Starved on $800 a Month, I Asked His Brother to Help Raise Our Child

“This month’s living allowance was wired to you by Paulette a while ago. The company’s having cash flow trouble, so don’t throw the money around. Make it stretch.” The call cut off, and my heart went cold along with it. Three months ago, Eugene told me his secretary, Paulette, would be handling the household expenses from then on. I called Paulette to ask for money, and she answered in that bright, smiling voice of hers. “Sylvia, Mr. Henson’s been strapped for cash lately, so he’s tightened the household budget. Try to make it stretch.” When the money landed, I stared at it in disbelief. “Eugene only gave me eight hundred dollars?” Her smile thinned. “I’m only the secretary. This is what Mr. Henson instructed, of course.” But before this, I’d had ten thousand a month, and Eugene still complained I spent too little. “Silly Sylvia, you’re my wife. Everything I earn is meant to be spent on my wife.” He remembered how I’d crammed into that rented apartment with him back in the early days, and he swore he’d give me the best of everything. But now, eight hundred dollars to feed me and the baby both. How could that ever be enough? I wanted to tell Eugene the money wasn’t quite enough, and instead I got a cold notice from him. “Paulette says you call three times a day. It’s seriously hurting my productivity.” “From now on, book an appointment with Paulette before you call. Once it’s approved, she’ll transfer you through to me.” “Also, Paulette says you’ve been complaining the money’s too little. Grow up a little.” After that, Eugene’s phone was basically unreachable. Because every time I tried to book, Paulette turned me down on the grounds that he was too busy. When the money came in, I went to the store and bought the cheapest formula there was. One can was two hundred seventy. Two cans came to five hundred forty. That left two hundred sixty, and after the water and electric bills, there was almost nothing. The second month it was eight hundred again. I bought diapers and two bags of instant noodles, and by the time the third month’s eight hundred landed, there were only three diapers left, the formula can was empty, and the noodles were gone. All I could do was keep scraping by. The third month’s eight hundred had just come in when the nanny saw it. She sneered with contempt. “You really can’t afford to live, can you? What’s eight hundred dollars supposed to cover? If you’ve got no money, don’t hire a nanny.” “And my wages haven’t been paid in three months. Keep stalling and I’ll take you to court.” She yanked off her apron right there and walked out on the spot. Thinking back on all of it, past the despair, I drew in a deep breath. I scrolled to a familiar name in my contacts and dialed. “Are you busy? Could you come look after the baby? The baby’s out of formula, and I haven’t eaten in a day…” My voice choked up more with every word. “I’m sorry. I know this is a huge imposition.” “But I really have no other option. I don’t know a soul in this city. Yours is the only number I have…” There was only two seconds of silence on the other end. “Wait for me at home. I’ll be right there.” Caleb. My husband Eugene’s college roommate, and his closest friend. He’d been a groomsman at our wedding, and during the toasts he’d laughed and said, if Eugene ever mistreats you, I’ll be the first one to object. I never thought those words would come true so soon. In under forty minutes, the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and Caleb was standing there with two big bags in his hands, his forehead soaked with sweat. He saw the state I was in and froze for a moment. “Sylvia, don’t cry.” “Give the baby to me.” He handed me the crab-roe buns and lean-pork porridge from the takeout bag. “Eat first, while it’s hot.” Then he pulled two cans of the best formula out of the bag and went to make a bottle for the baby. My hands shook too hard to hold the chopsticks, and after two sips of porridge my stomach turned.

