“Choose – our savings or your mother.” Those were the words that ended my ten-year marriage. When my mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I expected compassion from my husband. Instead, Arnold gave me an impossible ultimatum while secretly draining our account to buy a fishing boat.
I’d tolerated so much – his mother living with us and constantly criticizing me while Arnold did nothing. I’d missed countless family events because he claimed we couldn’t afford trips to see them. But this was different. As my mother’s time grew short, Arnold’s true colors emerged in the cruelest way possible.
So I played the long game. I documented every financial contribution, saved every demeaning text, and consulted an attorney. When Arnold was busy admiring his new boat, I took our children to see my mother. By some miracle, she was still alive when we arrived. As I helped care for her during an experimental treatment, Arnold was served with divorce papers.
The court saw through his controlling behavior. I was awarded full custody, our home, and yes – even that boat. Selling it helped pay for treatment that ultimately saved my mother’s life. Now my children grow up bilingual, video-chatting daily with their once-dying grandmother. Arnold? He learned the hard way that love shouldn’t come with conditions. And when you treat someone’s heart carelessly, you might just lose yours in return.
