I begged my husband repeatedly not to use my credit card without first talking to me, but he disregarded me and did as he pleased. Apparently, I had to give him a hard lesson the last time he disobeyed me!
Patrick and I have experienced many obstacles in the six years since we decided to go through life together, but nothing quite like the credit card drama. Since I’m a software engineer and can support our family, Patrick is able to fully appreciate his position as a stay-at-home father to our energetic kids.
Even though this arrangement was satisfying, it unexpectedly put stress on our relationship, especially in relation to money.
Our confidence had started to be undermined by my husband’s unpleasant habit of carelessly using my credit card for both big and minor transactions. In addition to lavishing himself with ostentatious purchases, Patrick also treated his pals like he was spending his own hard-earned cash!
There were times when, upon returning home with a newly acquired item, I pictured my husband as those video rappers, flinging cash around to the joy and excitement of the onlookers!
I realize it’s unrealistic, but at times I thought that’s exactly what he was doing.
The unapproved purchase of an ostentatious gaming chair was the last straw! My resolve was sparked by my husband’s casual response when I confronted him.
I did indeed take your card. With a dismissive shrug, he had responded, “What, you wanted ME to ask?”
To be honest, I was a little offended by his disdainful attitude because I had previously talked to him about my credit card boundaries.
Driven by a combination of frustration and a need to impart a lasting knowledge, I devised a scheme that revolved around his favorite gaming evenings. When I recommended that we host the next one, you could feel the excitement in his voice. He smiled at the news, not understanding my plan, and remarked the following regarding the concept and his new purchase:
“This is going to be amazing, baby! When they see the arrangement, they will go crazy!”
I told him to settle in and I would take care of everything as I had suggested having a game night at our house. I requested him to get food platters, drinks, and snacks for the evening.
I set up the gaming area in the interim, but I purposefully used an old, somewhat uncomfortable chair at the gaming station rather than the new one. In the garage, I also concealed the new chair.
The way things were set up, Patrick was forced to return home with the majority of his gaming buddies. As the evening went on, more and more enthusiastic gamers poured into our living room, and my husband’s joy at getting to show off his new gaming chair was obvious.
The time my husband had been waiting for finally arrived when all of his pals had shown up and settled in.
Please get ready, gentlemen. As he led the group toward the gaming station, he declared, “You’re about to witness the throne of the gods.”
Everyone was confused as soon as they entered my husband’s game room, their excited anticipation melting into confused quiet when they saw the worn-out chair that was waiting for them.
“What the…?” When Patrick turned to face me, his voice broke and his visage showed pure perplexity.
“SURPRISE!” I laughed so hard I could not restrain myself. “We’re kicking it old school tonight!”
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Boisterous laughing burst from Patrick’s pals, who were unable to contain their happiness. A friend of his laughed and said, “That’s one impressive gaming throne, Pat!”
“That elegant chair, huh? I gave it back. Extra money was required to purchase these stunning shoes. You wanted ME to ask, what? My statements reflected his past apathy, only magnified for his audience.
Patrick realized the lesson at hand as his discomfort from the constant teasing increased. We were left alone with the evening’s burden hanging between us as the laughter subsided and our visitors left.
With a tone that was tempered by humility, Patrick shattered the quiet. “I… I did not notice it in your light. “I apologize,” he said, his apology dangling vulnerably in midair.
His remorse opened the door to a candid discussion, the first of many steps toward repairing our relationship. Pat, it’s all about respect. “In everything, we’re partners,” I kindly reminded him.
My spouse never used my credit card without first asking me after that day.
Unexpectedly, months after the event with the gaming chair, Patrick showed me his computer and a project that signaled the beginning of his creative comeback. His passion and effort resulted in a computer game that will undoubtedly impact our family’s future.
“This is for us, folks. For our family,” he said, his voice full of newly discovered meaning. I gave him a gentle kiss and hug after noticing that he had dedicated all of his free time to helping his family. My pride was overflowing as my man had made amends!
Although it started off as a source of amusement and criticism, the gaming chair incident actually served as a catalyst for our relationship’s development. It served as a reminder that the foundation of our common life is communication and empathy.
