My Ex Used My Credit Card to Marry His Mistress

After the divorce, my ex-husband kept using my supplementary card.

Three months. More than ninety thousand.

I sent him a message reminding him it was time to pay it back.

His mother called and spent twenty minutes cursing me over the phone.

You make all that money, so what's wrong with helping your ex out? If my son hadn't married you back then, would you be where you are today?

My ex chimed in beside her.

"Let's part on good terms. No need to make this ugly."

I hung up.

A week later, my ex said he was having a wedding reception, and the guest list was already sent out.

"You know hotels better than I do. Set it up for me."

I looked at the two-hundred-name guest list and said, "Fine. Put the wedding this Saturday. I'll handle it."

Following his instructions, I upgraded the hall, the drinks, and the wedding suite all to the top tier.

He gave me one order.

"Don't embarrass me this time. Charge everything to my supplementary card, same as always."

After I hung up, I canceled every supplementary card he could still use and revoked the hotel's auto-pay authorization.

Then I messaged the hotel manager.

"The reception goes ahead as planned. Every single charge has to be signed by the groom himself."

...

I forwarded the guest list to Kayla Walker.

Kayla was the hotel manager, and a client I'd worked with for years.

I sent her the chat history.

Roland had written in his messages:

"The hall, the drinks, the wedding suite, all top tier."

And then, right after:

"Charge everything to my supplementary card, same as always."

I typed:

"Add one line to every confirmation slip."

I sent her the wording.

"I acknowledge the price and consent to the charge of my own free will."

I typed:

"And one more."

"Any added dishes, added drinks, or changes to the program later all have to be signed again."

The tasting was Wednesday. Roland came with Rosamond Whitney and Delia Hughes.

The moment Rosamond saw me, her hand shot up, finger pointed.

"Well, ex-daughter-in-law, you finally did something useful. Couldn't keep a man happy, but at least you're good for planning a wedding."

I set the menu down in front of Roland.

Rosamond pulled out a chair and sat.

"My son's getting remarried. Don't go sulking about the divorce. You couldn't hold onto a man, so don't go being jealous of Delia."

Delia picked up the floral portfolio and asked me, "Miss Sullivan, planning your own ex-husband's wedding to me, that can't feel good, can it? Too bad no matter how much it eats at you, he's not coming back."

Roland took over.

"She knows her place. She wouldn't dare make a scene."

I pushed the drinks list to his hand.

"Confirm the budget first."

Delia turned to the floral page.

"Ordinary flowers are too cheap-looking. Switch to imports."

"Is Miss Sullivan too stingy to switch? Won't even spring for this little bit. No wonder Roland divorced you. Living with you, a man has to read your face just to buy a bouquet. He put up with you this long, he more than did right by you."

Rosamond looked at the cake portfolio.

"The cake has to be eight tiers. Delia isn't like certain women who can't be shown in decent company. She gets every bit of the dignity she's owed, all of it."

Delia added another line.

"Change the favors to the gourmet delicacy, and upgrade the boxes too. Miss Sullivan won't grudge us that, will she? After all, getting to plan your own ex-husband's wedding to his new bride, that kind of chance doesn't come around often."

Roland glanced at me.

"Do all of it. She's got no use anymore except crunching numbers."

I pointed at the prices.

"Florals, thirty-eight thousand. Cake, twelve thousand. The gourmet gift boxes, forty-six thousand."

Rosamond slapped the table.

"What are you reciting, an obituary? My son's getting married. You think we're short that kind of money?"

She looked me up and down and gave a cold laugh.

"Right, though, a cheap sort like you, spending a few thousand feels like cutting off your own flesh. No wonder Roland would rather start over than stay married to you."

I handed the confirmation slip to Roland.

"Sign."

Roland picked up the pen.

"Don't kill the mood with money talk. If you still want me back, just say so. No need to fish for attention in front of Delia."

"It's only confirmed once it's signed."

He gave a scornful snort and signed his name after every item.

Delia wanted to add a whole wedding-suite setup on top of it.

Red bedding, dragon-and-phoenix ornaments, custom scent diffusers, all onto the list.

"The suite has to be decorated to feel festive. I want everyone to know Roland finally shook off his bad luck and married a woman who actually deserves him."

Roland frowned.

Rosamond spoke up at once.

"Delia wants it, so you give it to her."

Roland took the pen and signed the additions.

I said, "The open-flame pieces have to be canceled. The hotel doesn't allow them."

Rosamond jabbed a finger at me and snapped.

"Cut the rulebook act. Today is my son's happy occasion. Who are you to be telling us what to do?"

Kayla passed her the policy.

"Improper use of open flame means the hotel shuts down suite service."

Rosamond took the document and turned to stare at Roland.

"Your ex-wife has to police even something this small? Roland, you spoiled her rotten back then. That's why she forgot who she even was."

Roland pushed the slip back into my hand.

"Do it all by the hotel's rules. Don't give her an opening to make a scene."

As he stood, he lowered his voice.

