His Secretary Denied My Checkup, So I Changed My Baby's Dad

My husband likes to save money.

Six months ago, he paid fifty grand a month to hire a young secretary named Cindy Farley, who came with the title of money-management expert.

From that day on, every dollar I spent had to be approved.

A hundred-dollar set of pajamas. Denied.

The reason: I already had pajamas, and buying more was wasteful extravagance.

Two hundred dollars of cold medicine. Denied.

"A box of cold medicine is eight bucks. Can't you save your boss a little money?"

Even pregnant, my fifty-dollar request for a prenatal checkup

was turned down by that same little secretary.

"Tessa, whose kid needs two checkups a month? Mr. Matthews said using checkups as an excuse to squeeze out cash isn't acceptable."

The nurse kept pressing me to pay.

In the end I had to borrow from strangers all around me just to cover the bill.

On the way back from the hospital, big belly and all, I asked my husband for ten dollars for a cab.

On the other end, the secretary answered for him in seconds.

"Take the bus. If you take a cab, cab fare can't be reimbursed."

All at once I felt so tired. I dialed a number.

"Didn't you want to be my baby's godfather?"

"A stepdad. The kind written into the same household record. You want the job?"

"Of course I do!"

The voice on the other end was almost giddy.

"Don't tell me all my praying finally paid off. Heaven's finally looking out for you, and you've come to your senses."

"You're finally kicking that penny-pinching man to the curb?"

I sighed.

"It's enough that you said yes."

"Oh, and can you lend me ten dollars? For a cab."

Quinn Sanchez went quiet for a moment.

"You don't even have ten dollars in your pocket?"

"I don't."

I hung my head and sighed.

There was fifty-two cents left in my account. Not even enough for a roll.

Before I got married, I made a hundred grand a month.

A five-thousand-dollar Chanel bag without blinking. A thousand-dollar bracelet whenever I felt like it.

But after marrying Dean Matthews, after the wedding and the pregnancy,

I turned into Dean Matthews's personal asset too.

Not just the company accounts. Even the household assets he handed over entirely to his little secretary, Cindy Farley, to manage.

From then on, every cent I spent had to be approved by Cindy.

Five hundred dollars of clothes. Rejected.

Two hundred dollars of cold medicine. Also denied.

Worse than that, even the fifty-dollar checkup fee was something I had to scrape together myself.

And now I couldn't even cover ten dollars of cab fare.

"Dean Matthews is a complete bastard!"

Quinn cursed under his breath.

"Send me your address."

"Stay right there. I'll come get you now."

I shook my head. "Don't go to the trouble. Just transfer me the money and I can grab a cab."

The moment the message went out, two thousand dollars landed in my account.

"Spend it however you want. Don't shortchange yourself."

My eyes went damp.

My husband of three years cared about me less than a childhood friend I hadn't talked to in six months.

"Thank you."

Afraid he'd hear my voice catch, I thanked him and hung up.

I stood at the curb with my big belly, getting ready to hail a cab.

Then a black car pulled up in front of me, and the window rolled down.

Behind it was my husband, Dean Matthews.

"Tessa Winfield, what are you doing standing here?"

I looked at Cindy Farley in the passenger seat, all dolled up. "Waiting for a ride."

Cindy, in the middle of touching up her makeup, frowned when she heard that.

"Tessa, why are you out here trying to catch a cab again?"

"Didn't I tell you? Your budget for the month only covers the bus."

"So spoiled. You've got a baby in there. Careful, all this wastefulness will end up raising the kid wrong."

I clenched my fists. "Cindy, I'm pregnant."

I'd just let three cabs go by. The second the drivers saw I was pregnant, they refused to take me.

"What if something happens to you and you pin it on me? I don't take pregnant women."

But hearing all that, Dean only spoke in an offhand tone.

"So you're pregnant. So what?"

"There are plenty of pregnant women in this world. Nobody else makes such a fuss about it."

"You think you're special?"

All I could do was fire back coldly, "Other women have husbands to pick them up. What about me?"

My husband spent every day using work as an excuse, busy eating, drinking, and playing around with his little secretary.

Right then, Cindy spoke up in that fake, sugary tone.

"Tessa, I'm really not trying to give you a hard time."

"Scientifically speaking, it's good for a pregnant woman to walk around more."

"Besides, we live in a society of laws now. The bus isn't as miserable as you think."

If I'd had a glass of juice in my hand right then, I would have thrown it in her face.

