I didn’t think a divorce could drain a person the way mine did.
Ethan and I had officially divorced not long ago, but it was hell. My ex-husband was fairly wealthy. He owned three restaurants across the city, and even more, he liked holding onto his money.
It was hell.
During the divorce, Ethan argued over every dollar. At one point, he stood in our kitchen, pointing at the microwave and fridge, and said, “I get those because I paid for them!”
By the time it was over, I was exhausted.
***
I work at a pharmacy; long shifts, steady pay. Money was tight, but Olivia and I were getting by. She’s eight, bright, and she never once complained about the changes.
“I paid for them!”
We had a routine. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.
And then everything changed one recent afternoon.
***
I was halfway through my shift when my phone rang.
It was a number I didn’t recognize, but something in my gut told me to pick it up.
“Is this Olivia’s mother?” a man asked.
My stomach dropped. “Yes. What happened?”
“She had a fall while riding her bike. An ambulance is bringing her in now.”
I don’t remember being given the hospital’s name, grabbing my bag, or clocking out.
Then everything changed.
***
By the time I got to the hospital, they’d already taken her in, and her nanny was pacing. I sent the nanny home; she was so traumatized she couldn’t call me after the accident happened.
My focus was on my baby, who looked so small on that bed.
Her face was pale, her leg wrapped, monitors beeping steadily beside her. A doctor stood near the foot of the bed, explaining what had happened.
“She rode over a rock and hit the ground hard before her nanny could do anything. There’s damage that requires surgery. After that, she’ll need extensive therapy to walk normally again.”
My focus was on my baby.
Then came the part that almost made me faint.
The cost.
Even with insurance, it was going to cost thousands of dollars, far more than I had!
I nodded as if I understood everything, but the truth was, my mind had already jumped ahead to one person.
Ethan.
***
I didn’t want to call my ex-husband, but Olivia needed help, and I couldn’t handle it alone.
So I stepped into the hallway, took a breath, and dialed his number.
It was going to cost thousands.
He picked up on the third ring.
“What is it?” he said dismissively.
“It’s Olivia,” I said. “She’s in the hospital. You need to come here; we have to talk.”
There was a pause, then a sigh.
“I’m busy.”
“Ethan. This isn’t optional.”
Another pause.
“Fine. I’ll be there.”
“What is it?”
My ex-husband showed up 40 minutes later. He sauntered in without a single sign of urgency.
“So, what’s going on?”
I explained everything in the waiting room.
And then I got to the point.
“I need your help to cover the costs.”
Ethan laughed out loud! Right there in the hospital.
“Sweetheart, I already have a NEW family now, and I need my money. Pay for the treatment yourself.”
For a second, I thought I’d heard him wrong.
