When my husband begged me for money to save his dying son, I gave him everything I had. I worked overtime and watched my savings disappear. But when I accidentally ran into his ex-wife and asked how the little boy was doing, her confused expression told me everything I needed to know.
When I first met Christopher, I swear he felt like the whole package. He was tall, with an easy-going charm that made you feel like you’d known someone forever, and the way he talked about his son melted me instantly. On our second date, he opened up about his past.
He told me about his ex-wife, and honestly, he painted her as the villain of every story. According to him, she had cheated on him multiple times, never worked a day in her life, and even shared private family matters with strangers just to make him look bad. He’d shake his head and sigh, saying he just couldn’t trust her anymore after everything she’d put him through.
But then his voice would soften when he talked about their little boy, Stuart. “He’s only five,” Christopher would say. “None of this is his fault.
I want to be there for him, no matter what happens between me and his mother.”
That was the part that hooked me. I admired his loyalty and how he separated his feelings for his ex from his love for his son. Even though he claimed he didn’t want contact with her because of all the pain she’d caused, he made sure to emphasize that Stuart always came first in his life.
And I remember thinking to myself that this was the kind of man who would be a wonderful father someday. Fast forward a year, and we were married. For a while, everything seemed perfect.
We had our routines, our inside jokes, our lazy Sunday mornings with coffee and crossword puzzles. I felt like I’d finally found someone I could build a life with. Until one night, about six months into our marriage, Christopher walked through the door looking like the world had just collapsed on his shoulders.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, rubbed his temples the way he did when he was stressed, and told me that Stuart was very sick. He said the treatment was expensive and urgent, that insurance wasn’t covering most of it. “I just don’t have enough right now,” he said.
“He needs this, or I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
My heart broke into a million pieces. How could I say no? He was just an innocent child who didn’t deserve to suffer.
So, I threw myself into helping.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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