If I'd had a stick, I would have swung it straight at her forehead without a second thought.

But I had nothing.

And I was a pregnant woman who could barely move.

All I could do was clench my fists until my nails dug into my palms.

Ten dollars. That was all.

An amount I once wouldn't have glanced at twice, and now I had to beg someone for it.

And my husband's eyes were already flat with impatience.

"Tessa, stop standing there. The bus stop's two hundred yards up ahead."

"Keep dawdling and you'll have to wait for the next one."

Cindy chimed in, sweet as sugar.

"Tessa, if your bus card's out of money, I can put in a request for a five-dollar top-up for you."

Five dollars.

She had the nerve to hand that out like charity.

"I don't need either of you."

I stepped back and waved down the next cab coming toward me.

Cindy leaned back against the car, smug all over her face.

"Tessa, I'm just giving you a friendly heads-up."

"You've already gone over your approved living allowance for the month. If you take a cab now, you'll be borrowing against next month."

I ignored her. Behind me came the sound of Dean and Cindy laughing together.

"Cindy, hiring you at fifty grand a month to manage my assets really was worth every penny. What do you want for dinner tonight? My treat."

"CEO Matthews, I'd love French tonight."

Dean didn't hesitate. "Sure. Book it. That three-star Michelin place from last time."

Cindy shot me a sidelong glance.

"Isn't that too extravagant?"

"That place runs over two thousand a head..."

Dean rolled up the window, smiling. "You're worth it."

A cloud of exhaust, and Dean hit the gas, the car peeling away.

But those words kept echoing in my head. "You're worth it."

The cold seeped through me, all the way into the marrow.

The last time Dean took me for French dinner was a year ago.

Three months ago, the pregnancy made my appetite picky.

I said I wanted French food, and Dean told me,

"That falls under living expenses. Go request it from Secretary Farley."

"If she approves it, I'll take you."

But the second he said it, I'd already given up hope.

Sure enough, the moment Cindy heard I wanted French food,

her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Tessa, do you have any idea how tight things are for the company right now, how carefully CEO Matthews watches every dollar?"

"You're the only one in this family throwing money around. One French dinner is two thousand dollars. That's half a month's living allowance gone."

"So you can eat one meal, you're just not going to live for the rest of the month?"

All I wanted was a meal, and I got chewed out by a junior secretary until I had nothing left.

In the end I was the one who caved.

But Cindy had tasted victory, and after that she only got worse.

She squeezed my living expenses in ways that bordered on cruel.

She wouldn't even approve a ten-dollar cab fare.

Not that I needed it from them anymore.

After the fifth cab driver refused me,

it wasn't long before an expensive black car pulled up in front of me.

"You... you actually came."

Quinn got out, his face dark. He'd come to get me after all.

Once I was in the car, he carefully adjusted my seatbelt for me, then just sat there in silence. He didn't drive. He didn't speak.

I wanted to break the awkwardness, so I reached for something to say.

"Didn't you say you had a meeting today and couldn't get away?"

Silence.

"Ha, it's been half a year, and then I suddenly call you to borrow money. It's kind of embarrassing..."

Still silent.

"Look how nice the weather is out there. There's even a stray dog over there."

Quinn still said nothing.

"Not going to talk to me? Fine, then I'm getting out."

I made a show of reaching for the seatbelt, and only then did I hear the catch in Quinn's voice.

"Tessa Winfield, look at what you've done to yourself."

"I told you not to marry that piece of trash, and you wouldn't listen. You acted like I was the one out to hurt you."

His voice came fast and furious.

"Marry a man like that, and see where it got you."

I froze, and only then did I see his eyes had already gone red.

"You used to buy new clothes every month. You looked so sharp, so stylish. Now look at what you're wearing. It's washed out until it's gray."

"And your phone. The screen's cracked into a spiderweb. Why haven't you replaced it yet?"

"Back then you insisted on marrying him. I thought you were living the good life as some rich man's wife. I never imagined you wouldn't even have ten dollars for a cab..."

I listened quietly to him lay into me.

It was true. Back then, as the boy who'd grown up beside me,

the moment he heard I was going to marry Dean,

his face went black with anger.

I thought at the time it was sour grapes.

So I snapped back at him.

"So marrying you is the only right choice?"

"I know you like me, but you're not mature enough. You're not my type."

"Dean's a little frugal, sure, but it's for a stable life. It's for our good."

"I believe choosing him won't be a mistake."

But it wasn't long before that blew up in my face.

