My Husband Ignored My Mother's Life to Save His Childhood Friend's Mom

My mother was diagnosed with coronary heart disease and needed stent surgery. I prepaid eighty thousand dollars.

My fianc, Joel James, scoffed, Your mother's already so old. Saving her would just mean more suffering for her.

I tried to lay it all out, to make him see it from my side, but he gave a small sneer and took none of it in. That same day, he withdrew the eighty thousand dollars.

The next day, I got a payment reminder from the hospital: "Ms. Fox, the surgery is about to begin. Please settle the payment as soon as possible."

I stared at the message and listened to Joel explain, completely unbothered:

"Saving the elderly is pointless, a waste of society's resources."

Two weeks later, his childhood sweetheart Gillian Simmons's mother came down with high blood pressure.

He hired the most professional medical team and used the most advanced equipment to run a full set of tests on her mother.

Joel held the hand of Gillian's mother and said gently:

"Mrs. Simmons, just relax and let them run the tests."

"Your health is what matters most. Money is no object."

There in the noisy hospital corridor, he and Gillian gazed at each other tenderly.

It suddenly struck me that letting go might be the best thing I could do for myself.

...

As I listened to the most authoritative team lay out treatment options for Mrs. Simmons one by one, a bitter ache filled my chest.

A nurse standing nearby spoke up enviously:

"That's Dr. William's team. He's the gold standard in cardiology."

"Mr. James really cares about Ms. Simmons! Her mother just has high blood pressure, and he goes all out to bring in a top team like that."

Listening to them talk, my eyes reddened, tears swimming in them.

What kept echoing in my mind was my mother's rough hands comforting me, and the indifference in Joel's voice.

High blood pressure versus coronary heart diseasewhich one was more serious was plain to see.

Back then he'd held his phone, not even lifting his head as he said:

"Aging, sickness, and death are part of life. You have to accept that fact."

Now he was sparing no cost to bring in an authoritative team to treat a case of high blood pressure. That alone proved where Gillian stood in his heart.

"Catherine."

A gentle voice came from behind me.

I turned to look. Gillian had come up behind me at some point, holding the medication she'd just picked up.

Emotions churned inside me.

"You just got the medicine?"

There was a smugness in her tone.

"Joel had someone air-freight it in from overseas especially. He said my mother deserves the best."

I knew that medication.

It was made for treatment-resistant hypertension, a new-generation potent ARB blood pressure medication too. The daily cost was steep.

And my mother had coronary heart disease.

He'd only stopped by to look, without even a word of concern or comfort, let alone a medical team.

I couldn't help a self-mocking little laugh. "Then he really did put his heart into it."

One of the guys who'd come to the hospital to visit a patient chuckled and remarked:

"Joel, you really went all out for Gillian's mother! It's just a case of high blood pressure, and yet the whole production is jaw-dropping."

He didn't pick up on the hostility between us, and turned to me:

"You're Joel's real, official girlfriend, so he'll surely be even more generous with you."

In an instant every gaze fell on me.

Joel said nothing. He kept peeling an apple, not even lifting his head.

There was something studying in the way he held himself.

He was waiting for me to show a pleading, wounded look, to prove how much he meant to me.

It was a long moment before I answered, "There's no rush on that."

The truth was, I had always been waiting for Joel.

Three years ago, when we watched the aurora in Murmansk, he promised me, beneath all those countless stars, that he would propose to me at the airport the day we came home.

That I'd feel the blessings of travelers from every corner of the world.

But all I got in return was his broken promise.

Joel looked up at me, his palm clenching without his meaning it to, then his gaze landed on Gillian's face.

"Of course I wouldn't be stingy with Catherine. It's that boyfriend of yours"

"He didn't even show up when your mother got sick. What kind of man did you pick?"

Gillian looked at him, tenderness flowing in her eyes:

"Joel, how is it that my man is more capable than you? You're the president of the James Group, and one phone call got William's team and the potent ARB blood pressure medication for my mother."

"Anyone who knows would say she's my mother, but anyone who doesn't would think she's your future mother-in-law, Joel."

"If you want to claim my mom as your mother-in-law"

"maybe I could give you a chance to try?"

The guys teased with a laugh, "Careful what you say, Gillian. What if it actually comes true?"

"Right, right, Joel's a married man."

Every gaze drifted back and forth between the two of them, as if it were a foregone conclusion that, without me, they'd end up together.

They knew Joel was married, and yet they went on joking without the slightest hesitation.

I glanced at Joel.

Then I turned and fled the hospital corridor, full of disinfectant and cheerful laughter.

Since I couldn't fit into their world, I wouldn't force it.

By the time Joel realized I was gone, I was already home.

That evening I was on the couch watching a show when Joel looked at me, furious.

He yanked his tie loose in irritation, gulped down a big mouthful of water, and demanded:

"Catherine Fox! Can't you rein in your temper?"

