My Husband Pays His Ex but Neglects Our Child

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.

Without looking at him, I scrolled through Lindsay's old posts. It hit me then that since she started working as James's secretary. She had been flaunting gifts from him. In just a year, she had received more than I had in eight years of marriage.

A sarcastic smile crept across my face. "Spent nearly a million on her, and she still couldn't treat you to dinner?"

James didn't see that coming, and his impatience flared. "What's wrong with you? Those were year-end bonuses. Secretaries work hard, so I gave her more. What's the big deal? Don't you understand management? Isn't that part of your job?"

"Oh, and do you also give your regular employees shares and river-view mansions? You're a pretty generous boss. Maybe I should quit my job and come work for you."

His face darkened just as his phone chimed with a new message. Glancing at the screen, his expression softened, and a smile tugged at his lips. I didn't need to ask.

It was Lindsay.

When he looked back at me, the anger was gone. "I've explained everything. And I didn't even get upset about your comment on her post. If I had something going on with her, do you think I'd be here tonight? What am I, a masochist who enjoys your cold stares?"

I ignored him and walked to the kitchen. Of course, he thought I felt guilty and was about to make dinner to smooth things over.

"Forget it," he sighed. "Don't bother cooking this late. I'll grab something from the cake shop. Can you imagine celebrating my birthday like this, dealing with your moods? What did I do to deserve this?"

As James spoke, I exited the kitchen, holding a trash bag. When he saw me heading for the door, he froze.

Turning to me with a wary look, he snapped, "I'm just going to buy a cake. Why are you following me? What do you think I'm going to do in an hour? You're losing it. Why don't you just put a surveillance camera on me while you're at it?"

I understood why James was angry. In the past, whenever he came home late from work or some social event, I'd ask him to share his location so I wouldn't worry. I decided to give James a ride if he drank too much. But he took it the wrong way every time, accusing me of being controlling. This time, though, I didn't bother calling him out on his lie about the cake. I knew he didn't even like sweets.

Instead, I just lifted the trash bag in my hand and gave it a little shake. "Don't overthink it. I'm just taking out the trash."

Maybe it was the string of misunderstandings finally catching up with him, but his tone softened as if offering a truce. "After you throw the garbage, let's grab something to eat. That barbecue spot is pretty good."

Thinking this might be our last dinner together, I nodded.

Twenty minutes later, James dropped me off on the side of the road in front of a rundown barbecue stall. Before I could even look around, he floored it, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. The dirt splashed right onto my face. I quickly covered my eyes and turned away, realizing the stall wasn't open tonight.

Nearby, two other food stands cluttered with greasy tables caught my eye. Shirtless, middle-aged men with bloated bellies sat around, casting lecherous glances my way. I hadn't realized how quickly I'd rushed out. I was still in my nightgown. Then, I found myself huddled on the steps by the road, feeling vulnerable and alone.

It was nearly midnight.

This deserted alley wasn't exactly buzzing with available taxis. I felt a cold sweat starting to form. Just as I was about to reach for my phone to call the police, a drunk man staggered toward me, swaying with a beer bottle in hand.

I noticed a wedding ring on his finger as he slurred, "Hey girl, how about a drink? Out here alone this late? Two hundred bucks, come with me."

My face went cold as I stepped back. "Get lost! Stay the hell away from me!"

Fueled by the alcohol, he got angry, lunging at me and smashing the beer bottle on the ground. Luckily, the noise caught the attention of a passing car. The driver stopped and offered to take me home. I couldn't stop shaking from fear the whole ride back.

As soon as I got home, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I downed a glass of hot water, trying to calm myself, just as James stormed in, slamming the door. "How could you come back without telling me? I circled that alley a dozen times, scared out of my mind that something had happened to you! I almost called the cops! Do you think this is some kind of game?"

I froze, gripping the glass tightly, my expression going cold. If James had been looking for me, he would've seen that the barbecue stall was closed.

Clutching my stomach, I shot back with a mocking smile. "Worried about me? You left me in a place like that. Were you scared something might happen to me, or scared nothing would?"

"And you expect me to tell you? I tried, but I guess I'm still blocked, so that was impossible, wasn't it?"

God knew how often I'd tried calling him while stranded, rehearsing my last words in case something went wrong.

His lips pressed into a thin line, realizing his mistake.

Frustrated, he threw the cake he had brought down on the table. "Kindness wasted!"

James stormed off to the bathroom, and I could faintly hear him laughing as if he were finding the whole situation ridiculous.

