Not Enough Support From My Husband His Best Friend Stepped In Chapter 01

Not Enough Support From My Husband His Best Friend Stepped In Chapter 01

The third time Bryson Carter, my husband, transferred me a mere eight hundred dollars for living expenses, the nanny threw down her apron and quit.

She cursed on her way out. “Rich folks are always the stingiest. Eight hundred isn’t even enough for my pay. Don’t hire a nanny if you can’t afford one.”

I held my newborn baby, silent tears streaming down my face.

When we first got married, Bryson would’ve happily given me a hundred grand a month, and he’d complain that I was too thrifty.

But ever since Elsie Lowood, his new secretary, took over the finances, I’d only gotten eight hundred a month for living costs.

It wasn’t enough to buy baby formula, let alone pay the nanny’s wages.

Bryson dropped five million on a couture gown for Elsie.

Meanwhile, I looked disheveled, holding my baby and unable to afford even one proper meal.

Finally, out of options, I called Caden Blake, Bryson’s best friend.

“The baby’s out of formula and won’t stop crying. I haven’t eaten all day either…”

Caden heard the tears in my voice and came over without a word to help with the baby.

That night, Bryson walked in and found his friend holding our baby while cooking for me.

His expression darkened. “What are you doing here?”

Caden shot back coldly.

“You won’t take care of your own wife and kid, yet you dare question me? Eight hundred bucks is barely pocket change. You’d spend more than that just on a pair of socks for your little secretary.”

Bryson turned to me, stunned. “Eight hundred? I sent you eighty thousand every month!”

Everyone went still.

***

Three days after the nanny left, I finished the last piece of bread.

The baby’s formula ran out too.

I fed the baby the last bottle of formula, but she was still hungry and wailed at the top of her lungs.

I held her, bouncing and shushing, desperate.

“Baby, please don’t cry. Mommy hasn’t eaten all day either.”

Helpless, I opened the fridge. All I found were two cartons of expired milk and a bag of wilted greens.

For three straight months, I only received eight hundred bucks in living expenses, and nothing edible remained.

I sighed and reached for the greens. But thin mold flecks covered them; the leaves crumbled when touched.

I paced the living room holding the screaming baby.

Her small face turned purple from crying, and there was not one drop left in the bottle.

I sank onto the floor in despair, helpless tears spilling down my cheeks.

At the baby’s vaccination appointment the month before, the nurse had said her weight was too low and told me to feed her more.

I’d told the nurse she had a small appetite. That was a lie. It wasn’t that she ate little, but that there was nothing to feed her.

I could barely feed myself. How could I feed her?

I drew a deep breath and forced myself to call Bryson.

The phone rang a few times before Bryson’s impatient voice came through.

“I told you, make an appointment with my secretary before calling. I’m busy. This call just cost me a million.”

He had kept insisting he was busy and that I needed to book time with his secretary before calling.

But the baby would not stop crying, and I couldn’t worry about those rules now.

“Bryson, we’re out of formula. Neither of us has eaten anything all day…”

His tone shifted. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have enough money…”

Before I could finish, Elsie’s giggle cut in.

“Mr. Carter, is Mrs. Carter using the baby as an excuse to ask for money again?”

“See? I told you. She’s a gold digger. She complains the living stipend is too little and keeps trying to squeeze more cash out of you by using the child.”

Bryson’s voice went cold.

“Olive, I’ve told you. Using the baby to cash out isn’t going to work.”