I Sent My Wife $6,000 a Month,She Let My Parents Starve

1: 1

Three years posted overseas, all to keep the family fed.

My salary was eight thousand a month, and I wired six of it to my wife every month so she could take care of my parents.

Instead, my parents starved until their stomachs ruptured and they ended up in the ER.

I flew home overnight and pulled my wife Vera Dickerson's bank records.

Then I froze where I stood.

Line after line after line, every transfer went to Joachim Kellerman, her old flame.

And every month, all my parents got was thirty dollars in living money.

I called her. She didn't pick up.

She only called back, slow about it, once my parents were out of surgery.

"Hey, honey, I'm helping Joachim find a venue for his art show. I'm about to sign the contract."

"Oh, right, I've been swamped helping him get the show ready over at his place, so I can't come welcome you home. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait. Bye."

Wait?

There was no later for us.

...

"What were you thinking? Two elderly people, and you send them two hundred a month? People on welfare get more than that!"

The doctor couldn't hold it in, laying into me right there in the hospital room.

My mother lifted a trembling hand and dug a wad of crumpled bills out of her pocket.

"Doctor, my son's having a hard time."

"Silly boy. Cheated out of all that money overseas, in debt, can't even keep yourself fed, and you're still thinking about sending us living money. It breaks my heart."

"We saved up the money you sent, and your father and I earned a little too. It's not much, but it's enough to get by on. Take it first."

My father coughed and chimed in.

"Vera was afraid you'd take it hard, being alone overseas, so she kept telling us not to say anything to you. That's you all over, boy, never letting your parents worry, carrying everything yourself since you were little."

I looked at the money pressed into my hand. Ones, fives, dozens of hundreds.

Crumpled, a rotten cabbage leaf stuck to it, wrapped in three layers of plastic bag.

I looked up at their faces.

Weathered eyes, skin gone slack with wrinkles, so thin they hardly looked like themselves.

Three years ago, right after I married Vera, the overseas posting came through.

Vera backed it with both hands then, even promised she'd feed my parents up plump and healthy.

Every video call, Vera would grab my parents' phone and rattle on about where they'd traveled, what tonics they'd been eating, how comfortable their lives were.

When I ran into someone from back home overseas, he said he'd seen my parents picking through trash on the street to sell it, and I laughed and told him no way, my parents were doing great.

The truth landed like a hard slap across my face.

They were scraping by on two hundred dollars that couldn't fill their stomachs, and still saving it, still picking through trash, all to "pay back" my debts.

I pulled out a bank card and pressed it into my parents' hands, forcing myself to look calm.

2: 2

"Dad, Mom, the debt's paid off. Take this money and stop cutting corners on yourselves."

"There's something at the office, so I'll head back. I've hired a caretaker to look after you two."

"One more thing. I want this to be a surprise for Vera, so don't say anything to her yet."

Once they were settled, I hit the gas and drove straight to Joachim's place.

He lived over in the neighboring district.

The moment the car pulled up downstairs, the neighbors chatting outside all turned to look.

"Bet he's here to talk business with the great artist Kellerman again!"

"Joachim's really made something of himself. Three years ago he was still sketching portraits on the street for pocket change, and look how fast he's gone. He's put on several shows already. Haven't you seen his feed? This one's at Bloomcrest Plaza. The venue rental alone runs into the hundreds of thousands. Impressive stuff!"

Bloomcrest Plaza. The most upscale commercial district in all of Bayport.

I took out my phone and called Vera. It wouldn't connect.

I made a fake account and added Joachim under the pretense of buying a painting. He accepted in seconds.

His feed was packed, a new post almost every other day.

One day it was what he and Vera had eaten, the next it was where he and Vera had gone.

The latest post was a stamped receipt for a rental payment, sixty thousand, posted just a few minutes ago.

The caption: The woman I love most supports my dream the most. Love you forever!

Vera called back, an edge of impatience in her voice.

"I already told you I'm busy. What do you want, calling over and over?"

"Vera." I cut her off. "There's something important I need to talk to you about."

A few seconds of silence on the other end, then a half-hearted grunt.

"Fine. It's loud over here, I can't hear you. We'll talk when I'm home tonight."

Right before she hung up, I heard Joachim ask, all fake concern.

"Maybe Clyde really does have something urgent. You should just head back, I'll be okay on my own."

Vera let out a cold snort.

"He's an old man. Three years pent up, it's obviously that kind of thing. Just thinking about it makes me sick!"

Joachim burst out laughing.

"That's easy. Just picture him as me. Back when you two used to do it, wasn't that exactly how you got through it?"

I gripped the phone, my knuckles white.

Five years ago, Vera had just started as an intern at the company, trailing me all day calling me Mr. James, pouring tea and never passing up a chance to learn.

She chased me for a whole year.

I told her, "I'm six years older than you. There's no way this works."

She said, "Older men are more mature, more attractive. I just like you, I look up to you!"

Once we were officially together, she took me to meet Joachim.

Introduced him, breezy as anything, as her old flame, the one that got away.

Right in front of him, she wrapped her arms around my neck and made a promise, dead serious.

"He was just a first love, back when I was too young to know what real feeling was. Now he's my best friend. But you, meeting you is what made me finally understand what real love is!"

Three years of marriage.

She said work wore her out, so I let her quit and took the overseas posting myself.

Every month I handed her my whole salary. Aside from the living allowance for my parents, she could spend the rest however she liked. I never once asked.