His voice was heavy, edged with anger.

"Gillian's mother was in the hospital, all of us were there, and you just up and left on your own. Did you even think about how Gillian felt?"

I stared straight at him.

The warm yellow light fell over his head, and the eyes that had once been full of tenderness were now utterly cold.

"Joel, what did you do when my mother was diagnosed with coronary heart disease?"

He froze where he stood.

"You told me she was old, that saving her would be a waste, that she'd just suffer through it and drain society's resources."

"But Gillian Simmons's mother only had high blood pressure, and you spent a fortune to bring in an authoritative team and even got hold of ARB, a powerful blood pressure medication."

I recounted it calmly. "Gillian Simmons's mother was sick and her boyfriend never showed up from start to finish, yet there you were, eagerly running around taking care of everything."

Joel rubbed his brow in frustration. "There's nothing between Gillian and me. Stop imagining things."

"Imagining things," I scoffed. "You used every bit of your money and power to treat Gillian Simmons's mother, but you left my mother to sit and wait for death."

His face darkened in an instant.

"Catherine, don't blow this out of proportion. What I did about your mother was for her own good too."

I cut in. "For my mother's own good, how nice."

"Your 'for her own good' just means letting her wait to die."

My words left him speechless, his expression truly ugly.

Then he took a check out of his suit pocket and neatly wrote down an amount.

He raised his hand and tossed it at me.

I watched the check drift lightly past me and settle on the floor.

"Is that enough money to save your mother's life?"

His voice was cold.

"Use the money on that check however you want. It's enough to save ten mothers like yours."

Looking at the check on the floor, all I felt was that he was handing me charity.

Even now he still didn't understand what I was really angry about.

Of course. Five years together, and when had he ever understood?

Just then, my phone rang abruptly.

When he saw who was calling, Joel drew a sharp breath, reined in his emotions, and said:

"Gillian? Your sister-in-law is just throwing a little tantrum. You're too understandingdon't pay her any mind."

He hung up, looked at the stubbornness in my eyes, and said calmly:

"If you're going to throw a tantrum, at least know the time and place, and know when to stop. Go and cool off."

Then he turned and walked away.

I stood there calmly for a long while before I picked up the check off the floor.

The payee line read Gillian Simmons.

The name had been written out stroke by stroke, enough to show how much care its writer had put into it.

Next to Gillian Simmons, I had always come second in Joel's heart.

I gave a bitter smile, and all at once my nose stung.

In the end I tore the check to pieces and threw them into the air.

My phone lit up while I was eating.

When I opened it, I saw the chat logs between Gillian Simmons and Joel James.

The conversation had taken place on the day my mother was diagnosed with coronary heart disease.

"I only said it in passing. I never thought you'd actually withdraw the money for her mother's treatment, Joel."

"Whatever you say, I take seriously."

"Won't Catherine make a scene if she finds out?"

"Let her. Worst case, I'll just coax her back. But you have to act like you know nothing about it, so she won't resent you."

I stared at that message and read it over and over, and couldn't help a self-mocking little laugh.

All because of one offhand joke from Gillian, he had taken my mother's life-saving money.

All because he was "afraid I'd resent her," he wouldn't even bother to explain.

He would rather make himself look bad than let Gillian suffer the slightest bit.

Just then, she posted to her social media feed.

I tapped into it without thinking.

The first thing I saw was a photo of her with her arm around Joel, captioned: My mother never had high blood pressure at all. It was all a show I wrote and performed myself, just to see how far a certain someone would go for me.

A friend commented, "Gillian, aren't you afraid it'll blow up in your face?"

She replied with a voice message in a coy, teasing tone:

"I just wanted to see where I stand in his heart. I didn't expect ithe scored a perfect ten."

I turned off my phone screen.

I got up and left the restaurant, heading home.

When I got home, I went straight into the bedroom and started packing.

I opened the cabinet, and there in the very center was the limited-edition warship model.

I'd planned to surprise him with it once my mother recovered.

I'd had to call in a lot of favors to get this model.

I'd kept imagining the look on his face when he received it.

Would he pull me into an excited hug?

Would he stand there frozen?

I gently stroked the model. I'd already polished it until it gleamed.

Five years togethershould I give him one more chance?

In the small hours of the morning, Joel dragged his exhausted body home.

He turned on the living room light and saw me sitting on the sofa, stroking our photo album. He came over and pulled me tightly into his arms.

"Catherine," he said with regret, "I'm sorry. I lost my composure today."

He carefully cupped my face in his hands.

"Everything is my fault. I've already put the money back for your mother's surgery. Let's make this work and stop fighting, okay?"

I looked down into his hopeful eyes.

Then I went and brought out the warship model from the bedroom and handed it to him.

"Joel, I bought this just for you."