The pain in my abdomen became unbearable, and I collapsed onto the sofa, my face turning pale. I glanced over at the cake he'd thrown. A piece was already missing. With shaking hands, I opened Lindsay's latest post on social media. In the picture, two shadows were reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows of a river-view mansion. A strawberry cake with a single candle sat in the corner.

Her caption read: 'For every birthday from now on, we'll be by each other's side. The ultimate expression of love is in the ritual.'

I fought back tears, trying to stay calm for the sake of pregnancy. I couldn't cry, not now. Gripping the sofa for support, I threw the cake into the trash.

James came out of the bathroom just in time to see what I had done, his face darkening with anger. "What's your problem now? You're the one always going on about 'rituals'! I drove across half the city to get you that cake, and you just toss it away?"

"I've explained this a hundred times, and you're still not satisfied? All I did was give an employee a house as a reward. Are you ever going to let this go? Have I ever brought up how you insulted her? Since I got home, you've treated me like crap. First, you ditch dinner, and now the cake! What do you think I am? Made of patience?"

I closed my eyes, too frustrated to even look at him anymore. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. You're right, it's your money, and you can spend it however you want. I'm not as free as Lindsay is! I've got my work—"

Before I could finish, he cut me off, shouting, "Enough! You say this every time. Ever since Lindsay joined the company, you've been acting crazy every day! No wonder the baby didn't make it. With a mother and a family like this, it's a blessing he wasn't born!"

Before I could register his words, my hand flew up and slapped him across the face.

I screamed at my husband, "Don't you dare talk to me about the child! Having a father like you would be his misfortune!"

Without waiting for a response, I spun around and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. A second later, I heard James outside, yelling in frustration. Eventually, the shouting faded, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

When Lindsay joined the company, things had changed between us. My sense of security vanished, replaced by suspicion and anxiety. I found myself constantly wondering if he still loved me. At one point, I even considered having a child just to keep him tied to me. But when I first showed him the positive pregnancy test, I'll never forget the furious, twisted look on his face.

He had been texting Lindsay then, and in a split second, he smashed his phone against the table, shattering the screen. "The company's expanding, and money is tight. I can't afford a kid right now. Just get rid of it."

I was shocked, angry, and heartbroken, but I stood my ground and refused. Not long after, James invited me to a business event. We hadn't gone anywhere together in two years, so I assumed it was work-related and agreed with little thought.

But when I found myself surrounded by a group of greasy, middle-aged men raising their glasses toward me, I realized what was happening. I glanced at him, hoping for help, but he was too busy bragging about how much I could drink.

Forced to down glass after glass, my tears mixed with the liquor. An hour later, I collapsed to the ground, my skirt soaked in blood. Only then did James finally take me to the hospital, but it was too late. The baby was gone.

That's why I hadn't told him about this pregnancy.

If he hadn't used the excuse of being too broke to raise a child back then, maybe I wouldn't have been so triggered by his actions of giving away houses and company shares like they were nothing. Looking back, he probably had plans for that money all along. Our child's existence disrupted his pursuit of his 'true love,' and that's why he was so angry.

Seeing Lindsay's latest post on social media confirmed what I already knew. This marriage was over.

When I woke up the following day, James was already gone. I called a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up. While preparing to send them to his office, I saw a celebratory video on their corporate account.

Lindsay was promoted to company shareholder, holding the same title as James. She was no longer just a secretary.

She now held an executive position.

In the video, they hold champagne glasses, toasting each other as employees cheer them on. James's wedding ring was replaced by a more delicate one that matches Lindsay's—a new model from this year's collection.

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

I remember when we got married, his company was just starting out. I only asked for the cheapest ring at the store to ease his financial burden. He was moved to tears and promised to buy me the most expensive ring when he made more money.

Eight years later, the ring he promised me ended on another woman's finger. Just as I finished sending the divorce papers, James called.

"I'll pick you up tonight. The company is having a team-building event. Lindsay said she wants to clear up any misunderstandings between you two."

Before I could respond, he hung up. I didn't expect him to unblock me right before the divorce, and I wasn't sure whether to feel amused or heartbroken. A mocking smile crept onto my lips.

'A misunderstanding? Is she here to explain or to show off?' I thought.

But at that point, I didn't care anymore. After finalizing the divorce agreement, I went to the hospital for a check-up. The doctor prescribed more medication and warned me that my condition was worse than before. He stressed that I needed to keep my emotions in check, as any stress could affect the baby.

Taking his advice seriously, I picked up my medication and went home. I started looking for a new place to live, knowing I couldn't stay in this toxic environment. It wasn't safe for me or for the baby. After searching all day, I found a place and paid the deposit. I gave myself the prescribed injection, and just as I started packing, I got a notification that James's car had pulled up downstairs.

