My Husband Remarried While I Was Hospitalized – Now He Begs Me To Take Him Back After Finding Out I Received A $10 Million Inheritance

After my husband remarried while I was hospitalized, I thought our marriage was over. But when he discovered that I had received a $10 million inheritance, he suddenly came crawling back, begging me to take him back. As he tried to manipulate me into forgiving him, I had to decide whether to let him back into my life or to finally cut ties and embrace my newfound freedom.

My name is Nickel Wallace. I’m a 47-year-old housewife. My family runs a regular farm. I don’t have any special skills, but I’m proud of my vast cooking repertoire. My husband, James, is the same age as me, and we were college classmates.

We both came to Florida from the countryside. Since we both lived alone, I used to cook various dishes for James using the vegetables and rice sent from my family. People often said I captured his heart through his stomach, and I knew it was true.

James has always been incapable of doing any household chores. I’ve been taking care of him since we started dating, and after we got married, I continued to handle all the household tasks.

Sadly, we didn’t have children, but we enjoyed our life together as a couple. We both love to eat, and on James’s days off, we’d often go on drives to enjoy delicious food.

When we first got married, James was kind, but after about five years, he became controlling. He never hit me, but his remarks became harsh, often saying, “Whose money do you think we’re living on?”

Those words hurt, but I didn’t have the energy to fight back, assuming he wouldn’t listen anyway. Being a full-time housewife made me feel inferior, and I couldn’t stand up to him.

James joined a well-known company after graduating from university but quit after about six years. He quickly found new jobs but would resign from them after short periods. Because of this, our income was unstable.

We managed by looking for money-saving tips but often struggled with our finances. However, at the company he’d been with for the past three years, he seemed to get along with his colleagues. I had faint hopes he might stay there for a long time.

Then one day, James came home earlier than usual. “I’m home. I quit my job,” he said.
“What? Again?” I said, surprised. James’ eyebrows twitched. I stopped cooking and rushed over to him. “I’m sorry, I was just shocked,” I said.

“No ‘welcome back,’ and you’re criticizing what I do? You’ve become quite bold,” James said. His words made me freeze.
James was in a very bad mood, and if I said the wrong thing, it could get worse. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“As long as you understand,” he replied somewhat placated. He sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. I quietly placed a beer and a glass on the table.
“Do you want dinner or a bath?” I asked.
“Food and alcohol,” he replied.

He replied. To avoid upsetting James, I played the role of a submissive wife. I once had a strong sense of self, but after 16 years of marriage to James, since the age of 30, I really showed my true self.

After eating and drinking to his heart’s content, James fell asleep, snoring on the sofa. The table was a mess, like a child had eaten there. I cleaned up the fallen beer bottles and food scraps on the floor.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Recalling my dreams of a happy married life from my girlhood days, my true feelings slipped out. I glanced at James suddenly, but he showed no signs of waking. Relief washed over me, but I also felt dread about continuing this life.

Maybe I should consider divorce. I started planning my schedule for the next day, determined to face the issues I had been avoiding.

The next day, James started visiting the employment office and quickly secured another job. While he was job hunting, I went to the city office and signed the divorce papers. I wasn’t ready to submit them, but having them felt like a kind of protection. I hid the signed divorce papers at the bottom of my bag. If James found them, who knows what he might say or do?

“Hey, where did you go while I was job hunting?” he asked.
“I went to the stationary store to buy some resumes. Look, I thought you might need them,” I said, trying to sound normal.

James, who got home before I did, initially interrogated me suspiciously but quickly cheered up. I handed him the resumes I had bought earlier. After receiving them, James said he was going out for drinks with a friend and left.

One day, I received a call from my mother. After a long time, hearing her excited story took me by surprise.
“$10 million?” I asked, stunned.

“Yes, 10 million. You know the mountains and lands we owned? We don’t need them anymore. We had them appraised, and they are worth 15 million. We only need 3 million to enjoy the rest of our lives. So I think you might want to rethink your life too,” she said.

My mother was never fond of James. She was worried about me, especially after James became more controlling, preventing me from even visiting my childhood home.

I was stunned by the amount she mentioned. Furthermore, I was shocked to learn that when my mother inherited the property from my grandmother, she changed the title to my name so there were no inheritance taxes.

“It’s better not to tell James, but the final decision is yours,” she said, hanging up the phone.
I felt conflicted between the urge to immediately inform James and the desire to live freely with that money.

About a week later, I was involved in a traffic accident. Thankfully, my life wasn’t in danger, but I’d need to stay in the hospital for about a week. After storing my valuables in the hospital room drawer, I immediately contacted James.