"Don't play the ex-wife card on the wedding day."

"If you dare make things unpleasant for her, I'll make you regret it."

I took the signed slip.

"Don't worry. I only recognize the groom's signature."

He turned back to look at me.

"You agreed to handle it, so you see it through to the end."

"I handle the program. You handle the payment."

I sent the photos of the signed slips to accounting.

The note said only one thing.

"All further charges, only Roland Delgado's signature counts."

Friday afternoon, Roland sent over a string of room numbers.

"Relatives have arrived. Book the rooms for them."

The tone took it for granted, as if I still owed it to his whole family to clean up their messes.

I forwarded him the price list.

"Pick the room types yourself."

He came back with three question marks.

"The front desk knows you. Have them open the rooms first."

"The hotel only accepts confirmation from the person responsible."

He called.

"Lorraine, everyone coming today is family of mine. You're making me go handle the front desk myself?"

"Whoever pays for the rooms is the one who confirms them."

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Then he listed the room types.

"Six executive rooms, four suites."

I had the front desk send him the order.

Once he'd signed, another message came through.

"My cousin wants the lounge booked out for the night. Set up the game room and spa passes too."

I forwarded it to Kayla.

Kayla had the service department itemize the costs.

"Buyout, twenty thousand. Game room, sixteen thousand. Spa passes, eight hundred each."

I sent the list to Roland.

He replied:

"All of it."

I answered:

"Please confirm the groom is responsible for the charges."

He sent back one word.

"Confirmed."

Rosamond followed with a voice message.

"The marital suite needs the full red bedding set, dragon-and-phoenix candles on the nightstand, double-happiness cutouts on the door, and candied dates and peanuts laid out in the room."

I sent over the open-flame policy.

She typed back, cursing me.

"Who do you think you are, throwing rules at me now? Every time you came through my door, wasn't it always my word that counted?"

"You're being asked to help put on a wedding, and that's Roland doing you a favor. You really think a divorce means you get to stand up straight in front of me?"

I didn't argue. I just had the concierge department contact her directly.

But she wouldn't let it go, and fired off another list of demands.

"Send me slippers, ten more sets of makeup remover, and three late-night snacks tonight."

I turned the requests into a service order.

Roland called once he saw the charges.

"You're charging for little things like this too?"

"Late-night snacks, supplies, labor. Everything has a price."

"You never used to nickel-and-dime like this."

"Before, you were my husband. Now you're a client."

Rosamond's voice came through in the background.

"Why waste your breath on her? She's just jealous, isn't she?"

"Roland, the more you fuss over money, the more she thinks she's got you where she wants you. Spend what needs spending. We do not cut corners on this wedding. I want her to see with her own eyes how well you live without her, and I want her to know Delia is walking into a spread she couldn't have earned in this lifetime."

Roland was silent for a moment.

"You heard her. Do all of it."

"And don't think a few bills are going to scare me. Lorraine, the money you make, part of it was always mine to begin with."

I sent one more line.

"Please confirm."

He paused two seconds.

Then he added another line.

"Happy now? Counting money is about all you've got left."

Delia posted photos of the marital suite on her feed.

The caption read: The ones who are cherished don't have to worry about a thing.

Someone asked in the comments:

"Why is the ex-wife still there running around at the venue?"

I didn't reply.

I pulled together three months of supplementary-card charges.

The total came to ninety-seven thousand six hundred forty.

I sent the spreadsheet to my lawyer.

In the middle of the night, Kayla forwarded a voice message.

Rosamond had sent it to the wrong group.

"She's paying this time whether she wants to or not. She's got a company, she's got hotel connections. So what if she covers a wedding for my son?"

Kayla asked:

"Do you want me to let her know she sent it to the wrong chat?"

"No."

I replied in the hotel group.

"Received. Logged."

Roland messaged me privately soon after.

"Don't take what my mom said seriously."

"Lorraine, don't push this too far."

"However harsh my mom is, she's still an elder. If you dare make trouble with that recording, I promise you'll never land a single job in this industry again."

On Saturday morning I saw the welcome board at the hotel entrance.

The head coordinator line had my name on it.

And underneath, someone had added a small line of text on purpose:

"The groom's ex-wife, assisting throughout."

I told the staff to take it down.

The staff member said,

"Mr. Delgado has already confirmed it."

I called Roland.

"Take my name off."

"You're the head coordinator. Putting your name there is perfectly normal."

"I'm not on the wedding staff."

"I'm giving you face. Don't be ungrateful."

"Your face is yours to carry."

I hung up.

Rosamond came over with the cash gift registry.

"You're the sharpest one with numbers. You handle the gift table."

"I don't collect cash gifts."

She slapped the sheet into my hand.

"A woman like you, divorced and still won't clear off. No wonder nobody wants you."

I handed the sheet back to her.

"Your family's cash gifts. Log them yourself."

Rosamond raised her voice.

"Everybody come look at this. My son divorced this woman, and she's still clinging on, shameless."

I aimed my phone at her.

