Bankrupt Husband? Actually, Hidden Gambling King

At a high school reunion, my wife, Hillary Sheffer, known for her great luck in gambling, ends up losing three million dollars to her first love, Shane Norris.

This amount included the two million dollars that we had set aside to buy a new house as well as the life-saving money that I needed for my mom's brain surgery.

I'm so furious that all I feel is iciness permeating my pores. Then, I question Hillary angrily, "Did you lose to Shane on purpose? I've never seen you lose before when you gambled during family gatherings!"

But Hillary turns her head away from me righteously.

"There's no such thing as full confidence in winning every game when it comes to gambling. All I can do is cough up the payment whenever I lose.

"Besides, it's difficult enough for Shane to raise his own kid after getting divorced. What's wrong with me lending him a helping hand?

"You're a grown-up now, Lucas. Stop being so stingy and petty."

As Shane wraps an arm around Hillary's shoulders, he pushes the die toward me. Mockery can be seen plastered all over his face.

"Hey, Lucas, you should be a good sport and know how to accept defeat gracefully. You already have Hillary as your wife. Meanwhile, I just want some money from her. Isn't this fair enough?

"Then again, I can give you a chance. Let's go for one more round, you and me. If you win, I'll return the money to you."

Everyone else begins cheering us on, eager to watch an exciting drama unfold.

I don't respond to Shane at all. Instead, I pick up the die.

After leaving Harkensalle, I've sworn that I will never touch anything related to gambling ever again. I never thought that I'd end up breaking that vow in less than three years.

Shane Norris stood there looking smug, like he was certain he was going to win.

With a lazy smirk, he said, "Lucas, you don't look like someone who knows how to play. Let's keep it simple then—high-low."

As he spoke, he shot a look at the others around the room and raised his voice.

"But just betting money is boring. How about the loser has to bark like a dog in front of everyone? Sounds exciting, right?"

The room erupted in laughter, and countless pairs of eyes turned to me, waiting for a show.

One classmate I knew somewhat well leaned in and whispered, "Lucas, don't be rash. Shane learned his dice skills from Hillary herself, and she's placed in international competitions. Playing against him is basically suicide."

Naturally, I hadn't forgotten that fact.

My wife, Hillary Sheffer, could make dice dance like magic in her hands. So, the several million dollars she'd just lost to Shane had to have been somewhat deliberate.

Frowning, Hillary walked over and reached for my arm. "Why are you even gambling? You don't know anything about this. Get up. We're going home."

I took a step back, avoiding