The Wife Who Destroyed Me

On my wedding day, I was scrambling to cover my mom's surgery.

At the last minute, I asked to raise the dowry from $88,000 to $280,000.

Lily Simmons agreed without a word. Changed the amount herself, calm as ever.

But as we climbed into the wedding car, two words drifted to my ears, light as air:

"Gold digger."

From that day on, she paraded her affairs in public. Let strangers call me the husband with a price tag. Even on our third anniversary—while I sat in a hospital waiting room, stomach cramping, too broke to pay my own bill—she was in Harbor City, lighting up the sky with a…