I remember it well, though so many years have passed now. I was thirty-seven then and had been divorced for a decade. My ex-husband betrayed my trust and I refused to forgive him. He ended up moving in with the woman hed chosen over me. She fell pregnant, they had a son, and shortly after, he married her. After all that, I avoided any contact with him, preferring not to know what went on in his life.
Financially, I was comfortable. My salary was more than adequate. Just last week, my ex appeared at my doorafter years of not seeing each other. I was genuinely surprised to see him again, but before I could even speak, he started explaining himself. His son, from his second marriage, had been diagnosed with cancer, and the treatment required was frightfully expensive. He and his new wife couldnt afford it, so hed decided to ask me for help.
Hed heard about the money Id got from selling the house my late grandmother had left me, and, seeing how it coincided with his misfortune, he pounced on the opportunity. What luck for him that everything seemed to fall into place just at the right time.
I hadnt yet worked out what Id spend the money on. A new car seemed practical, but Id need lessons firstI never had much spare time. The amount I received was respectable and I felt no urgency to part with it. I couldnt help thinking: would he offer me help if I were the one ill? Somehow, I deeply doubted it.
Were absolutely desperate, he pleaded, almost accusingly. Yet hed never bothered with my feelings before, nor had his wife. I was quick to recall how hed cast me aside for her, not a second thought given. When we divorced, everything was split evenlyhe insisted he needed it all for his new family. He even tried to persuade me to repay him for the flat, but thankfully Id purchased it before our marriage, and that saved me. He couldnt have looked unhappier back then. Now he stood before me, demanding money, parading his own heartbreak.
He offered to bring all the documents to prove his story, but I had no interest in seeing them. I didnt want to consider his request, promises of repayment notwithstanding. The treatments his son requiredeven the rehabilitationwould cost a small fortune. Truthfully, I hardly believed Id ever see my money returned.
Why not borrow from the bank? I asked him directly.
I put it bluntly, without ceremony. He became agitated, threatened to fall to his knees before me, begging. I wanted none of it. There was no need to humiliate himI’d simply no desire to know him or have anything more to do with him. He had discarded me once, betrayed my love, so let him face the consequences. He said hed come back, hoping Id reconsider once emotions had settled. But there was nothing to reconsider.
Perhaps some might think me heartless. But I insist on managing my own financessharing them with no one outside my circle. After that encounter, I felt uneasy, admittedly. Yet I remain resolved: I would not help them. Let this be a lesson and the price paid for their wrongdoings.
