Chapter 3 - The Lie Before Breakfast
Claire read the statement twice.
Then a third time.
Ethan could hear Noah humming to himself on the floor, unaware that the temperature in the hallway had dropped ten degrees.
“Tell me this isn’t real,” Claire said.
“It’s real.”
Her head snapped up. “That was the renovation fund.”
“I know.”
“That was four years of overtime, birthday money, tax refunds, everything we said we were building.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know.”
Noah looked at her voice. Claire immediately softened her face, which somehow made Ethan feel worse.
She picked Noah up and carried him back to the living room. Ethan followed.
“Who did you send it to?” she asked.
“Ryan.”
Claire froze.
“No.”
“He had a deal.”
“Ryan has had eleven ‘deals’ since I met him.”
“This one looked legitimate.”
“Did you sign something?”
“Yes.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
The silence that followed was sharp and clean.
Claire put Noah in his play area and turned around.
“You moved eighty-four thousand dollars out of an account with both our names on it, without telling me.”
“I thought I could double it.”
“You thought you could gamble with our future.”
“It wasn’t gambling.”
“Where is the money now?”
Ethan had no answer.
Claire folded her arms. “And what else haven’t you told me?”
He looked away.
Her face changed.
“Oh my God.”
“Claire—”
“What else?”
He forced the words out. “I got laid off.”
She stared at him.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You left this house every morning for three weeks.”
“I went to the library, coffee shops, interviews—”
“You kissed me goodbye and pretended you were going to work.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“No. You were trying to control what I knew.”
That one landed.
Noah started stacking wooden blocks, one on top of another.
Claire walked to the bedroom.
Ethan followed. “Where are you going?”
She pulled a small suitcase from the closet.
His stomach dropped.
“Claire.”
“I’m not leaving forever.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“I need one night where I’m not finding out my husband has been living a second life.”
She opened the dresser.
Then stopped.
Inside, on top of her folded shirts, was a white envelope Ethan had never seen before.
Claire picked it up.
Her name was written across the front.
Inside was a photograph of Ryan meeting a man outside a bank.
May you like
On the back, in block letters, someone had written:
ASK ETHAN WHO REALLY OWNS THE MONEY.\n\nEthan wanted to tell her about every interview application he had sent, every spreadsheet he had made, every night he had lain awake doing the math. None of it mattered. Effort performed in secret was not trust. It was just another private room inside a marriage that was already running out of open doors.
