The Cost of Love

The day I was supposed to pay for some tests at the hospital, I found out that the 45,000 dollars we had been saving for a house had disappeared from my bank account. That was three years of mine and my husband's hard work, gone.

Panicked, I called my husband, Francis Lewis, right away to see if he knew anything about the missing money.

Francis kept dodging my questions, but after my persistent pressing, he finally spilled the beans.

"Chloe's divorced. She's got nothing to her name, and with a kid to care for, I lent her the cash to get by."

Chloe Blake was his high school sweetheart. She left Francis when he was at his lowest, only to marry a wealthy man.

Every time he spoke about her, I could tell he was still bitter, complaining that she never appreciated how much he cared.

However, since Chloe was single again, Francis sang a different tune.

I let out a heavy sigh and glanced at the medical report in my hand. "Just make sure you get our money back. We'll talk about everything else when you get home tonight.

It was dark by the time I returned home that evening. Francis was on the couch with a bruise on his lip, puffing on a cigarette.

The whole place reeked of smoke.

I scrunched up my nose and asked, "What happened to your lip?"

Francis touched his lip, his eyes darting away. "Took a tumble."

I just nodded, not really buying it, and watched him light up another one. "You know, you really should quit smoking. It's not good for you. Also, did you get the money back?"

He rolled his eyes, lay back on the couch, and said, "I didn't ask for it. Let's just say that forty-five grand was for a good cause."

"What?!"

I dropped my bag on a chair, shaking with rage.

"Francis, you need to get our money back now! We saved that money together, and I'm entitled to my half. You can't just hand it over to her.

"Don't think I can't see what you're up to. Do you really think Chloe's going to come running back to you if you shower her with money?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Look, I'm thinking of what's best for you. That money is—"

I did not even get to finish. He shot up from the couch like I had hit a nerve, pointing right at me and launching into a tirade.

"Brianna Sawyer, you used to be so kind and considerate. What happened to you? How did you get so greedy and self-centered?

"Really? You're going to quibble over just forty-five thousand dollars? Chloe's out there with nothing but her kid, struggling every day. Don't you feel even a little bit sorry for her?"

His words stung, and I could not help but laugh, though I was fuming inside.

"Me? Greedy and self-centered?"

We had met on a blind date.

Back then, he was down on his luck—no job, no house, no car, freshly dumped by Chloe. He was a man with nothing.

However, he seemed honest and hardworking, and with my family's pressure to tie the knot, I said yes.

I was the one who supported him with my modest paycheck when his career was going nowhere.

Then, according to him, I was the one who was greedy and self-centered.

He clammed up, realizing he had crossed a line, and slumped back onto the couch, giving me the frosty shoulder.

That was how he was—never talked things through, never tried to fix anything.

I was so over his lordly attitude.

With a scoff, I laid down the law.

"Francis, listen up—if that cash isn't back in three days, we're done. We'll get divorced, plain and simple," I declared.