My Ex-husband Threw Us Out During A Storm Because Our Son Was A “defective Product.” 18 Years Later, He Crawled Into My Son’s Hospital Begging For His Life. Who Is The “defective” One Now?

The Tables Have Turned

18 years ago, my husband threw us out like trash because my son was disabled. He laughed at my suffering and chose another woman.

Today, the tables have turned. I have returned to watch him crumble piece by piece, right in front of the son he once despised.

The smell of antiseptic and industrial floor cleaners stung my nostrils. But this was not the scent of an ordinary hospital. This was the aroma of luxury emanating from the platinum wing of Lakeside General, the best private hospital in Chicago.

I sat calmly on the cream-colored leather sofa. My hands held a health magazine, but my eyes weren’t really reading the words. I glanced at the gold watch circling my wrist.

The hands pointed to 10:00 a.m. He should have arrived by now. Someone I hadn’t seen in 18 years. Someone who was once the center of my world before he smashed it all to dust.

My name is Eleanor. I used to be just a frumpy stay-at-home mom. I spent my days in the kitchen and caring for a sick child. But look at me now.

I was wearing a tailored burgundy pantsuit. My hair was perfectly styled, my shoes gleaming. The weak Eleanor was gone.

The automatic glass doors at the front of the lobby slid open. A gust of wind blew in. I saw the figure. He hobbled.

His appearance was a far cry from my memory. He used to be handsome, well-built, and always proud of his physique. Now his back was slightly hunched, his skin dull and shallow.

His once thick hair was now thin and graying. He wore a frayed shirt, its color faded. His slacks looked too big for him, as if his body had shrunk drastically.

It was Mark, my ex-husband. He wasn’t alone. A woman stood beside him, looking annoyed. That must be Bella, the woman who stole Mark from me.

Bella also looked old and tired. Her once heavily made-up face was now lined and weary. They looked like a couple defeated by life.

The Encounter

Mark walked toward the reception desk. He argued quietly with the administrative clerk. I could hear his raspy voice.

He coughed several times, a deep, painful-sounding cough. It was the sign of a body being ravaged by disease. I closed my magazine and placed it on the table.

I stood up and straightened my jacket. I deliberately walked across the path they would have to take. My steps were firm.

The sound of my heels clicked against the marble floor. Click, clack, click. Mark turned when he heard my footsteps.

His eyes narrowed. He looked me up and down. At first, he seemed confused. He probably thought I was one of the doctors or a hospital executive.

But when our eyes met, I saw a flicker of recognition in his. His eyes widened; his mouth hung slightly open.

“Eleanor,” he called out hesitantly.

I stopped. I stared at him blankly. No smile, no anger, just the cold gaze of a stranger.

“Long time no see, Mark,” I replied curtly.

Mark let out a small, condescending laugh, just like he used to. He nudged Bella’s arm.

“Look Belle, it’s my ex-wife, the one we kicked out. Wow, you clean up nice. So what are you doing here? Are you on the cleaning crew now or selling insurance?”

My blood boiled at his insult, but I had trained myself for years for this moment. I couldn’t get emotional. Emotion was a sign of weakness.

“I’m here on business,” I answered calmly.

Mark stepped closer. The smell of cigarettes and sweat emanated from his body. He looked at me with a disgusting, probing stare.

“What business? Selling pretzels at the cafeteria stand?”

He laughed again, louder this time, causing a few other visitors to turn their heads.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Eleanor. I know where you came from. You’re just some small-town girl who got lucky marrying me.”

I remained silent, letting him spew his poison. The more he insulted me, the sweeter my revenge would be. Suddenly, his face twisted into a sneer. He looked around me as if searching for something.

“By the way,” he said in a contrived tone. “Where’s that crippled kid of yours?”

“What’s his name?” “Lo.” “Yeah, the one with the twisted leg.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. He could insult me, but insulting my son was a fatal mistake.

“He has a name, Mark,” I said sharply.

“Whatever.” Mark waved his hand dismissively. “He’s probably dead by now anyway. A sick kid like that couldn’t have lasted long, especially with a poor mother like you. He must have died because you couldn’t afford his medical bills, right?”

Bella giggled along.

“Come on, Mark. Don’t bring it up. I feel sorry for her. Maybe she’s here to ask for donations to pay off her son’s old medical debts.”

Mark roared with laughter, his voice echoing in the quiet lobby.

“Good point. Hey Eleanor, if your crippled kid is dead, that’s great. One less burden in your life. You should be thanking me for divorcing you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be free like this.”

The words slid so easily from his mouth. He called the potential death of his own flesh and blood a stroke of luck. He called my son a burden. Even the devil might blush at such evil words.

People around us started whispering. They looked at Mark with disapproval. But he didn’t care.

He felt he was the greatest. He felt he still had power over me, just like 18 years ago. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with calm.

I smiled faintly, a smile that made Mark stop laughing.

“You’re dead wrong, Mark,” I said softly but with emphasis.

“Wrong about what?” he challenged.

“My son is alive. He grew up to be a man far greater than his biological father ever was,” I replied.

Mark snorted.

“Greater? Greater at what? Begging at traffic lights with that leg? What kind of job could he possibly get?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” I said.

I glanced at my watch again.

“And one more thing, Mark. You’d better watch your mouth. This hospital has strict rules about decorum. You wouldn’t want to get thrown out before you’re even examined, would you?”

Mark’s face turned red. He didn’t like being lectured.

“Are you threatening me? Who do you think you are? I’m a patient here. I’m paying.”

“You’re paying?” I asked with a skeptical tone. “I heard you came here with a charity care application to ask for a fee reduction.”

Mark’s eyes bulged. He was shocked that I knew his secret. Bella immediately looked nervous.

“How did you know that?” Bella snapped.

I didn’t answer. I just shrugged.

“The walls here have ears. Anyway, enjoy your wait, Mark. I hope the doctor who sees you is kind.”

I turned my body and walked away, leaving them there.

“Hey! I’m not finished talking to you!” Mark yelled.

I didn’t look back. I continued walking toward the staff-only elevator. I swiped my access card. The elevator doors opened.

I stepped inside and turned around. Before the doors closed, I saw Mark still standing there, his face red with rage.

He knew nothing. He didn’t know he had just walked into the lion’s den. He didn’t know that the disabled child he mocked was in this very building.

He didn’t know that his very life now rested in our hands.