Divorce After His Affair

I wiped away my tears, quickly gathered my things, and called a cab straight to the hospital. Throughout the ride, my mind was flooded with memories of my relationship with Waylon George, from the time we fell in love to our eventual marriage.

During our courtship, Waylon introduced me to the idea of going Dutch, insisting it was fair for both of us. At the time, I admired his independence and modern thinking, so I agreed. Throughout our dating phase, whenever we went out to eat, watched movies, or even traveled together, we split everything evenly.

Initially, my parents weren't supportive of my relationship with Waylon. They worried about his humble background and feared I might struggle in the future. Yet, blinded by love, I was determined to be with him. Eventually, my parents relented and approved of our marriage.

When we got married, Waylon insisted on splitting all wedding expenses equally. There was no bridal dowry, and the wedding costs were divided between us. Though my parents were uncomfortable with this arrangement, they agreed for my sake.

After marriage, Waylon stuck firmly to his splitting philosophy. Household expenses, the mortgage, utility bills, and even grocery shopping were split down the middle. I believed that since we were married, we should be understanding and supportive of each other. Besides, Waylon treated me well, and I hoped he would change over time. However, reality hit me hard—he only ever loved himself.

When I arrived at the hospital, I rushed through the halls. "Doctor, how's my mom?" I asked, my voice choked with anxiety.

"Are you the patient's family?" the doctor asked. "She has had a sudden brain hemorrhage, and her condition is critical. She needs immediate surgery."

My hands shook as I signed the papers and handed over all my savings, but we were still short about $5,500. Distraught and desperate, I called Waylon.

"Waylon, my mom's in the hospital and needs surgery immediately. Can you please transfer $5,500?"

"I told you, I'm not covering your mom's medical expenses!"

Just then, the doctor stood in front of me, pressing, "Ma'am, when are you going to make the payment? The patient is in critical condition, and we can't delay any longer."

Almost begging, I pleaded, "Just consider it a loan. Please! My mom needs surgery right away!"

"Sure," he replied indifferently, "but you'll need to write me an IOU."