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The Scumbag's AA Bill Novel Cover

The Scumbag's AA Bill

Just one day after giving birth, a mother faces an insulting demand from her husband: split every single pregnancy expense down the middle. When she protests, he hides behind the excuse of gender equality to avoid his duties. Disgusted by his audacity, she throws the cash directly in his face. He may have secured the money he so desperately craved, but a dark twist of fate ensures he will never actually get the chance to spend a single cent of it.
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Chapter 1

Petty Scumbag

The day after giving birth, my husband demanded that we split all the expenses incurred during my pregnancy.

I argued back, but he said, "Stop avoiding responsibility. Men and women are equal. Besides, the child isn't just mine, so don't always expect a free ride, okay?"

Disgusted by his words, I threw the money in his face.

But even though he had the money, he might never have a chance to spend it.

——

As I Emerged from the delivery room, the anesthesia wore off, and I awoke from my slumber.

The first thing I saw was my husband, Nigel Judson, sitting by my bedside, staring intently at me.

When Nigel noticed I was awake, he hurriedly dragged his chair closer to me.

I looked at him in confusion as he grabbed a notebook from the table and quickly flipped it open, thrusting it in front of me.

Smiling, Nigel said, "Honey, now that you've given birth, shouldn't we settle the expenses from your pregnancy and delivery?"

I opened my mouth, trying to argue, but could only produce hoarse 'ah' sounds.

The incision on my abdomen throbbed with pain, and the baby's cries reminded me that I had just given birth.

Yet, this shameless man in front of me only cared about the money.

Seeing that I remained silent, Nigel assumed I agreed and began reciting the bills.

"The first blood test, two hundred dollars. The second hospital stay to prevent miscarriages was one thousand and five hundred dollars. Ultrasound, eight hundred dollars. The third prenatal visit, seven hundred... Then there are the baby's clothes, diapers, formula, your cesarean section fee, surgical dressings, postpartum pads, and the hospital stay. Altogether, it's about fifty thousand dollars.

"Of course, I can't expect you to cover it all since I'm the father too. So, to be fair, we should split it fifty-fifty. What do you think?"

Fairness? He was talking to me about fairness?

Who was going to be fair to me for the ten months of pregnancy suffering?

Now that the child was born, he was here to discuss fairness for money.

It was disgusting. Not wanting to look at Nigel's greedy face, I turned my head toward the crib.

My turning away angered Nigel.

He questioned me sharply. "Julia Hornby, what do you mean? You don't intend to freeload, do you?"

The word 'freeload' from his mouth brought tears to my eyes.

I endured ten months of pregnancy and gave birth, only for him to accuse me of freeloading?

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.

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