“I’m sorry I got injured,” I said.
“Huh? What about my meals?” James’s reaction made me almost laugh. Prioritizing his meals over my injury.

“I’ll need to be hospitalized for a week. I’m really sorry, but could you buy your meals elsewhere until then?” I replied.
“Not even preparing meals for your husband? What a lazy wife. Oh, wait, I’m coming over now,” James said and ended the call abruptly.

I was planning to tell him about the inheritance tonight, but now I thought it might be best not to mention it. Looking at all the tubes attached to me, I had a feeling my intuition was right.

“You’re useless. Can’t even do housework. Let’s get a divorce, and you better pay me compensation too,” James said with a smirk as soon as he entered the hospital room.

“Fine, here’s the divorce papers,” I said. I couldn’t stay with a man who would hurl abuse at his wife in this poor condition. I handed him the divorce papers I had kept as a sort of charm.

James took them with a smug smile on his face. “With this, I can finally say goodbye to you. I’m going to be happy with her, right Patricia?” James said, wrapping his arm around the girl’s waist.

Because I was connected to several machines, I didn’t recognize a girl standing beside him. The girl, named Patricia, leaned against James and scoffed at me. “Take care, Madam. Oh, you’re not a Madam anymore, so take care, old lady,” she said.

With those words, they both left the room laughing, but their joy would be short-lived. Left alone in my room, I burst out laughing.

Today is Friday, so the divorce papers will only be processed on Monday. Just as I had expected, the weekend went by without any contact from James, and it was quite peaceful. I was restless, and not used to doing anything. Since getting married, I have always been busy. Every time I got restless, the nurses told me to stay calm.

Then, on Monday evening, I received a bunch of calls from James. I ignored them at first, but after 15 minutes of constant ringing, I decided to answer. “Could you not be so persistent?” I said.

“Hey, what’s the meaning of this?” James shouted as soon as I picked up.
I couldn’t help but laugh. James seemed infuriated by my laughter and started screaming incoherently.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Don’t play dumb! The divorce papers aren’t being accepted, are they?” James was huffing and puffing on the other side of the phone.

I continued calmly, “Oh, I had previously filed a non-acceptance notification. Remember how you used to say ‘let’s get divorced’ every time we had a fight? I thought it wouldn’t be good if you filed for divorce on a whim during one of our arguments.”

“Ugh! But I don’t need that now! Withdraw it immediately!” James demanded.
“I can’t do that until I’m discharged. We need to go through procedures at the municipal office,” I said.

“Then discharge now! Don’t be unreasonable!” His selfish demands made me laugh even more. He probably wanted to register his marriage with Patricia, whom he brought on Friday.

“By the way, was her name Patricia? She’s your mistress, right?”
“Hey, that’s rude to Patricia! Apologize! She’s my new wife.” He screamed.

“We are not divorced yet, so she’s technically your mistress, isn’t she?” I responded calmly.
James made a weird groaning sound. I decided to hit him where it hurt the most.

“By the way, you’ll hear from my lawyer about the division of property. That’s right, property, including this trouble. You better share properly.”
I’m not sure why he misunderstood, but James suddenly sounded in high spirits. “After all, the responsible party has to pay the compensation.”

“I had always done my household chores diligently, and of course, I had never cheated on you. It’s clear as day that you are the responsible party!” I said.
“What are you misunderstanding? You’re the one who has to give me the assets!” James responded, genuinely confused.

He likely believed that by not taking care of him while I was hospitalized, I would truly be at fault. Even in my parents’ time, one wouldn’t be deemed at fault for such a reason, I bitterly thought, as I listened to his rant.

I explained to him patiently, “What fault of mine are you talking about? Just so you know, not being able to do housework because I’m in the hospital doesn’t make me at fault. You’ve abandoned taking care of me. If you were a child, it would be considered male neglect, but you’re an adult and should be able to take care of yourself. That’s why it doesn’t make me at fault. If I say you’re at fault, then you’re at fault.”

James insisted, “Even a judge would be shocked by your baffling logic.”
I pictured myself facepalming. Did he really think such childish reasoning would work?

“Don’t you know what’s legally defined as grounds for fault? Being at fault means things like infidelity, like having another woman despite having a wife. That’s why Patricia is my new wife, and you’re no longer of any use to me, so it doesn’t apply, right?”

“What are you talking about? Since you were dating her behind my back, it’s clearly cheating!” I said.
James still didn’t seem to understand. He was set on believing he was right.

