My Husband Pays His Ex but Neglects Our ChildChapter 1
After eight years of marriage, my husband's ex posted a picture of a property deed on her social media.
Her caption: 'Choosing a man is choosing your future.'
At first, I was stunned. Then, out of sheer instinct, I left a comment: "It's always better to rely on yourself."
But she deleted it before I had a chance to retrieve it. Not five minutes later, my husband, James, called. I thought he'd ask about what happened.
Instead, he dove straight into yelling. "Lindsay's struggling to pay off her mortgage. It's tough for a woman on her own. What's wrong with me helping her with a loan payment? Don't I have the right to spend my own money? Stop causing trouble for her!"
In the background, I could hear Lindsay sobbing, with people around her murmuring in sympathy. I was stunned, frozen for a second, and James had already hung up and blocked me by the time I snapped out of it.
An hour later, Lindsay posted again. This time, a transfer agreement showed that she now owned 50% of the company's shares.
This was James's way of compensating her. To me, it felt like a deliberate challenge. But this time, I didn't care.
——
When James finally came home that night, I had just thrown away the empty syringe from my pregnancy-preserving shot.
It was our second pregnancy, and at only two months in, I was already displaying symptoms that indicated a potential miscarriage. That morning, I noticed some bleeding and rushed to the hospital. The doctor said if I wanted to keep the baby, I needed to take daily shots right on time.
But I hadn't planned on telling James about the pregnancy. I had planned a nice dinner to celebrate his birthday one last time. He promised he'd come home, but as day turned to night, all I saw was Lindsay's gloating post. After that call, during which he accused me of causing trouble, I numbly got up and threw away the meal I had spent hours preparing.
When James walked in and noticed the empty dining table, he frowned, clearly irritated.
"Did you forget what day it is?"
Of course, I remembered. It was James' birthday.
No matter how busy I was every year, I'd take the day off, make his favorite dishes, and bake a cake from scratch. I never missed it, from my days as a junior employee to now as a senior manager.
But this year was different. This year was the last, and James hadn't even bothered to come home on time.