After we married, Dean was unbelievably tight with money.

No more fresh-squeezed juice for me, no new phone every six months.

Even buying new clothes with my own money became something I did carefully.

Because every time a package arrived, Dean would frown.

"Honey, you've only got one body. How many outfits can you possibly wear?"

"Cut back a little."

"There's more than one place that money needs to go, after all."

Back then I made a hundred grand a month, earning it on my own ability.

I'd never once come up short financially.

Thinking it over, I decided he had a point.

But once Cindy showed up, my situation got more and more miserable, like a knife hanging over my head.

Now, though, I didn't want Dean anymore. Even if I walked away with nothing, I was getting a divorce.

"Don't be upset. See, I know I was wrong, and I'm going to fix it."

I patted Quinn to comfort him.

"Give me three days. I'll take care of everything on my end, and then I'll register the marriage with you."

"Okay?"

Quinn broke into a smile through his tears. "My only complaint is that three days feels too long."

On the way, I said I wanted to get rid of the baby.

But Quinn said, "I hear an abortion is hard on your body. Maybe don't. I like kids anyway."

I was a little surprised. "You don't mind that it's Dean's baby?"

Quinn's face was completely sincere. "What does another man have to do with anything?"

"All I know is that it's your baby."

"Tessa, I don't want to do a single thing that's bad for you."

I looked at him in silence for a long moment, then smiled.

"All right. Give me three days. I'll settle everything here."

"And then I'll come to you, with the baby."

Dean took me out for a nice meal, bought me new clothes, and sent me home loaded down with bags.

When he saw that Quinn had dropped me off,

Dean's face went dark from a distance.

"Didn't I tell you to take the bus back?"

"But no. You went off to seduce a man. Your old flame, no less."

I frowned.

"Can you not talk so ugly?"

Everyone knew Quinn had once chased after me, Dean included.

Back then Dean was poor and had nothing, and he'd nearly lost me to Quinn.

It was my choosing him that made Quinn step aside.

But after that, Dean was always on guard against Quinn.

He looked at him the way you'd look at a mortal enemy.

"You think I don't know what's on his mind with you?"

"We're both men."

"One look at you and I can tell what he's scheming."

"Stay away from him from now on."

I lifted my head and gave Dean a cold smile.

"He's willing to drive me home for free."

"A cab costs me ten bucks."

"That money, are you going to give it to me?"

Everything I had on me came to three dollars and twenty cents.

Dean frowned coldly. "I've told you, if you need money, apply to Cindy for it. You're Mrs. Matthews. Do you really think I'd shortchange my own wife?"

I laughed without a sound. That line again.

Cindy was always blocking me over every little thing, and every time I told Dean, he never believed me.

"Cindy's a professional money-management expert. Why would she ever do that?"

"What reason would she have to single you out and make things hard for you?"

Since he never believed a single explanation, I couldn't be bothered to say it anymore.

Carrying my shopping bags, I turned and headed inside.

But a syrupy voice drifted out from within.

"My big-shot CEO, is dinner ready yet?"

I froze.

Cindy was wearing my slippers and my pajamas, lounging against the couch watching a show.

Seeing me come in, she scrambled to her feet.

"Tessa, don't get the wrong idea. My clothes got soaked with coffee just now, so I only borrowed your pajamas for a bit."

I turned my head coldly and looked at Dean, who had followed me in.

"What's going on? Weren't the two of you supposed to be out at that Michelin restaurant?"

"Why is she wearing my pajamas, using my tablet, sitting there like she's the lady of the house?"

Quinn frowned and caught my wrist.

"Tessa, stop making trouble."

"Cindy got her period out of nowhere and ruined her clothes, so she couldn't make it to the Michelin place."

"That's why I came back to cook for her myself, to fix her something to eat."

When a person is truly speechless, they really do laugh out loud.

"Dean Matthews. You're the boss, cooking for your secretary."

"And her period, that's a private thing. How did she even feel comfortable telling you about it?"

I was six months pregnant, and I'd wanted to eat something Dean cooked with his own hands.

Instead, Cindy blocked the money for my groceries.

Said the allowance was over the limit, that I could apply again next month.

When I got my period, Dean thought even buying me a pack of pads was too much trouble.

And on top of that, his germophobia.

That whole week he'd insist on sleeping in a separate room.

Yet now he was willing to lower himself, to cook for his little secretary.

"Tessa, pregnant women really can get short-tempered. Why don't you go rest for a while first? I'll call you when the food's ready."

