Your Generosity Came at My Expense

"Nina, dinner's ready."

I heard Adrian call and hung up before heading downstairs.

I sat down at the dining table and glanced at the food. It was all Jenna's favorite food—rich, greasy, and spicy.

Jenna cried out, "Adrian! You remembered how much I love this food! This Cajun restaurant is far away, isn't it? The delivery fee alone can't be cheap."

Adrian chuckled and handed her a wet wipe. "Your internship has been exhausting. You don't get to eat here often, so of course we should serve what you like."

I looked at Adrian. "I was diagnosed with gallbladder polyps last month. The doctor told me to avoid greasy and spicy foods."

His hand froze for a moment before he reached for another bite. "I'm sorry, Nina. I forgot. There's some leftover oatmeal in the fridge. I'll heat it up for you."

As he busied himself in the kitchen, Jenna sighed. "Nina, you're so lucky. Adrian is always so considerate, both with you and those of us who work under him."

Thoughtful?

Not when it came to me.

He remembered Jenna's casual remark that she hadn't eaten Cajun cuisine in ages and ordered a whole tableful.

I had told him about my gallbladder polyps three times, face-to-face, and he still forgot.

Early in our marriage, Adrian would go from pharmacy to pharmacy looking for medicine for my stomach. Every morning, he'd prepare it and leave it on my nightstand.

Now, even after I told him something three times, he still forgot.

After dinner, Jenna sat in the living room talking to Adrian.

She said the internship had been exhausting and she wanted to see a show that weekend to unwind.

Adrian took out his phone. "I'll buy the tickets. What do you want to see? VIP seats or standard ones?"

Jenna declined with a smile. "VIP seats cost nearly a thousand dollars. That's too expensive. Standard seats are fine."

"If you're going, you should get the best view. You've worked hard. You deserve to treat yourself."

He bought Jenna VIP tickets without hesitation. Yet two weeks earlier, I'd wanted to see a play that cost just 180 dollars. He'd said, "Why do you have to see a play live? Isn't watching a recording at home the same thing?"

After Jenna left, I sat on the couch and checked our credit card statement. Two VIP tickets cost 1,800 dollars.

Today's takeout was 580 dollars. Jenna's birthday a few days earlier had cost 28,000 dollars. In just a few days, Adrian had spent over 30,000 dollars on her.

I stared at the screen for a long time, then opened his budgeting app.

He always used the birthday of someone close to him as his password.

I tried my birthday. Wrong. Then his. Wrong.

Finally, I tried Jenna's.

The app unlocked.