Page 4
Story: When Love Wasn’t Enough
Claire’s heavy breathing from anger made me chuckle softly.
At least in this world, someone cared about me.
I quickly stopped her and said, “Please don’t go looking for him. I’ll find a time to divorce him.”
“Athena, you must be feeling terrible right now. Would you like me to come over and keep you company?”
I calmly told her, “No, don’t come. It is already late. “You should rest.”
How could I not want someone to live with me?
Claire had her own family now, and her baby was only a month old.
It didn’t feel right to ask her to leave her child and spend the night with me.
“I’ve just asked my husband. The other woman is Beckham’s student! He’s such a creep, stalking his own student.
Dickson, Claire’s husband, was a close friend of Beckham’s, so I trusted his information, but I never expected Beckham to cheat on one of his students.
Beckham worked as a professor at the university.
With his refined appearance, students frequently confessed their feelings for him, but he always maintained professional boundaries and never flirted with them.
I never imagined he’d break his own rules.
“Her name is Anna Bright, and she’s quite well-known in their class…”
Claire continued to share the information she had gathered, but I no longer wanted to listen.
Then, one by one, notifications from my bank account began appearing on my phone.
I frowned at the figures; it was almost as much as our entire annual budget.
I couldn’t wait any longer and called Beckham.
The phone rang for a long time, and I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did.
His voice was cold on the other end: “Yeah, what is it?”
I took a deep breath and asked, “Did you use our money to buy anything for her?””
There was a brief pause before he casually replied, “Yeah.”
My brow furrowed, and anger seeped into my voice: “How dare you spend my money on things for another woman? Do you remember whose husband you are?”
He scoffed, “Your money?” You haven’t worked in how long? Haven’t I been there to support you? This is my money. “I’ll spend it on whomever I want.”
My voice shook. “We’re married. “All of our assets are shared as a couple.”
Earlier this year, my company was in trouble. The boss kept piling on more work, expecting one person to do the job of three, and even after hours, we were stuck working late with no chance of a rise.
I lasted a month before deciding to quit.
I remembered how anxious I felt the day I resigned.
With no income and little savings, I felt extremely insecure.
Beckham sensed my unease and wrapped his arms around me, gently stroking my hair.
He said, “If your job makes you unhappy, leave. There’s no reason to stay in a negative environment. I’m your husband; what’s mine is yours. I’ll work hard to support our family, and I’ll always be your staunchest advocate.”
Back then, I completely trusted him.
I put my worries aside and concentrated on caring for him, preparing him a different breakfast every day.
But now he was using my unemployment as a weapon against me.
His irritated voice came from the other end: “Then let’s get a divorce.”
My heart sank.
The phone slipped from my grasp and dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
I had never considered divorcing Beckham.
Beckham and I hadn’t spoken since our bitter argument.
He unlinked my name from our joint bank accounts.
My health continued to deteriorate; my hair fell out in clumps, and despite being exhausted, I couldn’t sleep at all. I felt like I was getting sick, but assumed it was just a cold.
I went to the hospital and had some scans done, but the doctor told me I needed a brain CT. I felt a wave of panic, my mind adrift and grasping for nothing solid.
At least in this world, someone cared about me.
I quickly stopped her and said, “Please don’t go looking for him. I’ll find a time to divorce him.”
“Athena, you must be feeling terrible right now. Would you like me to come over and keep you company?”
I calmly told her, “No, don’t come. It is already late. “You should rest.”
How could I not want someone to live with me?
Claire had her own family now, and her baby was only a month old.
It didn’t feel right to ask her to leave her child and spend the night with me.
“I’ve just asked my husband. The other woman is Beckham’s student! He’s such a creep, stalking his own student.
Dickson, Claire’s husband, was a close friend of Beckham’s, so I trusted his information, but I never expected Beckham to cheat on one of his students.
Beckham worked as a professor at the university.
With his refined appearance, students frequently confessed their feelings for him, but he always maintained professional boundaries and never flirted with them.
I never imagined he’d break his own rules.
“Her name is Anna Bright, and she’s quite well-known in their class…”
Claire continued to share the information she had gathered, but I no longer wanted to listen.
Then, one by one, notifications from my bank account began appearing on my phone.
I frowned at the figures; it was almost as much as our entire annual budget.
I couldn’t wait any longer and called Beckham.
The phone rang for a long time, and I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did.
His voice was cold on the other end: “Yeah, what is it?”
I took a deep breath and asked, “Did you use our money to buy anything for her?””
There was a brief pause before he casually replied, “Yeah.”
My brow furrowed, and anger seeped into my voice: “How dare you spend my money on things for another woman? Do you remember whose husband you are?”
He scoffed, “Your money?” You haven’t worked in how long? Haven’t I been there to support you? This is my money. “I’ll spend it on whomever I want.”
My voice shook. “We’re married. “All of our assets are shared as a couple.”
Earlier this year, my company was in trouble. The boss kept piling on more work, expecting one person to do the job of three, and even after hours, we were stuck working late with no chance of a rise.
I lasted a month before deciding to quit.
I remembered how anxious I felt the day I resigned.
With no income and little savings, I felt extremely insecure.
Beckham sensed my unease and wrapped his arms around me, gently stroking my hair.
He said, “If your job makes you unhappy, leave. There’s no reason to stay in a negative environment. I’m your husband; what’s mine is yours. I’ll work hard to support our family, and I’ll always be your staunchest advocate.”
Back then, I completely trusted him.
I put my worries aside and concentrated on caring for him, preparing him a different breakfast every day.
But now he was using my unemployment as a weapon against me.
His irritated voice came from the other end: “Then let’s get a divorce.”
My heart sank.
The phone slipped from my grasp and dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
I had never considered divorcing Beckham.
Beckham and I hadn’t spoken since our bitter argument.
He unlinked my name from our joint bank accounts.
My health continued to deteriorate; my hair fell out in clumps, and despite being exhausted, I couldn’t sleep at all. I felt like I was getting sick, but assumed it was just a cold.
I went to the hospital and had some scans done, but the doctor told me I needed a brain CT. I felt a wave of panic, my mind adrift and grasping for nothing solid.