"Keep going. I'm recording."

She shut her mouth at once.

Delia's parents came over.

Leona Hughes asked me,

"Miss Sullivan, is the bride's table count confirmed?"

"Twelve tables. The list is already with the front desk."

Ferdinand Hughes nodded.

"Thank you for the trouble."

I handed him the contract.

"I handle the coordinating. I don't handle the payments."

Ferdinand glanced at Roland.

Roland explained with a smile.

"She's my ex-wife. She never got over me after the divorce. When she heard I was getting married, she insisted on coming to help."

I didn't respond and kept on with what I was doing.

Before the ceremony started, the emcee brought over the program script.

I spotted one line in it.

"Grateful to the one who let me go, so I could find today's happiness."

I asked the emcee,

"Who changed this?"

"Mr. Delgado just handed it to me."

I sent a photo of the script to Roland.

"Delete it."

He wrote back,

"It's for the wedding's effect."

"You don't want to hear it. The guests do."

I called the emcee aside.

"Any program change gets re-signed by the groom."

The emcee handed the confirmation slip to Roland.

Roland looked at me.

"You really have to settle accounts today?"

"You really have to rewrite the script today."

He signed.

Once the emcee took the stage, Roland picked up the microphone.

"A failed marriage taught me to cherish. Today I've finally met the right person."

His eyes settled on me.

Rosamond led the applause.

Delia stepped down from the stage with a glass of wine.

"Lorraine, drink a letting-go toast."

She held the glass out in front of me.

Her friend held up a phone, livestreaming.

"If the ex-wife won't drink, she can't walk away from this today."

I pushed the glass back.

"Unscheduled interaction. There's a fee."

Delia's expression changed.

"You're charging money for this too?"

"No wonder Roland dropped you. A normal woman going to her ex-husband's wedding at least has some shame. But you, it's money every time you open your mouth."

"Emcee script change, unscheduled interaction, livestream camera position. All of it gets a new signed slip."

Roland reached out and took the confirmation slip.

"How much?"

"Eighty-six hundred."

He glanced back at the guests.

"Give it to me."

"Please confirm this is covered by the groom."

He signed his name.

I took the slip back.

"The livestream camera can't film me."

Delia's friend said,

"You sure like to run things."

I had Kayla notify security.

"Delete any footage that involves me."

Roland lowered his voice.

"After today, we're square."

I looked at the pen in his hand.

"After today, you settle today's bill first."

Once the banquet tables filled, Roland's coworkers crowded in to toast him.

Someone praised him.

"A second wedding, and he still throws a spread this big. Mr. Delgado's got real talent."

Roland raised his glass.

"My family's backing me, that's all."

I had a server hand him the drinks upgrade slip.

He pointed at the standard bottles.

"Switch these for the vintage. Every table."

The server read out the price.

"That's an extra twenty-four hundred per table."

Roland took the pen and signed.

"You really have to announce a sum this small? Lorraine, you've been broke so long you think everyone counts pennies like you do."

Delia stepped over to his side.

"The bride's relatives would like to take party favors home. Miss Sullivan won't be too stingy to spring for it just because it's her money, will she?"

Rosamond joined in.

"Add a box of premium seafood for every family. We can't have the in-laws thinking we're cheap."

I handed Roland the gift-box price list.

"Twelve hundred a box, eighteen boxes."

"Add them."

"Please sign."

He glanced at Delia.

"Sign it."

Delia's father asked, "Roland, anything else for the VIP table?"

Roland immediately called a server over.

"Open a VIP hall."

"We'll want tea service, drinks, and staff."

"Arrange all of it."

I passed over the VIP hall list.

"Cigars, tea service, drinks, service charge. Thirty-six thousand total."

Rosamond gave a cold laugh.

"Spelling it out so carefully. Are you afraid we can't afford it, or afraid you'll have to pay a cent yourself?"

Roland signed his name.

His coworker praised him again.

"Nobody could pull off a spread like this. Not even the owner of your ad agency."

He smiled with his glass in hand.

"Enjoy yourselves tonight, everyone."

Kayla set the itemized bill in front of me.

Seven hundred sixty-eight thousand, three hundred.

I checked the accounts.

Thirty-seven signed slips in all.

Every one of them carried Roland's name.

As the banquet broke up, Roland picked up the two cash-gift bags.

He walked to the front desk and pushed the bill across to me.

"Run the supplementary card like always."

"You finish the paperwork."

I didn't touch the bill.

"Settle the hotel first."

Roland laughed.

"Lorraine, drop the act."

"We're divorced. You've really got the nerve to make me pay?"

Rosamond hollered at the guests who hadn't left yet.

"She volunteered to plan my son's wedding."

"Quit playing so noble. Divorced, and she still can't let go of my son."

I took a step back.

Kayla walked up to Roland with finance and legal.

She set the bill down beside the cash-gift bags.

"Mr. Delgado."

"Your wedding banquet came to seven hundred sixty-eight thousand, three hundred."

"The groom is to settle it in full himself."