What about Patrick’s match? It’s evidence of his dedication, a ray of hope for the future we share, and a brand-new journey we take on hand in hand.
Even if the tale above had a wonderful conclusion, here’s another one with a similar theme with a credit card issue:
Jack is so busy with his work that he hardly gets time to relax, much less spend time with his two teenage daughters, Hope and Chloe. His days were a haze of appointments and due dates, and he delegated the parenting to his second wife, Jenna, and the girls’ stepmother.
He offered Jenna a credit card as compensation for his absence, thinking that shopping sprees would make up for the gap his work schedule caused. At twelve, Chloe, the younger, appeared to be doing well, flaunting her new outfits and technology every other day.
However, 14-year-old Hope appeared distant, her hands devoid of the shopping bags her sister proudly displayed. Jack saw it, but he was unable to persuade Hope to talk about it. Then, he got a shocking email one day at work: a 37-minute audio clip that Hope had recorded during a recent shopping excursion.
His heart sank at what he heard. Though the child insisted on getting a bag, Jenna refused, saying they didn’t have the money. As things got worse, Jenna lost it and told Hope to seek her biological father for the bag—a nasty remark that made Jack feel extremely hurt.
When Jack confronted his wife, she attempted to downplay it, saying that Jack had misinterpreted what she had said. He didn’t buy it, though. He loved both of his daughters equally and did not think that Jenna’s harsh remarks or favoritism was appropriate.
He decisively cancelled her credit card, which led to a heated dispute. There was an awkward hush in the home when Jenna stormed off to stay with her sister. As word of the tale spread online, Jack began to question whether he had been too severe.
Though the family was still broken, Jenna stayed in constant contact with Chloe at this time. Jack’s sister-in-law criticized him for being overly strict, but he didn’t back down because he thought he was doing the right thing by standing up for his daughter’s equal treatment rights.
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Husband Routinely Ridicules Jobless Wife for Being Idle, Discovers a Note Following Her Ambulance Departure
A man ridicules his unemployed wife, only to come home one day to find her gone. In her search, he discovers a note revealing she intends to divorce him. Can he stop her from doing so and save their marriage?
It was a bright, cold October morning, and Harry was excited about his gaming app presentation, a project he had poured himself into for the past six months.
As the clock struck eight, Harry entered the dining room, preoccupied with his phone, barely acknowledging his wife, Sara, and their sons, Cody and Sonny.
“Morning, honey,” greeted Sara.
“Good morning, Daddy,” the boys chimed in unison.
Ignoring them, Harry grabbed a toast and rushed back to his room.
“Sara, where’s my white shirt?” Harry’s voice boomed from the room.
“It’s in the wash with the other whites,” Sara replied.
Harry stormed into the dining room. “That’s my lucky shirt! I needed it for today!”
“I didn’t have enough whites for a full load until now. You have other white shirts!!”
“This is a big day for me, and you’re making excuses?” Harry retorted.
“You’re overreacting, Harry. Your presentation is what matters. It’s just a shirt. So stop barking, alright?”
“Oh really? I’m barking? You wanna do this now?”
“Do what, Harry? You’re making a scene for a stupid little thing. And nobody would be interested in what color shirt you’re wearing when all eyes would be fixed on your goddamn presentation.”
“A goddamn presentation? Come again…Did you just say that? Do you have any idea how I’ve been busting my butt off day and night for that project?”
“Watch your words. The kids….”
“You sit at home all day doing nothing,” Harry blurted out. “Is it too hard to remember one simple thing? All you do is Blah Blah Blah and NOTHING at home.”
“Harry, stop this. The kids are watching. You’re scaring them.”
“Oh really? And nobody watches you when you’re on the goddamn phone gossiping all the time with your friends. Nobody watches that, huh, Sara? You can never be a good wife if you can’t do even a simple thing for me!”
Harry dressed up in a random suit and stormed out of the house, grabbing his briefcase.
After a successful presentation and bagging the promotion, Harry anticipated an apology call from Sara – something she always did after their fights. But this time, there were no calls.