And she, with her old flame, hiding behind the word "friend," had made a game of my honest heart, calling me a disgusting old man.

The company called with business that needed handling.

Once I'd finished, I went to see the company's legal counsel.

"George Chavez, draw up two copies of a divorce agreement for me."

3: 3

George stared at me.

"Mr. James, you took the overseas posting so you could earn more, so your wife could have a better life. You went through all of that, and now you're barely home and you want to"

I gave a bitter smile and didn't explain.

Three years away from home, the loneliness, every night I had to get through. Even a casual friend would have checked in on me now and then.

But my wife never asked once. She was off at her old flame's side and couldn't even be bothered to pick up the phone.

"Thanks for the trouble."

I stepped out and went straight home.

Vera didn't get back until the next morning.

She saw me eating breakfast at the table and tossed me a half-eaten box of food.

"Here. That seafood chowder place you love. I went out of my way to get it for you."

She didn't even glance at me, just flopped onto the big bed in the bedroom and started scrolling her phone.

I wiped my mouth, got up, and walked to the bedroom door.

"Where did you stay last night?"

The screen went dark, and Vera's face turned toward me with an irritated frown.

"I was busy way too late. I got a hotel nearby and slept there."

"With Joachim?"

She turned her head and glared at me.

"By myself, obviously."

"Joachim and I are just good friends. How many times have I told you? One trip abroad and your mind's all filthy, you look at everything like it's dirty."

"Don't tell me this is the important thing you wanted to talk about."

I looked at the row of red marks showing along her collar and didn't push it.

"I went to see Mom and Dad yesterday. They didn't look well. I want to find a time to take them to a doctor."

Vera froze for a second, guilt flickering through before she caught it.

"Come on, they're old. A little discomfort is normal at their age. Don't be so sensitive."

"Let's talk about it after the gallery show. There's a big buyer who wants to pay top dollar for one of Joachim's paintings. I'm already run off my feet. Don't add to my headaches."

Funding Joachim's show, running around for him.

Taking my parents to a doctor was blowing things out of proportion. Being sensitive.

I quietly backed out of the bedroom and shut the door. I heard Vera laughing, and I didn't have to wonder who she was talking to.

I went to George again.

"I need one more favor."

...

A week later, Joachim's gallery show.

Vera wore a white strapless evening gown, her arm hooked through Joachim's in his designer suit, the two of them greeting guests at the door.

When she saw me arrive in a suit, her hand dropped without thinking.

"Clyde, what are you doing here?"

I smiled and picked up a glass of champagne by the entrance.

"Came to show support. And to see you."

Vera looked around, then pinched the cuff of my jacket and dragged me into a corner, dropping her voice.

"You gave me attitude the other day and I let it slide, but today is Joachim's big day. Don't say anything stupid. If anyone asks, you're my cousin. We'll talk it all through at home."

"You ruin this show, and it's more than you can pay for!"

4: 4

Joachim trailed after us, smiling as he took Vera's hand and looped it through his arm, his eyes all challenge.

Sorry about this, Clyde. Today, Vera's here as my fiance.

If your heart can't take it, feel free to leave now. I won't hold it against you.

The two of them stayed close, drifting through the gallery arm in arm, laughing with every guest, the picture of a devoted couple.

The lights suddenly dimmed, and Joachim pulled Vera to the center of the room.

Everyone, if I could have a moment. Today is my fiance's and my dating anniversary.

I wanted to give her a big gifttonight's final showpiece.

The lights seemed to swing on purpose and land on me.

Joachim looked at me, smiling Let me introduce him to all of you. This is my fiance's cousin, and soon he'll be my cousin too. Do me a favor and pull back the cover, be the witness to our most important moment!

The cord was shoved into my hand, and the staff egged me on, pushing me forward.

The moment the cloth fell, the room erupted.

So romantic! So thoughtful!

Childhood sweethearts, and then they built each other up as they grew. What kind of fairytale love is this!

It was a hand-painted wedding portrait of Vera and Joachim.

In the painting, on the ring finger of Vera's right hand, sat a diamond ring that stabbed at my eyes.

The lights swung back to Joachim. He shot me a mocking look, reached out and lifted the ring off the canvas, then dropped to one knee.

Vera, you went through so much hardship with me, never leaving, never looking down on me. Now that I've finally made something of myself, will you marry me?

I will!

Vera was already a wreck, undone by the whole thing.

She ran over and threw herself into his arms.

I was knocked aside, straight into the champagne tower beside me.

Wine soaked my suit, and part of my hair went wet. I groped through the dark trying to get up, and my palm drove into shards of glass, a dense, prickling pain.

And my wife, Vera, stood less than ten feet away, kissing another man hungrily.

After the applause, the lights came up.

Joachim looked at the state I was in and couldn't hold back a snort.

Sorry, cousin, I forgot you're getting on in years and your eyes aren't good. Now look at you, drenched like a stray!

Though the way you look right now just gave me new inspiration. I'll paint a piece just for you, and the money from it can be your gift to Vera and me!

He grabbed a camera and shoved the lens in my face. A click, and the flash stabbed at my eyes.

Vera, feeling utterly humiliated, waved the staff over.

My cousin isn't feeling well. Call him a cab and send him home.

A few people hauled me up by the arms. The instant I was on my feet, I wrenched free of them, walked onto the stage, and stood at the microphone.

I pulled the already soaked divorce papers out of my pocket.

My wife's big moment. How could I possibly leave?

Vera, let's get divorced. I wish you well!