“Either way, please communicate through a lawyer from now on. Goodbye.” I hung up the call.
He called multiple times, but when I ignored him, he eventually gave up and went silent. I was relieved, but the next day, another headache-inducing event occurred.

Feeling frustrated by the non-stop ringing from 9:00 in the morning, I pressed the call button. On the other end, James was complaining at me like a machine gun. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was saying, but piecing it together, it seemed he was complaining about not being able to withdraw money from a bank account. “Were you trying to take money from my account?”

“Exactly! You’re still in the hospital, and I was going to take the money from the account, but the card won’t work!” James rumbled on with his unreasonable argument.

When I was scheduled to be hospitalized for a week, I had called the bank and requested they prevent withdrawals until I was discharged. I could handle it personally after being discharged. It was to prevent James, who was reckless with money, from depleting my savings while I was in the hospital.

My decision was proven right. It’s unthinkable to try to withdraw money from the account of an ex-wife you’ve divorced. However, James didn’t see anything wrong with it and asked me to make a withdrawal immediately.

“What are you talking about? We are practically strangers now. Why would I do as you say?” I replied.
“You and my life haven’t changed. Even if we’re getting divorced, act like a proper wife and listen to me,” James insisted.

“We are not legally divorced yet, but we are already strangers. Got it? Unfortunately, I don’t have money to give to strangers,” I said.
James was shocked, since I had never resisted him this much before. But he quickly became assertive again.
“Just do as I say! Send the money now! Pay the compensation for not doing housework!” he demanded.

Even though he was academically capable when we first met, he seemed to lack common sense. Eighteen years into our marriage, it was clear I had made a poor choice in a partner.

James seemed frustrated that I wasn’t giving in. He likely had exhausted his cash on hand and probably dipped into the living expenses I had left at home and from our shared account.

I spoke to James as if I was talking to a small child. “Listen, I’m no longer your submissive wife. We’ll settle a property division through a lawyer later on.”
“What? You’re so insolent! I’m coming over right now! Just wait!” James said, hanging up the phone.

I didn’t mind if he came to the hospital, but I had already asked the nurse’s station not to let anyone in except for my parents. So, it was unlikely he’d make it to my room.

James really did come to the hospital, but as expected, he was stopped at the nurse’s station. My phone kept ringing, but after ignoring it for a while, it switched to messages, and my screen was flooded with notifications.

I saved all of them as evidence and contacted my lawyer. After a while, it seemed the lawyer had gotten in touch with James, as the messages stopped coming in. I thought it was the end, but my hopes were about to be dashed.

“There’s a visitor named Julia. Would you like to see her?” A nurse said.

“Julia? Please, let her in.” Julia was a friend who shared my hobbies back then when I was single. Julia and I became close after she responded to my posts on social media where I shared my dining experiences. We discovered we lived nearby and often went out to eat together.

After getting married, I couldn’t dine out as much to save money, but we kept in touch by regularly meeting for tea and chats.
“Nicole, are you okay from the injury?” Julia asked as soon as she entered the room.

“Yes, I’m feeling much better now, thank you,” I replied.
Julia’s immediate concern warmed my heart. I realized that since my hospitalization, aside from my parents and the hospital staff, no one had shown concern for me.

“Hey, Nicole, things are tough for you right now, aren’t they?” Julia asked.
“Huh? Why?” I hadn’t told anyone about my situation other than my parents. I wondered how Julia knew and asked her intrigued.

Julia then said something shocking. “You know Patricia, the young girl, right? She’s having an affair with your husband, isn’t she?”

“What? How do you know about that? Wait, you know her?” I asked.
“Actually, she’s my niece,” Julia replied hesitantly.

I was so surprised that I couldn’t close my mouth. Who would have thought that Julia was Patricia’s aunt? The room went silent. It was the first time there was silence when Julia was around, and it made me feel uneasy.

“Patricia suddenly told her mother, my sister, that she’s getting married. What’s more shocking is that her partner is 47 years old. When I saw the photo, it was your husband. I was so surprised. I’ve already told my sister. I’m so sorry for all the trouble my niece has caused you.”

“Nicole, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” I said.
Julia looked like she was about to cry.
“I’m thinking of demanding compensation from Patricia. I can’t compromise on that. But if I do, does this mean our relationship will end?” I asked.

“Of course not. I want to continue being friends with you, Nicole. I’ll make sure Patricia pays compensation. Neither my sister nor I can forgive what she’s done. We’ll keep a close eye on her.” She said.

