His Love Was a Test I Could Never Pass

The day I hit six months pregnant, my father was diagnosed with kidney failure.

The doctor said if we wanted to save his life, we needed to come up with $300,000 first.

I clutched the payment slip, hesitating for a long while before I finally dialed Otto Gilbert's number.

"Otto, could you lend me $300,000 for now?"

"My dad's sick. The doctor says it's dangerous to keep putting it off."

There was impatience in Otto's voice.

"Deidre Fox, that family of yours is a bottomless pit."

"Marrying you was already the luckiest thing that ever happened to all of you."

"Don't think that just because you're carrying a baby, you can ask for whatever you want."

I gripped the payment slip tighter, my voice trembling.

"I'll pay you back someday…"

Otto let out a cold laugh.

"You're a housewife sitting at home growing a baby. What exactly are you going to pay me back with?"

"You wanted to marry up and skim my money to prop up your parents' house. Life doesn't work out that nicely."

Then a girl's sugary voice came through from his end of the line.

"Otto, thank you for the collar you bought Lucky. Four hundred grand? That's way too extravagant!"

Otto's tone went soft in an instant. "As long as you like it."

I stood frozen where I was, a bitter ache spreading through my chest.

At the door of the hospital room, my mother grabbed my arm, her eyes red. "Deidre, let it go. Otto works hard for his money too."

My father's voice was hoarse.

"I won't get treatment. Don't bow your head in that family for my sake."

I looked at the gray creeping into their hair, and all at once I felt how horribly wrong I'd been.

They hadn't raised me so I could stand there with a swollen belly, begging.

And certainly not so they'd be humiliated right along with me.

I took the payment slip back and steadied them both.

"Dad, Mom, this illness, we're treating it."

"From now on, we don't beg anyone for anything."

——

When I pushed open the study door with the divorce agreement I'd drawn up, Otto was sitting at the computer with headphones on.

What was on the screen wasn't a work document.

It was a horror movie.

In the little window in the bottom corner, a girl was curled up on a couch hugging a throw pillow, her eyes rimmed red.

The moment I pushed the door open, a scream came from his end of the call.

"Otto!"

He yanked off the headphones at once, and the tenderness on his face vanished completely the instant he saw me.

He frowned, his voice turning cold.

"Deidre, are you never going to let this go?"

"You chased me all the way to the study and interrupted my work over $300,000?"

I stood in the doorway, my fingers curling tighter and tighter.

So this was his work.

He'd said the company was busy, projects piling up, that he didn't want to disturb my rest, which was why he slept in the study so often.

I'd believed him.

I was so afraid of wearing him out that I didn't dare wake him even when my legs cramped in the night.

Afraid of annoying him, I'd brace myself against the wall and make it to the bathroom alone, even when morning sickness left my stomach burning with acid.

But it turned out, all those nights I thought he was up late handling work,

he was watching movies with another woman, soothing her fears, listening to her coo.

Something seemed to lodge in my throat, and it was a long moment before I held out the document in my hand.

"Take a look."

Otto didn't even lift his head.

"Just give the reimbursement slip to Vivien Chavez."

"She'll transfer this month's household allowance to you."

Watching him take it all for granted, I suddenly found it absurd.

I slammed the divorce agreement down on the desk with all my strength and said:

"This is a divorce agreement."

"Otto, we're getting divorced."

"I paid the down payment on this home. I want my share of that money back."

For a moment, Otto's face went blank.

But he quickly lowered his head and said:

"Got it. You can go now."