Practice Marriage in Poverty? Say Hi to Real Poverty

When Naomi Sullivan married me, she was already ten million dollars in debt. I spent the last five years working three jobs to help her pay off her "debts" while providing for her as well as our son, Shane Lewis.

Not once did I ever complain about anything. All along, I firmly believed that my efforts would pay off, and we would eventually lead a good life together.

Last week, our company finally secured a massive investment. Naomi and I hugged as we celebrated the occasion. I thought that the hard times were finally over.

Today, I ended up seeing Naomi featured in the financial news. Dressed in a formal gown, she was hailed as the sole heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was shown engaged in an animated conversation with her "investor", Jared Lewis.

The news headline read, "Naomi Sullivan Completes Five-Year Adversity Trial, Proves Her Ability to Build from Scratch to the Board of Directors".

I trudge home in a daze. When I get there, the five-year-old Shane is playing with the latest limited-edition toy robot.

He looks at me with a frosty, distant expression that bears an uncanny resemblance to his mother's.

"Mommy told me everything. You failed the trial, Daddy. You care too much about money."

The words of my son, Shane Lewis, hit me like bullets, piercing right through my skull. I stared at him as he played with his limited-edition toy robot. I'd spent three sleepless nights doing freelance design work just to get that for him.

His face, which looked just like Naomi Sullivan's, held a frosty indifference that should never have been found on a five-year-old.

"S-Shane, what are you talking about?"

My throat had tightened. Every word was torture to get out.

"Mommy told me everything," Shane said flatly. "Mommy said that a truly capable man wouldn't constantly talk about money.

"You spend all your time calculating all those expenses. You'd even run two blocks on foot just because of a supermarket discount. And you even got mad at me because I broke a toy."

"I wasn't mad. I was just—"

"Mommy said that's what a petty, low-class man does," Shane interrupted as he coolly repeated Naomi's words. "She said you're fixated on trivial, short-term gains. Your love is both too worthless and too burdensome."

It felt as though something was squeezing my heart, the pain suffocating me.

Every single dollar I scrimped and saved had only been for this family. I gave up all my dignity just to pay off Naomi's massive debts. I'd scalded my arm while working the night shift at the convenience store. I'd even almost collapsed on the road after working dozens of hours straight at the design studio.

But now, Naomi and Shane had reduced all the sacrifices I'd made to me being a petty, low-class man who cared too much about money.

I crouched down to take Shane's hand, but he shoved me away in disgust. "Don't touch my robot. You can't even afford