Thinking he would win her apology anyway, he returned home with white roses but found the apartment empty. A note from Sara on the table read, “I want a divorce.”
Confused and worried, Harry called Sara’s sister, Zara, who informed him that Sara was in the hospital. Harry rushed to the hospital, only to face an angry Zara. “You told her she was not ‘wife’ enough for you?”
“Look, we’ll talk about this later, alright?”
Harry rushed to meet the doctor. “Doctor, is my wife alright? Can I see her?”
“It was a mild attack. She’s out of danger. But she needs to take care of her health now. Go ahead and only ten minutes coz she needs to rest.”
Harry shakily walked into the ward, trying to force a smile as he approached Sara.
“Honey, I’m sorry. Please, let me explain. I—”
“I don’t wanna hear anything. I’m done. Divorce is the only thing I want.”
“Wha-What? Why…You’re taking it too far, alright?”
“I had ambitions, plans… I chose you over every opportunity, and it ruined my life,” she said. “It’s too late for your
“Honey, please. We can work this together,” he pleaded.
“No, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be fake to myself. To you. And to the kids. I’m 32, but I feel like a crone. I just hate you, Harry. You’re so disgusting.”
“What about the kids, Sara?”
“I’m in a tough spot to provide for them…So they’re staying with you.”
Harry spoke no more and stormed out of the hospital to pick up his kids from Zara’s house.
At home, he ordered pizza and ice cream for dinner. After tucking the kids into bed, he called his friend Alex, who suggested that Sara might have just cracked up and would be home soon.
The next morning, Harry’s kids awoke him, and as soon as he looked at his watch, he knew he was late! In the morning chaos, Harry burnt the French toast and his shirt while juggling the kids’ school preparations.
“Oh, no, the toast,” he exclaimed, rushing to salvage the breakfast.
“Daddy…Daddy, what’s happening?” the kids asked amidst the chaos.
“It’s just the smoke alarm. Don’t worry,” Harry reassured them, but things only got worse.
He had an important meeting, and he was getting late. “I’ll quickly get ready, and let’s grab something nice to eat on the way to school, yeah?”
He dropped the kids off at school and arrived late at the meeting. “Sorry! Traffic, you know….”
When he returned home in the evening, Harry found signs of Sara’s absence more evident. Her belongings were gone. “Did she leave me for real?” he wondered, overwhelmed.
“Daddy, what happened to Mommy’s pictures and her things?” the boys asked.
Harry, clueless, called Zara.
“Is this some kind of a joke, Zara? Your sister came here. Took all her things. And left me? With the kids?”
Zara coldly informed him, “She’d told you, hadn’t she, Harry? You took my sister for granted.” And then the line went blank.
Five months went by without Sara. Harry struggled to balance work and parenting, and his work performance declined.
One day, his boss, Mr. Adams, invited him for a beer. At the pub, Mr. Adams brought up Harry’s recent work issues.
“Harry, we’ve noticed you’ve been missing deadlines and coming in late. And we’re a business…If you know what I mean,” Mr. Adams said.
Harry, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “So, you plan to let your best game developer go?”
Mr. Adams was also Harry’s friend, and Harry could’ve never prepared himself for what happened next.
“I’m afraid, yes,” Mr. Adams replied seriously. “It’s out of my hands. I’ll give you good recommendations.”
“What? Please, don’t do this! I need this job for my kids.”
Mr. Adams remained silent, leading Harry to storm out in frustration. As he walked away, his phone rang. It was Sara.
“Sara?” Harry said, surprised.
“Harry, can we meet for a quick chat at five? At the café where we first…?” Sara asked.
At a café, Sara met with Harry to discuss their children. She revealed she had been in therapy and now wanted custody.
“Custody?? How dare you? After you left us?” Harry fumed.
“Harry, I’m their mother. I have rights,” Sara insisted.
“You abandoned them, and now you want to take them away? They’re used to me now,” Harry argued.
Sara was determined. “I deserve to have them back. I’ll see you in court.”
Days later, Harry, now adept at managing household chores and balancing a new freelance gig, prepared breakfast for his sons.
