Freeloading what? A belly full of stretch marks and a cesarean scar?
I turned back, glaring at Nigel, hoping to see some careness in his eyes, but I found none.
Faced with the list of expenses, I croaked, "Nigel, don't you have any conscience? I just gave birth to your child, and you're asking me for money now?"
I thought Nigel had some sense of decency, but his next words were even more inhumane.
"Julia, the child isn't just mine. Don't act like giving birth is a great achievement.
"Besides, you're the child's mother. You should also be responsible for raising him. So, you must split these expenses with me. You can't expect me to pay for everything while you freeload a child."
At that moment, I couldn't understand why I ever married someone like him.
His pettiness in everyday matters was one thing, but to haggle over the costs of childbirth was another.
Nigel continued to morally condemn me as if I had committed a grave sin.
It was as if not giving him the money meant I deserved to be hit by a car or struck by lightning.
His incessant nagging gave me a headache, and the baby cried louder due to his shouting.
Fine. If he wanted the money so badly, I would give it to him.
Enduring the pain from my unhealed incision, I forced myself out of bed and struggled to the sofa where my wallet was.
Nigel followed me closely, eagerly watching as I threw the money at him.
He didn't care about the humiliating way I handed over the money. He squatted down, excitedly picking up and counting the bills before leaving the room.
Watching his departing back, I quietly wiped away my tears.
Nigel, I will settle this score with you one day.
After getting the money, Nigel disappeared completely.
It wasn't until the fifth day, after the doctor repeatedly urged him to come and handle the discharge paperwork, that he reluctantly showed up at the hospital.
Nigel scowled at the various items scattered around the room.
"I don't get why you made me come. Gas isn't free, you know. Couldn't you just call a cab if you wanted to go home?"
Ignoring his complaints, I prepared to leave.
With Nigel's begrudging assistance, I managed to take the baby home.
Upon entering the apartment, I was almost knocked out by the sight of the mountainous garbage.
The living room was strewn with Nigel's leftover takeout containers and instant noodle cups. His dirty clothes were everywhere on the couch.