On the day of our fifth wedding anniversary, I received a transfer of 99.99 million dollar from my husband, Griffin Beckham. I should have been happy to see this transfer, but "Quincy" wasn’t my name. It was Griffin's first love.
A few seconds later, the transfer was reversed. He sent a voice message, casually saying, "Wrong number."
At that moment, my mother was lying in the hospital and the surgery fees were still unbelievable. I've begged him countless times, but he always said we were short on funds and I had to wait.
I couldn't take it anymore and dialed the number, "Didn't you say you had no money? The doctor said my mom's going to die if she doesn't have surgery soon!"
He was silent for a moment, then his voice was calm, "It's different. Your mom can hold on for a few more days, but tomorrow is Quincy's birthday and she's got her eye on a rare bag."
"What kind of bag is worth a life!?"
"Suzy, are you ever going to stop?" His tone suddenly became harsher, "Quincy got heart disease because I married you, what's wrong with me buying her a gift! Besides, look at yourself, always look so sloppy, what's the difference between you and a nanny? How can I not compare you to Quincy?"
The call ended abruptly.
Meanwhile, his first love updated her social media. [So-called favoritism is basically where a man's heart is, wherever his money is.]
Griffin liked and commented, [You deserve it.]
I smiled. Since his love had a price tag and my sincerity wasn’t even worth the money needed to save a life. Then this kind of man was better off without.
The notification of the transfer being withdrawn popped up just as I hung up the doctor's call demanding payment.
I was about to send a message to question him, but Griffin's voice message appeared first, "Transferred to the wrong person."
Those words pierced my heart with precision and I finally couldn't help but dial the number.
"Where's the money? Griffin, where's my mother's surgery fee?!"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by Griffin's impatient voice, "You're at it again. Didn't I tell you, the company's cash flow..."
"Griffin, you just transferred 99.99 million to Quincy." I interrupted him, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between clenched teeth.
The other end of the line fell silent instantly, even the breathing seemed to soften.
“That was her birthday present.” After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I promised her a long time ago.”
“My mother’s life isn’t worth as much as a birthday present?”
“Suzy!” he interrupted sharply. “Don’t compare things like that. Why did Quincy get heart disease? If I hadn’t married you back then…”
“You were the one who pursued me back then!” I cried out. “You were the one who knelt down and proposed!”
Memories flooded back unexpectedly. Five years ago, Griffin’s heart and eyes were filled with nothing but me. He would suspend an international conference and fly back when I had menstrual cramps, just to personally brew a bowl of brown sugar ginger tea.
He would use his connections to bring in a top-notch team of experts when my mother suffered a sudden heart attack. He would go through a thunderstorm, traveling thousands of miles by helicopter to arrive before midnight to celebrate my birthday with me.
Back then, his eyes shone with light when he looked at me. But that light was extinguished after his first love, Quincy, returned to Crosswood.
First, there were endless phone calls late at night; then, the unfamiliar scent of perfume on his collar; and finally, he openly accompanied her to various events, without any attempt to hide it.
“Look at yourself now,” Griffin’s voice pulled me back to reality, cold and harsh. “You’re always so slovenly, no different from a nanny. How can you compare to Quincy.”
I looked down at myself. I was truly pathetic, but who gave me this pathetic state?
Six months ago, my mother urgently needed surgery, but the surgeon was unexpectedly replaced by Quincy. During the surgery, Quincy received a phone call and simply left the operating room. My mother’s condition worsened that night, requiring a heart transplant.
I went to confront Quincy, but Griffin vehemently protected her, only telling me she was in a bad mood and then the matter was dropped.
"So what?" My thoughts returned and I asked through gritted teeth, "So you took the money meant for my mom's life-saving treatment and used it to buy her a bag?"
"Your mom can wait two more days. That limited edition bag Quincy had her eye on will be gone if I don't buy it tomorrow," he said coldly.
Before I could say anything more, the call abruptly ended.
My phone screen was still lit; there was a new update on my Instagram. Quincy posted a photo of a high-end restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows in the background, two wine glasses on the table.
The caption read, [Those who are favored are fearless. It proves that a man's heart is where his money is.]
Griffin liked it instantly and commented, [You deserve it.]
I stared at that comment for a long time, then liked it and replied below, [May you two be locked in forever.]
Then, I pulled up the number at the bottom of my contacts. The call connected quickly.
"I agree to go abroad with you and join your company."
"On the condition that I need 800,000 dollar for his life-saving treatment and that I make sure Griffin is penniless within a month."
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before a voice said, "Deal. The money will be in your account in ten minutes. I'll pick you up in seven days."
After hanging up, I dialed my lawyer again, "Mr. Lawrence, draft a divorce agreement for me. I want a divorce."