“Daddy loves you,” he kissed them goodbye and dropped them at school before heading to the custody trial.
“Mr. Wills, can you please tell us about your attention to your family while you lived together with my client, Miss Sara?” Sara’s lawyer asked Harry.
“Well, I did my best to provide for my family. I worked long hours. Overtime sometimes. I kept myself busy because I wanted to make sure they had everything they needed,” Harry said.
“That’s what most responsible family guys do, right?! And what about your wife’s ambitions? Did she want to build her own career?”
“Before we had our kids…Yes, she did want to work. But after that, she stayed home to look after the kids and the household.”
“Well, looking after the kids…the family…cooking, cleaning. So basically, your wife has been your cook. Your children’s nanny. Your wellwisher. And did you insult her, saying she did nothing at home?”
“I did. Yes, it was an outburst. I was late for office and—”
“Mr. Wills, were you fired from your job? Why were you fired exactly?”
“Objection, Your Honor. This is utterly irrelevant and immaterial to the case,” Harry’s lawyer rose.
“Objection overruled.”
“Thank you, Your Honor!” added Sara’s lawyer. “Mr. Wills, why were you fired from your job?”
After a momentous pause, Harry looked into Sara’s teary eyes and opened up. “Because I couldn’t balance my work and parental duties. I tried, but it was too much. But I didn’t give up. I would never give up on my kids. I love them.”
“Mr. Wills, how are you managing now? How do you intend to support your kids…without a job?”
“I have a job. I can support them well.”
“Be specific, Mr. Wills. What job and what’s the salary?”
“It…It’s a part-time freelance gig. I’m a video editor.”
“Mr. Wills, I admire your confidence despite your climbing down the career ladder! I’m sure you make nothing much like you used to in your previous job, right?” the lawyer added ironically. “A freelance job. Low salary. And raising two kids in today’s recession. Well…That’s all, Your Honor.”
Sara was then called up to the box as Harry’s heart started pounding.
“Ms. Sara, can you please tell us about your life with your husband…I mean, soon-to-be ex-husband?” Harry’s lawyer asked. “Did he ever refuse to give you money or care for you in any way?”
“No…Not at all. He was always generous with our finances. We never had any issues with money.”
“Did Mr. Wills ever raise his hands on you or the kids? Has he ever come home drunk and misbehaved at home?”
“No, he never laid a hand on us. My husband. Sorry. Mr. Wills has never come home drunk.”
“Your husband has taken care of you. You even agreed on that. He’s never laid his hands on you. Then why did you leave him and the kids?”
“I had a nervous breakdown. He was always busy. He would come home and sit with his laptop, barely asking me if I was sick…happy…or sad. I tried to cope. But I couldn’t do it anymore and left. I didn’t want my kids to struggle with me as I wasn’t emotionally stable at that time.”
Harry slowly started to break on the inside, and those words hit him like a bag of bricks.
“Ms. Sara, where were you these six months? What were you doing, and how will you care for the kids?”
“I was in Chicago at a friend’s place. I wanted to be away from everything and everyone for a while. Then I moved back to Boston…got a job as an interior designer.”
“What’s the guarantee you won’t have another breakdown and won’t abandon the kids again?” the lawyer broke Sara’s silence.
“Objection, Your Honor. This is baseless and….” Sara’s lawyer chimed in. “My client, Ms. Sara, has come for the children’s custody. Why would she leave them again?”
“Order…Order.”
“I won’t do it ever again. My children are my world. I’ll be there for them and never let anything like that happen again.”
And two hours later, the verdict was announced, and Sara was granted custody of the kids.
“….Mr. Wills, you’ll have the right to visit your children and take them with you two days a week. You’re required to pay $860 as support to your children every month. This case is now closed.”
Soon, the day arrived when the kids would go with Sara. She arrived, sad to separate the kids from their father but happy to have them back. As she was leaving with her two sons, her elder one stopped her.
“You’re just tearing us apart,” spoke Cody as he let go of Sara’s hand and bolted to Harry.
“We want both Mommy and Daddy!” added Sonny.
This was it. Sara could no longer hold herself back. She bolted in their direction and hugged them.
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