He Wanted 50/50, She Took 100%

Name: He Wanted 50/50, She Took 100%
Rating: 5.0 (1 reviews)

Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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My six-figure tech career was just wiped out, leaving me, four months pregnant, vulnerable and reeling. But nothing prepared me for the chilling "family budget meeting" called by my husband, Kevin, and his mother, Brenda. They proposed a draconian 50/50 split of every expense, from utilities to groceries, and even my pregnancy and delivery costs. Worse, they demanded I pay Brenda $2,500 monthly for her non-existent "household management" services, effectively turning her into a tenant I funded. Then Kevin delivered the gut punch: any extra cost for a C-section would be "my body's issue," my financial responsibility alone. My stomach churned, not from morning sickness, but from the chilling realization that my husband and his mother saw me not as a partner or a parent, but as a walking ATM and a mere incubator. The air in the room felt toxic. My entire being, my baby, my potential medical needs-all reduced to heartless figures on a spreadsheet. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, and his own mother, demonstrate such ruthless greed and absolute disregard for my well-being? Every hidden red flag from our relationship now screamed in my ear. They watched me, triumphant smiles on their faces, as I calmly agreed to their outrageous terms. But they had no idea. They wanted to play with spreadsheets? Fine. A cold, steel clarity washed over me. The deal wasn't off; it was just about to be rewritten – by me.

Family Revenge Pregnancy Divorce Kickass Heroine

Chapter 10

Yesterday 11:50

Introduction

Then Kevin delivered the gut punch: any extra cost for a C-section would be "my body's issue," my financial responsibility alone. My stomach churned, not from morning sickness, but from the chilling realization that my husband and his mother saw me not as a partner or a parent, but as a walking ATM and a mere incubator.

The air in the room felt toxic. My entire being, my baby, my potential medical needs-all reduced to heartless figures on a spreadsheet. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, and his own mother, demonstrate such ruthless greed and absolute disregard for my well-being? Every hidden red flag from our relationship now screamed in my ear.

They watched me, triumphant smiles on their faces, as I calmly agreed to their outrageous terms. But they had no idea. They wanted to play with spreadsheets? Fine. A cold, steel clarity washed over me. The deal wasn't off; it was just about to be rewritten – by me.