Cindy, of all people, had taken on the airs of the lady of the house.

"Besides, I only came to your home for work. Don't read too much into it."

I'd had my fill of being angry. I grabbed the shopping bags and went straight back to the bedroom.

The clothes worth keeping went into the suitcase.

I took down the wedding photos.

And that whole stack of love letters Dean had written me back then went straight into the trash.

By the time I'd finished all that and came out to pour myself a glass of water, the two of them were already eating.

No one had called me.

Steaming dishes sat in front of Cindy.

Dean pulled a gift box out of his pocket.

"You've worked hard lately. Here, a gift from your boss."

Cindy took it, thrilled.

"Wow, isn't this the necklace I saw at the counter a few days ago?"

"This one's worth five million. And you're just giving it to me, like that."

Dean lifted his glass with a light smile.

"Of course. After all, the money you've saved me lately is worth more than this."

Cindy stood up happily. "Would you mind putting it on for me, Mr. Matthews?"

Dean gave her a doting smile and, sure enough, got to his feet.

I let the sarcasm fly.

"Don't you love saving money?"

"Dean Matthews, why are you so generous with your little secretary?"

"Five million, handed over just like that. So your money-saving rules only ever applied to me."

Dean frowned.

"Tessa, you're pregnant, you don't earn a single cent, and yet here you are trying to manage me."

He said it was a bonus and a gift for her.

Because of her money management.

Because she'd saved him so much.

He laid out a whole justified speech.

Right. No matter how they spent, there was always a reason for it.

But when I spent, it was waste.

"Tessa, you don't earn money, so you don't know how expensive daily life is."

"You used to throw money around far too carelessly."

"Now that Cindy helps manage your finances and cuts out the unnecessary spending and waste, that's a good thing."

Cindy. He said it so intimately.

Without either of us noticing, the two of them spent more time together, day and night, than I did as his wife.

"Since she's so good with money, then just divorce me and live with her."

I lifted my head and spoke with a sneer.

"And another thing, Dean Matthews. Is today the first day you've known me?"

"You knew exactly how wasteful I was, so why did you marry me in the first place?"

My words caught in his throat and his face went white.

He said one cold thing, "You're impossible," and turned and walked away.

The next day I woke up.

All the new clothes and the new bag Quinn had bought me.

Every last one confiscated by Cindy.

I stormed over to confront her, and Cindy folded her arms and spoke coldly.

"Tessa, I told you. Anything unreported can't be used without permission."

"You've already overdrawn next month's living allowance by three thousand. Pay that back first, and then we'll talk."

But I knew. Confiscated was just a word.

All of it had become her own personal property.

And I didn't want to endure it one second longer. I called Quinn right then.

"Are you free tomorrow morning? Come to the marriage license office."

On the other end came the sound of a glass shattering.

"Yes! Absolutely!"

"I'll cancel every meeting, cancel everything on my schedule. Even if the sky falls, I'll be there."

"Tessa, do you know? I've waited eight whole years for this day."

I tugged the corner of my mouth.

Eight years ago, Quinn and I started our companies at the same time.

He chased me for three years. I turned him down three times.

Back then I thought he was too immature, not my type at all.

He said childish things every day, and around me he was even more like a little kid.

Later I chose Dean.

Because he seemed honest, dependable, steady.

On my wedding day, Quinn was the only one who didn't come.

That night, dead drunk, he sent me a voice message.

"If the day ever comes when you can't go on, I'm here, anytime."

I never imagined those words would still hold, three years later.

Early the next morning, before I dragged my suitcase out of that house.

I went straight into the family account, entered the password, and transferred out the two hundred grand in savings I'd deposited with my own hands.

That was the money I'd set aside for my future child's diapers and formula.

Since I didn't want Dean anymore, of course the money should come with me.

Just as I was about to head out, my phone buzzed.

A group message from Cindy.

The group was called "the Matthews household finance chat group," with three members: me, Dean, and Cindy.

Cindy: "@Tessa Winfield, explain the purpose of the 200k transfer ten minutes ago. Minimum 500 words required, or double the amount will be deducted from next month's allowance."

Below it, Dean replied right after.

"Why on earth would you transfer out two hundred grand?"

"Tessa, the process still has to be followed. Don't put Cindy in a hard spot."

Transferring my own money, and I still had to explain myself to someone else.

I'd had more than enough of this kind of life.

I stared at the screen for three seconds, then typed my reply: "Divorce."