he wouldn't even spring for a new shirt for himself.

My heart ached for him, so I pinched pennies right alongside him.