“Leah, you’re destroying a family!”
“This is a marriage—this is what vows are!”
“Marcus, tell her to stop! Tell her!”
Marcus didn’t sound like himself when he spoke. “Leah… can we just talk? No police, no… no office people. Just you and me.”
I stepped into the bedroom and noticed the second drawer of the dresser standing open—my sock drawer. A stack of envelopes was tucked inside, shoved behind some old T-shirts.
My stomach turned cold.
I pulled them out. Past-due notices. A final warning from the utilities company. A letter from our mortgage lender about a delinquency I hadn’t known about.
I had been paying. Every month I transferred the money, trusting Marcus to handle the online portal the way he claimed. But the letters in my hands told a completely different story.
I walked back into the living room holding the stack.
“Marcus,” I said.
He looked up, hopeful for half a second. Then he saw the envelopes and his throat bobbed.
“What are these?” I asked.
Diane tried to intercept. “Those are—old. Don’t confuse yourself.”
I ignored her. “Our mortgage is behind?”
Marcus stood with his hands out as if he could catch the words before they landed. “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think,” I said. “Where did the money go?”
His eyes flicked toward Diane. It was a tiny movement, but it said everything. The same reflex he’d always had—look to Mom before answering.
Diane lifted her chin. “We needed help,” she said sharply. “Your husband has been under stress. He was trying to keep things afloat.”
“By lying?” I asked. “By opening credit cards in my name?”
Marcus’s voice cracked again. “I was going to fix it. I swear. Mom said it was temporary—”
“Mom said,” I repeated. I turned to Diane. “So how much did you take?”
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