MY HUSBAND QUIT HIS JOB CLAIMING HE WAS SICK — I TRUSTED HIM AND GAVE HIM ALL MY MONEY FOR TREATMENT, UNTIL THE TRUTH CAME OUT

I work as a project manager for a software company, and I truly enjoy what I do. My salary is enough to support our small family.
My two boys, Liam and Jake, are my greatest motivation. Liam, 12, is curious and passionate about science. Jake, 10, is our little athlete.

Then there’s Kyle — my husband of 15 years. He has always been the calm in my storm, the solid foundation of our family. He worked as an operations manager at a logistics firm, always busy but reliable and supportive.

But everything changed one afternoon.

Kyle walked into the house looking ghostly pale, holding a folder. His lips were tightly pressed as he placed the folder on the table.

— “Laura,” he began, his voice trembling, “I have muscular dystrophy.”

Those words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

— “I didn’t want to tell you like this,” he said softly, “but I need to start treatment. I think we’ll have to cancel the trip with the boys. I hate to disappoint them, but…”

— “I’m your wife,” I said, taking his hand. “We’ll get through this together.”

That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I whispered to myself: We’ll need more money.

So I made a decision.

— “I can handle it,” I told him the next day. “I’ll get a part-time job. We’ll cut expenses. You focus on your health. Quit your job and rest.”

I found an evening job at a nearby restaurant, cleaning tables after my day job. Every penny I made went to Kyle for his so-called treatment.

He started to seem happier. He smiled more, looked more relaxed. And I worked harder, believing I was helping him recover.

— “It’s better if I go alone,” he often said. “I don’t want you to miss work.”

I never questioned it. I trusted him completely.

Until one night, everything changed.

On my way to the restaurant, a white SUV pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing an elegant woman with dark sunglasses and perfectly styled hair.

She took off her glasses and looked me straight in the eyes.

— “Is Kyle your husband?” she asked.

— “Yes. Why?” I replied.

She smirked slightly.

— “Oh, he’s more than fine. But you really should check where he’s going for those ‘treatments.’ And while you’re at it, take a look at his bank statements.”

I was stunned. Her words haunted me the entire night. Who was she? How did she know Kyle?

The next morning, Kyle kissed me goodbye and said:

— “I’ll be back around three. I’ve got two procedures today, one in the evening.”

The moment he left, I opened his laptop with trembling hands.

I checked his financial app. There were no payments to hospitals, no medical bills, no doctor appointments. Nothing.

Instead, there were charges for luxury restaurants, golf club memberships, high-end clothing stores — and even a fee for a romantic weekend getaway I had never heard of.

That evening, I followed him.

He went to a trendy downtown bar — not a clinic. I watched through the window.

He and his friends laughed loudly, drinks in hand. And then I heard it.

— “She’s still giving you money?” one of his friends asked.

— “Yep,” Kyle laughed. “She even got a part-time job to help cover it all. Being married to someone that gullible has its perks.”

His words tore me apart.

As I turned to leave, I saw the same white SUV parked outside. The woman rolled down her window.

— “I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” she said. “My boyfriend is one of his friends. When I found out what they were doing, I couldn’t stay quiet. You deserved to know.”

The next morning, I took control.

I called his old workplace and let them know he was healthy enough to return.

Then I went to the bank and froze all our joint accounts. With the remaining money, I paid off the mortgage and opened a new account in my name.

When everything was done, I sent Kyle a message:

“Kyle, go treat your ego and your cruelty — those are your real diseases. Don’t bother coming home.”

I changed the locks, packed my things, and took the boys to my parents’ house. I never wanted to see Kyle again.

I filed for divorce. And now I’m waiting for it to be finalized — so I can finally be free from the man who betrayed me in the most heartless way possible.