Caleb didn't rush me. He just broke a roll into small pieces and set them on a saucer. "What about Eugene? Does he even know you're living like this?" I shook my head. Caleb went quiet for a moment, then asked, "How long has it been since he came home?" I gave a bitter smile. "Last month, maybe." "He's always off on business trips lately. Last month he swung by to grab a file, and then he was gone again." His secretary, Paulette, had trailed in behind him. Eugene had barely scooped the baby up. Before I could get a word of complaint out, Paulette cut in, tapping her watch. "Mr. Henson, you've been holding the baby for a full minute. One minute is worth millions in revenue. We can't afford any more delays." His face stiffened. All he could do was hand the baby back to me, reluctant every second of it. "Sylvia, take good care of the baby. I'll come see you once things settle down." But that "once things settle down" stretched into nearly three months. Word was that for the project he'd been chasing lately, he'd bought a small apartment out where he was staying. Caleb's expression darkened. He pulled out his phone, ready to call. I grabbed his hand fast. "Don't. He's busy—" What I didn't say was that if I called him without an appointment first, next month even that $800 living allowance would probably vanish. Caleb let out a cold laugh. "Busy? Busy buying Paulette gowns?" "Five million. The whole circle's talking about it. Word is his little secretary had a birthday, so he rented out an entire floor of Cartier." "Plus a five-million-dollar couture gown, without so much as a blink." I lowered my head, my nails digging into my palms. So everyone had known all along. Only I sat home like a fool, counting out $800 and splitting each dollar into pieces. Seeing the look on my face, Caleb realized he'd said too much. "That's not what I meant. I just think Eugene's a bastard for treating you this badly." He glanced around the empty apartment, sighed, and placed an order right there for a load of vegetables and quick meals. "Sylvia, you can't be so soft. If Eugene keeps pushing you around like this, then divorce him. Simple as that." Still, since I was his brother's wife, he'd kept his advice measured as he left, careful not to overstep. But we already had a child, and giving birth had left me with lasting injuries. If we really divorced, what would happen to the baby? Even so, I was grateful Caleb had come. Because of him, the baby and I had at least another two weeks of food. Two days later, out of nowhere, I got a call from my mother-in-law. "Sweetheart, I'm coming to see you and the baby in a couple of days. Oh, that reminds me—did you get the hundred thousand in spending money I wired last month?" I froze completely. "A hundred thousand? When was this?" Hearing my reaction, her tone turned serious. "You didn't get it?" "That rotten boy Eugene, I told him to pass it along to you. How did he handle this?" "Mom—" My lips were trembling. "Eugene has Paulette managing the household budget now. Every dollar spent here goes through her hands." "Last time, Paulette said you looked down on me for having a daughter, so she didn't give me a cent—" On the other end, my mother-in-law drew a sharp breath and cursed under her voice. "That bastard!" "Sylvia, you stay put at home. I'm coming over right now to have your back!" Half an hour later, she rang the doorbell. The moment she laid eyes on me, shock washed over her face. "You…" Her gaze moved over my puffy face and my haggard state, and her eyes filled with ache. "Poor child, has that animal Eugene been mistreating you?" Then she took the baby into her arms, her eyes blazing with fury.

"The baby's only a few months old, and you dress him in one thin little onesie?" "How the hell does Eugene call himself a father!" I looked down at the little sleeper on my baby, washed until the color had gone. It was a clearance piece I'd bought from the baby store. Twenty-five dollars, the cheapest thing on the rack. The clerk beside me looked me over with open contempt. "A grown woman with a kid, and this stingy about her own child." "If you're that broke, why have a baby at all." It sat like a stone in my chest. Who would ever guess that the woman buying the twenty-five-dollar clearance onesie had a husband who was a CEO pulling in millions a month. Say it out loud and no one would believe you anyway. "Where's the nanny?" "Paulette said... she said the nanny came for one day and got sent away." Carol Henson frowned, confused. "Who is she to send anyone away?" "Paulette told me to learn to handle it myself," I said. "She said everyone else manages, so why couldn't I." Carol was so furious she slammed her hand down on the table right then. "This is going too far! Since when does an outsider get to stick her nose into Henson family business?" She set down everything she'd brought, then pulled out her phone and wired me a hundred thousand dollars. Then she stormed off to have it out with Paulette. I actually thought the worst was finally behind me. But somehow, whatever Paulette said to her, the next call I got from Carol was full of apology. "Sylvia, eight hundred dollars a month, I know that really is unfair to you." "But Paulette has her reasons for doing this." "Just make do for now, all right?" I stared at the message for a long time and gave a bleak, bitter little laugh. I didn't know what the secretary's so-called reasons were. All I knew was that Carol had, once again, ended up standing on the opposite side from me. Half a month later, Caleb showed up again with several big bags of things for me. He moved like he already knew the place by heart. The moment he walked in, he was washing clothes for me and the baby, cleaning up, then heading into the kitchen to cook. Even the baby smiled up at him. For that one moment, it felt as if the three of us were the real family here. That night, Eugene happened to come home and caught Caleb holding the baby while cooking for me. His face went ashen on the spot as he grabbed Caleb by the collar and demanded an answer. "Caleb, what the hell are you doing in my house, holding my kid?" Caleb's face went cold too as he threw it right back. "You can't be bothered to take care of your own wife, and you've got the nerve to question me? A big-shot CEO like you, giving your wife eight hundred dollars a month for living expenses. That barely covers a snack. " "You spend more than that on a pair of socks for your little secretary, don't you?" Eugene froze. He turned to look at me, disbelief all over his face. "Eight hundred a month? I give you eighty thousand!" Caleb froze. So did I. My face drained white and a chill went straight through me. "You... what did you say?" "There's only ever been eight hundred. How could it possibly be eighty thousand?" "Starting from your fifth month of pregnancy, I had Paulette send eighty thousand a month from the company account into your card." Afraid I wouldn't believe him, Eugene pulled out his phone and brought up the transfer records. "See for yourself." Eighty thousand a month, sure enough. But the receiving account ended in 5188. I was quiet before I spoke. "My card ends in 7312." Eugene's expression changed in an instant. "Paulette said you'd switched cards. She said you found it too much of a hassle and gave her the new number..." His voice dropped lower with every word, a flicker of shock in his eyes. "Don't tell me you never switched cards. That this account isn't yours." I shook my head. "It isn't mine." Eugene stood there, rigid. "How is that possible? Paulette wouldn't lie to me."