I went down in my pajamas, thinking we could talk seriously.

But the moment he saw me, his face twisted in disgust. "You're going out like that? Can you stop embarrassing me? People will think I can't even afford to buy you makeup!"

Sitting in the passenger seat with her perfect makeup, Lindsay giggled and opened the door. Standing next to her, I felt even more worn out and drained.

Before I could respond, she smiled brightly and nudged me into the backseat. "Oh, Shannon, no need to get all dressed up! You're already beautiful enough! Besides, do you think James would even let you leave the house if you got all dolled up?"

The door shut behind me, and she casually slid back into the front seat. They chatted non-stop during the drive while I sat in the back, feeling like a complete outsider. In our eight years of marriage, I had never seen James this eager to share anything with me. At that moment, I clearly felt the difference between being loved and not being loved.

When the car finally stopped, I was shocked to see that the team-building event was being held at the same barbecue stall where I had almost been assaulted the other night. The owner was open for business this time, and the tables outside were packed with company employees. When they saw James step out with Lindsay, they rushed to greet the two, calling them 'Mr. Carter' and 'Miss Thompson' while the employees ushered them to the center of attention.

I scanned the area and noticed only one seat left in the corner.

At that moment, Lindsay playfully smacked her forehead and stuck out her tongue as if she had just remembered something. "Oh no! I totally forgot about Shannon's seat! Can someone make some room—?"

Before I could say a word, James had already spoken for me, turning down her offer. "There's no need. I'll just sit here. It's just dinner."

I didn't argue. I walked straight to the corner seat. The table was full of new hires, none of whom knew who I was. James didn't bother introducing me, so no one tried to talk to me. I was grateful for the quiet. It wasn't until I overheard a conversation that I realized Lindsay had suggested this place. She was reminiscing about how she and James came here often in school.

I only took a few bites when a familiar voice sounded in my ear. "Well, well, isn't this the girl who wouldn't take my offer that night? Back again tonight to look for clients? How about $500 bucks this time? Deal?"

Goosebumps prickled over my skin as soon as I heard the voice. James glanced my way, his expression darkening, but he didn't budge. It was my male colleagues who stepped in to handle the situation.

Meanwhile, James just raised his glass with a cold, condescending smile. "No wonder I couldn't find you that night. Looks like you were busy with your 'business.'"

I froze in shock, my face flushing with anger and humiliation. I stood abruptly, ready to leave. But Lindsay rushed over, blocking my path.

"It's all my fault," she said, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. "I shouldn't have picked this place. I'm so sorry! Tonight was supposed to clear up misunderstandings, and now I've made it worse. I'll punish myself. I'll drink."

Before I could respond, she grabbed a bottle and downed it. The diamond on her finger caught the light, sharp and blinding. Only then did James finally move.

He walked over, his voice laced with irritation. "Lindsay already apologized. What more do you want? Just let it go and stop making a scene."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, so she apologizes, and I'm supposed to just forgive her? Is that how it works now?"

James's frustration boiled over. His brows furrowed as he snapped back. "She already drank for you, and you're still going on about this? Even if you're mad, there's a limit!" He shoved a bottle of alcohol into my hand, the message clear.

I pressed my lips together, my fury threatening to spill over. But I kept my voice ice cold. "I can't drink. I've got somewhere else to be, so I'm leaving."

Before I could walk away, James grabbed me by the neck, his grip tight. "Shannon, have I been too nice to you? Lindsay drank an entire bottle for you, and you're just going to walk out?"

He yanked me hard, slamming me against his chest. He pried the bottle open and forced it toward my mouth. The liquor poured down my chin, soaking my clothes as I choked and coughed, clutching my stomach in pain.

He tossed the empty bottle to the ground, still fuming. "Don't be ungrateful!"

Tears welled in my eyes, not from sadness but from the physical strain.

His angry, threatening words kept coming. "Apologize to Lindsay, or we're getting divorced! I'm done with this!"

Everyone around us expected me to explode, to lose control. But I didn't. I composed myself, even as my face burned with humiliation. I nodded calmly. "Fine, then. Let's get divorced."

I took two steps, but Lindsay grabbed my arm, panic creeping into her voice. "Don't be impulsive! Divorce isn't a small thing. You shouldn't do this because of me—"

"Get lost!" I yanked my arm free, sending her stumbling backward.

James snapped, his fury exploding. He grabbed an empty bottle from the table and hurled it at the back of my head.

The next moment, I collapsed. Crimson blood pooled beneath my nightgown, soaking the floor.