He Paid Half My Mother’s Surgery, Now I Own Half His Company Chapter 01
After throwing myself into a 9-to-9, six-day-a-week work schedule, I finally stopped obsessing over my relationship.
I no longer had time to snoop through my husband Antony Fleming’s phone. No spare minutes to overanalyze every detail of his schedule.
Once, I’d lie awake night after night, torturing myself over whether he truly loved me. Now, I pass out the second my head hits the pillow.
Yet Antony shook me awake in the middle of the night. “I won’t be able to make our wedding anniversary tomorrow. Selena’s family is forcing her to go on a blind date. I’m driving her back home.”
I was so sleepy I could barely keep my eyes open, so I just gave a drowsy nod.
Seconds later, I shot bolt upright in bed. “No.”
A faint smirk tugged at Antony’s lips. “So you are jealous after all?”
I shook my head. “I just remembered something I need to tell you.”
“I get paid on the fifteenth. I’ll pay back every cent you lent me for Mom’s surgery.”
“After that, we’re even.”
……
The smile faded from Antony’s face. “Jessie, what are you saying?”
My voice came out thick with sleep. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
On the day Mom went in for surgery, the hospital’s billing department hounded me three times.
Two hundred and thirty thousand dollars. My card got declined. Clutching the billing slip, I called Antony.
He was at a gala. I could hear clinking glasses in the background, mixed with Selena’s bright, sugary laugh.
After hearing me out, he just said, “I’ll have accounting send you one hundred eighteen thousand. You figure out the rest.”
He’d once dropped three million on a single painting at an auction. Money was never an issue for him. He just wanted to punish me.
We’d fought the night before, all because of a photo Selena had sent him: she was in a slip dress, draped in Antony’s suit jacket over her shoulders.
[Mr. Fleming, the hotel AC is freezing. I borrowed your coat for a bit.]
[It must have picked up my perfume. Should I drop it off at the dry cleaner’s tomorrow?]
I grabbed his phone and typed a reply: [Your little seduction routine is so transparent.]
Right after I hit send, Antony stepped out of the bathroom.
He snatched the phone away, unsent my message, and texted Selena instead: [No need for dry-cleaning. Bring it to the office tomorrow. Get some rest.]
He set the phone face-down on the nightstand and sighed. “You’ve got way too much free time sitting at home. Not everyone sits around all day overthinking petty drama like you do.”
We’d ended the night on terrible terms.
Clutching the hospital bill in my hand, I could only beg him in a low voice. “Antony, please send me the money first. I’ll treat it as a loan. I swear I’ll pay you back.”
There was a long pause on the line. Then Antony spoke again. “I’ll do it. But on one condition. You apologize to Selena.”
Before I could answer, Selena’s voice piped through the speaker.
“Mr. Fleming, don’t push her. Her mom’s life is on the line right now. An apology from Jessie wouldn’t even be sincere.”
Rage burned hot in my chest. I snapped at her, “Who do you think you are, demanding an apology from me?”
The line went dead. Antony had hung up.
Soon, one hundred eighteen thousand dollars hit my account. Only the figure he had mentioned.
I scraped together the rest by swallowing my pride and begging relatives for loans.
After Mom’s surgery, I sold two designer bags to pay those relatives back.
I’d sold so many of my belongings since then I’d lost count. But now I was only five thousand short of settling my debt to Antony.
Antony’s gaze fell to my bare wrists. “Where’s your gold bangle?”
“I sold it.”
His brows drew tight. “I told you. If you’d just swallowed your pride, you wouldn’t have had to pay me back at all. I never asked you to put yourself through all this.”
He obviously hadn’t expected me to actually take a grueling job and sell off my jewelry, because in past fights, no matter how ugly things got, I was always the one who caved first.
The worst blow-up had been when Selena accompanied him on a week-long business trip.
When Antony came home, I spotted a faint red mark on his neck. Sobbing and demanding answers, I blocked the doorway so he couldn’t leave.
Antony stared down at me coldly. “Jessie, can you have any self-respect?”
I clung to his waist, barely coherent through my tears. “Yeah, I’m pathetic… because I love you…”
Mom had dropped by unannounced and overheard every word.
Her eyes glistened as she called my name. “Jessie, don’t talk about yourself that way.”
Back then, I’d been too busy clinging to Antony to notice how broken-hearted she looked. In hindsight, her heart trouble must have been getting worse long before the emergency surgery.
Antony waited for me to back down.
Instead, I lay back down and closed my eyes. “Let’s get some sleep. I have work tomorrow.”
The words surprised even me. Because he was always the one saying that to me.
I used to think it sounded so cruel. Now I understood: when you stop loving someone, shutting them out is effortless. You can simply close your eyes and block out all the hurt.
A few minutes passed. He tried again. “Are you really going to pay me back?”
I didn’t answer.
When Antony turned to look over, I was already fast asleep.