I laughed at first, certain he was joking. When I asked why, he sighed as if I were the problem.
“My wife needs a new car. Hers is falling apart. And honestly?” He paused, then added, “You don’t really need the money anyway.”
That was the moment I realized he wasn’t even pretending this was about our child.
Every instinct told me to say no. Child support isn’t a favor—it’s a responsibility. But something deeper kicked in: a quiet, tired part of me that had spent years covering his gaps, making excuses, absorbing the stress so our son wouldn’t have to.
So instead, I said calmly, “Okay. Let’s talk next week at drop-off.”
He didn’t question it. Just said, “Good,” and hung up—clearly convinced he’d won.
The next week, I arrived right on time. Our son hopped out of the car, backpack slung over one shoulder, waving as he ran inside. I handed my ex an envelope. He smiled—actually smiled—like this was just a formality. Maybe he thought it was a written agreement. Maybe he thought I’d caved.
He opened it, skimmed the page, and his face drained of color.
Inside was a simple letter:
Since you won’t be paying child support for the next six months, I’ll also be taking a break. Our son will be living with you full-time during that period. Please be prepared to take on all financial, educational, and medical responsibilities.
