I knocked his hand away, revulsion clear on my face.
I squinted at him, my voice firm, "From today on, you won't see a dime from me."
Zach's smirk remained, but a cold shadow passed over his eyes.
"What happened to our plan? Your money was supposed to help fund our wedding."
I almost wanted to slap my past self for being so naive.
Grow some brain, former Olivia!
I had handed him every dime during school, all my scholarships, then my salary—believing we were building a future.
He turned those funds into stocks, rode the bull market, and bought a house that all became premarital assets.
It wasn't until my death I found out the house was only in his name.
"Yeah, keep dreaming," I retorted.
"Fund our wedding? Consider it a donation to your family's altar."
"We're done. You're a dumpster fire."
Zach's eyes flared with fury, a vein throbbing on his temple.
Oh, is the mask slipping now?
I arched an eyebrow, challenging him.
"You think you can break up with me?" he looked down at me, using his height to intimidate me.
Memories of his past abuse flashed before me, stirring a wave of fear.
His fist clenched, ready to strike.