My stomach turned.

Between sobs, he told me everything. After his promotion, he began spending recklessly—luxury apartments, expensive trips, designer clothes, dinners he couldn’t afford. He wanted to look successful. He wanted people to admire him.

Then he got sick.

A severe autoimmune condition.

Even with insurance, the medical bills piled up faster than he could pay them. Debt collectors started calling. His savings vanished. His credit cards maxed out.

“I was ashamed,” he admitted. “You sacrificed so much for me already, and I wasted everything.”

“So you tried to steal from me?”

“I panicked,” he said. “When you refused to help, I panicked.”

Part of me wanted to hang up.

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