My Husband Controlled Every Dollar I Spent and Demanded I Save – When I Discovered Where the Money Was Really Going, I Nearly Fainted

Then came the refusals.

“I found a toy car online,” I said before Micah’s birthday. “It’s just like his old one, but an upgrade.”

“Florence,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, “He doesn’t need more stuff. He’s going to be four. He won’t even remember.”

I nodded. I didn’t argue.

When Nicole’s coat became too tight, I waited for a sale and showed him the listing.

“She’ll be fine with layers,” he replied. “No need to waste money on something she’s going to outgrow anyway.”

Eventually, I stopped asking.

Then the debit card vanished.

“I’ll hang onto it,” he said casually over breakfast. “It’s easier for… tracking.”

“Tracking what? I haven’t bought anything but groceries in weeks.”

“You can always ask me for what you need.”

“Like I’m 12 and asking for permission to buy bread? Are you being serious?”

He looked up from his coffee. “Don’t be dramatic, Florence. It’s not a good look on you.”

But that was the thing—I was already living inside the drama. The kind you don’t recognize until your world has shrunk around you.

After that, Michael insisted on coming grocery shopping with me. He watched what I put in the cart like I was stealing from my own pantry.