Caleb grabbed him by the collar. "Did a mule kick you in the head? Your wife just had a baby and you handed the money to somebody else? Where's your brain?" That day, Eugene finally learned the truth. Every bit of it had been the work of his little secretary, Paulette. But no punishment came. All he did, lightly, was tell her she no longer had to manage the household expenses. I didn't understand. "Eugene, a person like this, with character like this, are you sure you still want to keep her on?" Eugene frowned, exasperated. "Paulette's very good at her job. Even if she hasn't earned credit, she's put in the work." "Sylvia, I hope you can show a little empathy. Don't hound someone into the ground." I stared for a long moment, then couldn't help but laugh. "I'm hounding her into the ground." "Eugene, if it weren't for Caleb's help, the ones hounded into the ground would be me and the baby." "Enough!" Eugene's face went cold. "I've already restored your living allowance to eighty thousand a month. What more do you want?" He snatched up his coat on the spot and slammed the door on his way out. But for a whole week, Paulette put me off with excuses—she was sick, or something else—and never transferred that eighty thousand into my account. If it hadn't been for the hundred thousand my mother-in-law had sent me earlier, and Caleb's help here and there, the baby and I would have been living on air long ago. A few days later, an elder back in Caleb's hometown fell ill, and he had to go home for a week. He left me twenty thousand and told me not to scrimp, to buy whatever I wanted. "When I get back, I'll bring the best baby formula for the little one." But Paulette caught wind of it somehow and came over to confiscate my money. "No telling where this money was stolen from. It ought to be turned in anyway." "Sylvia, you really do have a talent. I guarded against everything, and still I couldn't stop you from telling Mr. Henson the truth." Paulette tilted her chin high. "And now that you've cost me control of the finances, are you pleased with yourself?" I stared her down, cold. "Paulette, get one thing straight about who you are." "A secretary. Have you completely lost your mind?" Paulette suddenly burst out laughing. "So what if I'm a secretary? Being trusted and valued by Mr. Henson—isn't that far better than being a stay-at-home wife like you?" She stroked the two-hundred-thousand-dollar earrings, the five-hundred-thousand-dollar necklace, her eyes brimming with arrogance. "I've only been Mr. Henson's secretary for six months, and I already have all this. And you?" Her gaze drifted slowly toward my child. "Aside from being a breeding tool, what do you have?" "Sylvia, if Mr. Henson really loved you, how could a few words from me have turned him against you?" I had no words. "Get out, Paulette. You're not welcome in my home." Paulette didn't leave. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the baby. She pinched her nose and said the baby stank, and that as Mr. Henson's capable assistant, she was going to throw the baby into the tub for a bath. Eyes red, I threw myself in her way to stop her. "The baby isn't even a year old yet. She can't be bathed right now—you'll kill her!" But Paulette's eyes were full of vicious pleasure, and she shoved me hard to the floor. "Mrs. Henson, I draw a high salary. I ought to take some of Mr. Henson's burdens off his shoulders." "It's just a bath. Kids have strong immune systems. How could she die that easily?" "Besides, even if she did die, a breeding tool like you can just have another one, can't you?" Only when she'd had her fill did she saunter off. "Sylvia, consider this a lesson. I'd advise you to stop scheming after that eighty thousand." That night the baby spiked a high fever. In the dark hours she fainted and began to convulse. I panicked, clutching her tiny body as I rushed to the hospital and knelt begging the doctors to save my child! The doctor only shook his head with regret. "We did everything we could." "The baby was too small. It was already too late." I dragged my exhausted body through the arrangements afterward. Back home, I moved like the walking dead, numbly packing my bags. The baby was gone. There was no reason for me to stay here and suffer. The next day, Eugene wrapped up his long business trip. He said he'd closed the deal he'd been chasing for three months, and finally had time to come home and be with me and the baby. "Where's the baby? Is the postpartum nurse watching her, or the nanny?" Eugene's tone was light and cheerful. "Bring her over quick, and tell her Daddy's home."