His Mother's Treatment Fees

After being with Howard for two years, I already knew all about him. He always said his family was ordinary, and I never thought about making a big deal out of it. After all, in love, what matters most is the heart, not the family background. The first time he mentioned meeting his parents, I felt a kind of indescribable anticipation. I imagined countless scenarios—maybe a cozy home-style restaurant, or the old house they'd lived in for most of their lives. But when he parked the car in front of that private sanatorium downtown, I was stunned. "My mom's not in great health; she's been getting treatment here." He scratched his head, his tone tinged with a barely noticeable nervousness. I nodded, and when I pushed open the car door, my palms were unexpectedly sweaty. The ward was filled with a faint scent of disinfectant, but it couldn't hide the expensive fragrance lingering in the air. Howard's mother was half-leaning on the hospital bed, her hair impeccably styled, and her makeup so flawless that you couldn't tell her real age. She didn't greet me with the usual warm smile of an elder; instead, her scrutinizing eyes sized me up from head to toe, as if appraising a product. I was just about to say hello, when she had already grabbed a stack of bills from the bedside cabinet and casually handed them to me. "These are my recent medical expenses for health treatments. You go ahead and pay them first." Her tone was as flat as if she were ordering a waiter, without a trace of politeness. I instinctively glanced at the total amount, and that string of numbers made my breath catch—almost five hundred thousand. My mind felt like it'd been hit by something, and I blurted out, "Why should I?" Her face darkened instantly, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes all tightening. "This is a test for you." "My son is a department manager at a publicly listed company. Tons of girls are lining up to marry him." "You should feel lucky." "Asking you to spend a little money to show your sincerity is giving you a chance. Don't be ungrateful." With every word she said, my heart grew colder. Looking at her acting so naturally entitled, I suddenly found it kind of ridiculous. She probably had no idea that Howard's so-called proud manager position was actually at a subsidiary of my brother's company. I've even seen his resume in my brother's office. I turned my gaze to Howard, hoping to catch even a flicker of resistance in his eyes. But he just kept his head down, fingers twisting the hem of his shirt, unable to say a single word for what felt like forever. That tiny spark of hope in my heart felt like it had been doused with a bucket of ice water, completely frozen over. I took a deep breath and spoke again, my voice soft but carrying an unshakable firmness: "I'm not paying this money." Howard's mother, like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on, instantly raised her voice, the IV tube in her hand even trembling. "What kind of attitude is that?" "You dare talk back to your elders before even marrying into my family? If you really marry into this family, you would bully me to death." Only then did Howard hurriedly grab my hand, his tone clearly pleading, "Ruby, don't be like this." "My mom really hasn't had it easy." "When she was young, she worked all sorts of odd jobs from dawn till dusk to pay for my schooling, and now she's just trying to take care of her health. Can't you cut her some slack?" I jerked my hand away hard, my fingertips turning white from the grip. "She hasn't had it easy? That's because of you. What does that have to do with me?" "I'm here to be your girlfriend, not your family's ATM."