Chương 2
Those numbers lived in my head because somebody had needed to keep them there.
“Yes,” I said.
Julian blinked.
“I keep score.”
He had expected denial.
“I keep score because bills have due dates.”
A nervous sound moved through the crowd, not quite laughter.
Julian’s cheeks reddened.
“You want applause for paying bills?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly is this?”
I looked at him for several seconds.
That was the question I had not answered for myself before taking the microphone.
I had walked toward the DJ booth with anger burning cleanly through me, imagining that once I started speaking, some perfect final sentence would appear.
It did not.
There was only my husband standing barefoot in wet swim trunks, the father of my children, looking at me as though I had broken an agreement by refusing to protect him.
“I don’t know,” I said.
The admission surprised everyone, including me.
“I think five minutes ago I wanted to embarrass you.”
Julian gave a bitter little laugh.
“Mission accomplished.”
“Maybe.”
I lowered the microphone slightly.
“But I’m standing here realizing embarrassment isn’t enough.”
Mara looked up at me.
Selina folded her arms across herself.
Nathan whispered something to her, and she shook her head.
Julian took one careful step closer.
“Then put the microphone down.”
I looked toward the house.
Through the glass doors I could see the kitchen island covered with serving trays, half-empty bottles, crumpled napkins, and the dinosaur cup Ben had abandoned before my mother took both children home for the night.
That stupid green cup nearly undid me.
I had washed it hundreds of times.
I had washed it while joining conference calls.
I had washed it while calculating overdraft risk.
I had washed it after arguments in which Julian told me I no longer made an effort.
I had washed it at midnight while he slept.
“I asked you something this morning,” I said.
Julian’s expression changed again.
It was tiny, but I saw it.
Nathan saw it too.
“What?” Nathan asked.
Julian ignored him.
I had found the envelope at seven fourteen that morning because I was searching the hall cabinet for birthday candles.
It had been shoved beneath a stack of old appliance manuals, addressed to Julian in the unmistakable blue-and-white stationery of a financial institution.
I had almost put it aside.
Then I saw the date.
Four months earlier.
I opened it.
I was not proud of opening his mail.
I was even less proud that the first thing I felt afterward was relief.
Not rage.
Relief.
Because numbers do not smirk at you.
Numbers do not tell you that you are imagining things.
The statement showed an account I had never known existed.
It showed regular deposits.
It showed a balance large enough to cover nearly seven months of our mortgage.
And it showed withdrawals made while I was transferring grocery purchases onto a credit card.
I looked at Julian.
“This morning, I asked whether you had any money I didn’t know about.”
Someone whispered near the bar.
Julian rubbed his forehead.
“This is unbelievable.”
“You said no.”
“Because I knew exactly what you’d do.”
My fingers tightened around the microphone.
“What would I do?”
“This.”
He pointed at the crowd.
“This insane public trial.”
“You lied before there was a public trial.”
“You invaded my privacy.”
“And you watched me borrow money from my sister.”
His eyes flicked toward Mara.
That was enough.
She stepped forward.
“How much?”
“Mara,” I said.
“How much money does he have?”
Julian turned on her.
“None of your business.”
“You made it my business when Claire borrowed twelve thousand dollars from me.”
A murmur passed through the guests.
My face burned.
I had not wanted that number spoken aloud.
Mara knew it immediately.
“Sorry,” she said, quieter.
Julian laughed once and shook his head.
“You two have always done this.”
“Done what?” Mara asked.
“Ganged up on me.”
Nathan came closer.
“Nobody’s ganging up on you.”
“Oh, spare me.”
Julian pointed toward him.
“You've been waiting for this since you got here.”
Nathan stared at him.
“Waiting for what?”
“For me to fail.”
The words landed differently from everything else.
For a moment, Julian looked less like the man who had mocked my body and more like someone cornered by a fear I had never understood.
Then his face hardened again.
He reached for the microphone.
I pulled away.
“Where did the money come from?” I asked.
His hand stopped.
The pool pump hummed behind us.
Somewhere beyond the fence, a dog barked twice.
“I told you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“It was severance.”
“The deposits started eleven months after your severance ended.”
His mother sat down.
Nathan looked from Julian to me.
“What deposits?”
Julian’s voice dropped.
“Claire, don't.”
There was fear in it now.
Real fear.
Not embarrassment.
I felt my anger shift into something colder.
“You told me you weren’t working.”
He stared at me.
“You told me nobody would hire you.”
“Claire.”
“You told me you were depressed.”
“I was.”
“I believed you.”
“I was depressed.”
“I begged you to see someone.”
His mouth opened, then closed.
I could hear myself breathing through the speakers.
“I took Ben to daycare with a fever because I had a client presentation and you said you had an interview.”
“I did have an interview.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Julian looked toward Nathan.
It was instinctive.
Quick.
Almost nothing.
Nathan went still.
Selina turned to her husband.
“What?”
Nathan’s face lost color.
“Why are you looking at me?”
Julian said nothing.
“Nathan,” I said.
He shook his head immediately.
“I don’t know.”
But Selina was watching him now.
“You do know something.”
“No.”
“You just made that face.”
“What face?”
“The face you make when you’re about to tell me something you should’ve told me six months ago.”
Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny.
Nobody laughed.
Nathan dragged both hands down his face.
“Jules, you need to tell her.”
May you like
My stomach tightened.
Julian stepped off the platform.
