The Cost of Love
In the third year of our marriage, my husband's first love got a divorce. He gave her the forty-five thousand dollars we had saved for a house because she was left with nothing and struggling to make ends meet.
I urged him to ask for the money back, but he pointed at my face and angrily shouted, "You used to be so gentle and virtuous—what happened? Why are you so selfish, so shallow now?"
"Is forty-five thousand dollars really worth you making a fuss over?"
"Chloe is starting over with nothing, raising a child on her own. Don't you feel any sympathy for her?"
Fine. He was noble, he was merciful.
I did not argue further, because the one who needed money for cancer treatment was him, not me.