Okay. If John intended to be a jerk, then I would as well.

The following day, I set up a payment plan and began making those monthly payments. $156 each month for the honor of having brought his daughter into existence.

I messaged him regarding it, one final opportunity for him to act correctly.

I began gradually by subtly stepping back from all those minor wifely tasks I had been performing automatically.

I ceased doing his laundry and stopped ordering his monthly protein powder.

The bewilderment on his face was nearly laughable. Nearly.

He referred to me as trivial and claimed I was being manipulative.

But the worst part was when Sunday dinner arrived.

I invited my parents and his, and made meatloaf with mac and cheese — classic comfort food.

Then, while serving dessert, I accidentally dropped the bomb.

While everyone discussed children and parenting, I suddenly interjected with, “You wouldn’t believe the bill I received from the hospital!” Since John believes it’s not his issue, I will be making payments until Lila turns five.”

I promise, the room ceased to breathe.

My mother looked at me as if I had hit her. “You actually said that to her?”

He attempted to laugh. “It isn’t that way.” “She’s overreacting—”

His father-in-law fixed him with that retired-marine gaze that could break a man. “Son, you need to mature a bit.”

That evening, he perched on the side of our bed to discuss matters with me.

“I wasn’t aware of how it came across,” he stated. “I’ve been under a lot of stress at work, and finances have been strained with you on leave without pay.” I believed you would cope with it more effectively. “You’re typically more skilled at handling that.”

“I have my own stress, John,” I said coldly, “like waking up four times a night with sore nipples and still being treated like a leech in your own house.”

“However—”

“No, there are no ‘buts,’ John,” I interrupted him.

Then she uttered something that left me utterly speechless.

“We’re either in this together, or we’re not,” she stated. “If you’re not going to contribute to the bill, you should leave.” Relocate. “We’ll resolve the expenses in divorce court instead.”

The following morning, he settled the hospital bill for $4673.50.

Now I find myself facing him in therapy, as he works to discard the part of him that believed love was a record, rather than a support.