He stood there stunned, a look of delight spreading across his face as he stared at the model.

Then, with trembling hands, he took it.

He studied the model carefully, then set it on the table, snapped a photo, and sent it to someone.

"This is the one Gillian likes."

He said.

Watching him cradle his phone and chat away so eagerly, I couldn't help curving my lips into a self-mocking smile.

"Say that again."

"I said this is the one Gillian asked me to buy."

He stared hard at my face and said impatiently, "Catherine, don't think that just because you got hold of the model, you can use it to demand that I marry you. It's still not the time for me to marry you."

"Then when is the time? Just because you once said you wanted a warship model, I called in a lot of favors to get it."

"I know you went to a lot of trouble."

He said wearily.

"But that still can't be your reason to pressure me into marrying you. Catherine, can't you stop being so impatient?"

The moment my nose started to sting, I suddenly remembered how he had held my hand in Fairbanks and said solemnly, "Catherine, let's get married as soon as we get back. I can't wait any longer."

How different things were now. From the same man's mouth, five years later, it had all become "scheming."

Seeing how pale my face had gone, his tone eased, and he kissed me on the cheek.

"Tomorrow I'll go with you to visit your mother. Once we've both calmed down and can sit and talk it through, we'll discuss marriage, all right?"

I let him kiss me.

His kiss was tender and careful, but my heart didn't stir at all.

Afterward I coaxed him into going into the bedroom to catch up on his sleep.

Looking at the closed bedroom door, I packed the model into my suitcase.

I took one last look at the home I'd lived in for five years, then wheeled my suitcase out the door.

Since the one he cared about most wasn't me, I'd give up my place.

The next day, I went to the hospital to look after my mother.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Joel:

"I'll visit your mother some other day. Gillian wants to watch the sunset at the beach, so I'm going to go with her. It's not like your side is in a rush anyway."

No rush.

Those few careless words meant that in his eyes Gillian's business mattered more than anything, while my feelings could simply be ignored.

Right after came a message from Gillian.

"Back then Joel and I were together, but because I didn't keep my distance from other guys, he went and found you to make me jealous."

"And let me tell you one more thing. I only happened to mention that limited-edition warship model to Joel in passing. I never expected you'd actually go and get it for him. It doesn't feel good to have your sincerity carelessly trampled, does it?"

Then she sent a photo.

In it, Gillian was dressed to show plenty of skin, draped over Joel as if she had no bones. And Joel, far from pushing her away to keep his distance, was gazing at her tenderly.

Below the photo she'd added a line.

"The one Joel loves is me. People have to learn to let go."

I pressed the screen dark and slumped helplessly to the floor.

Five years. What I had taken for tenderness and care had all been just to make Gillian jealous.

The pathetic part was that I was still torn over whether to give up five years of a relationship.

She sent another document. When I opened it, there were more photos than I could count, all of them together.

They'd climbed mountains, gone skiing, nestled together under a parachute, kissed while diving.

Their love was fierce and blazing, as if they wanted to tell the whole world that they were together.

It was almost funny. The photos of me and Joel didn't add up to half of theirs.

He'd said that with him by my side, there was no need for so many photos.

Yet not only did he stay by Gillian's side, he took this many photos to keep as mementos.

My eyes filled with tears despite myself. I slid helplessly to the floor, hugged my knees, and cried my heart out.

I shoved my phone into my bag and walked straight to the hospital's payment counter.

"I need to arrange a transfer to another hospital for the patient in bed 632."

The person at the counter asked for my mother's basic information.

I held the signed informed consent form for the transfer.

Breathing in the disinfectant that saturated the hospital, I sat numbly in the chair.

All at once I remembered five years ago, when he took my hand under the ginkgo tree and swore, "From now on, I, Joel James, will be loyal to you, Catherine Fox, alone."

I remembered how shy he'd been the first time he kissed me.

I remembered his delight when he took me out rowing.

Now those things were like bubbles, passing clouds and smoke.

Someone else had long since taken up residence in his heart.

I wiped the tears from my face and went downstairs to buy food for my mother.

As I was paying, the screen showed that Gillian had sent me a video two hours earlier.

It was Gillian running barefoot along the beach while Joel watched her doting.

And then they kissed, under the envious stares of passersby.

Watching it now, I felt nothing at all.

On my way back to the ward, I ran into Joel and Gillian.

Joel had his arm around Gillian, who was clutching her stomach, patiently telling her to take care while helping her drink water.

When he looked up he saw me and asked, puzzled, "Catherine? What are you doing here?"

Gillian spoke up then, weakly:

"I got my period and my stomach hurts. Joel came specially to keep me company. I never imagined we'd have the luck to run into you here."

I turned my back to them.

The sunlight through the window fell warm on my body.

As if I had finally let go, I said calmly.

"I'm here to handle the transfer paperwork for my mother."

"Joel, let's break up."