I was very grateful for Julia’s words. We’ve been friends for over 22 years. I didn’t want to lose a precious friend because of my terrible husband and his mistress.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with them tomorrow, and I’d like you to come with me,” Julia said.
“Of course I’ll be there. And I can also provide photos as evidence of their affair.”

The next day, fresh from being discharged from the hospital, I prepared for the meeting. I went to a private restaurant room with my lawyer. James and Patricia had already arrived and were indulging in an expensive traditional meal. I was speechless at their audacity.

“You finally made it! Did you bring the money? Remember, you were paying for this meal,” James said, without even stopping his meal. Patricia continued to eat with a smug look on her face.

I decided to fight back. “Please handle the payment yourselves. I came here to demand a fair share of the assets from the two of you.”
“How long are you going to sulk? You’re really unattractive,” James remarked rudely.

Ignoring his comments, my lawyer and I took our seats and showed evidence proving James was at fault.

We first presented legal documents about the reasons for liability, followed by documents on property division. Lastly, we showed the photos Julia had provided, which showed Patricia and James together, as well as Patricia with another man entering a hotel.

“Hey Patricia, what is this?” James and Patricia were visibly shaken by the photos and finally stopped eating.
Just then, Julia made her timely entrance. “I took those photos,” Julia said.

Patricia seemed confused as to why her aunt was present. With cold eyes, Julia looked down at Patricia and James and calmly spoke about being friends with me for 22 years and how their actions were despicable.

“Patricia, you mentioned that the baby you’re carrying is his, but given your actions, who knows who the father is?”

“Wait, no, I…” This was the first time I was hearing about her pregnancy. Judging by her appearance today, one would never guess she was pregnant. However, James’s reaction showed he believed her claim.

“So, you’re pregnant? In that case, after a DNA test, I’ll demand an additional penalty,” I said.
“No, I’m sorry, I lied about the pregnancy. Please forgive me,” Patricia suddenly admitted, bowing deeply.

She had been searching for wealthy old men, and James was her target. He bought her designer goods and promised her a life where she wouldn’t have to work and could do as she pleased. She believed she could be a housewife and occasionally have flings with men of her choice.

She had once lied about being pregnant because James showed no signs of wanting to divorce.
James froze with his mouth agape when he heard this. “I’m truly sorry, but I can’t give you anything. I don’t have the money,” he said.

“I’ll pay in advance, Patricia. You’re going to work part-time diligently every month and repay me. You won’t have any free time until you’ve paid me back in full,” Julia said firmly.
“Oh no…” Patricia looked disheartened.

Julia mentioned she would bring Patricia back later for another apology and took her out of the restaurant. James, in shock the entire time, seemed to snap back to reality and approached me in a flattering tone.

“Look, it seems I was deceived. I can’t live without you, Nicole. Right? We still have the divorce papers here, can we start over? You’ve always been a housewife, so you can’t possibly work now, can you?” he pleaded.

I listened to James’s pleas with a cold gaze, none of which moved me. I waited for him to finish before answering with a smile. “I can live just fine without you. I’ll be taking the divorce papers and filing them shortly. Also, I never mentioned this, but my personal net worth is currently around $10 million, so I can live comfortably without working for the rest of my life. Rest assured.”

“10 million? Why did you keep such a fortune a secret?” James asked, shocked.
“I was about to tell you when you started making a fuss about divorce. This money is my personal inheritance, so it doesn’t count towards marital assets. It has nothing to do with you,” I replied.

James looked at me with utter despair. My lawyer quickly produced some documents and a pen for James to sign. The lawyer and I then left and immediately filed for divorce, ending our almost 22-year marriage.

Later, Patricia transferred some money to my account. According to Julia, upon learning of this incident, Patricia’s mother was furious. She made Patricia take a leave from university and work non-stop at a relative’s inn until she paid the compensation.

James, on the other hand, was disowned by his in-laws after they learned about the divorce. He was told he wouldn’t receive any assistance, so he reluctantly took out a loan and paid me in one lump sum.

Furthermore, it was revealed that he had been with Patricia at a hotel during work hours. He was fired from his job and is now juggling multiple construction jobs to repay his debts.

As for me, even after receiving such a large sum, I didn’t know what to spend it on, so I donated half to charity. I then moved to the countryside with the remaining money, and I’m now enjoying a luxurious single life.

This story draws inspiration from real-life events and individuals, but it has been adapted and fictionalized for creative expression. Names, characters, and specific details have been altered to protect individuals’ privacy and to enhance the storyline. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is coincidental and unintentional.