Chương 7
He paced once toward the sink and back.
“You stood outside and told everyone my business.”
“Our business.”
“You didn’t need to tell them about the money.”
“You didn’t need to tell them my body was embarrassing.”
His mouth tightened.
“That was a joke.”
“No.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“You didn’t.”
He stopped.
I watched him search his memory.
He had not apologized.
Not once.
“Fine.”
He exhaled.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came too late and too neatly.
I felt nothing.
Julian saw that.
“You wanted me to say it.”
“I wanted you not to do it.”
He stared at me.
I looked toward the cake.
“Take that with you.”
“What?”
“The cake.”
He almost laughed.
“You’re serious?”
“I don’t want to look at it tomorrow.”
“Claire.”
“It has your name on it.”
For some reason, that was the moment my eyes filled.
Not the secret income.
Not the apartment application.
The cake.
I turned away before he could see.
He saw anyway.
“Hey.”
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to—”
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped several feet away.
I pressed the heel of my hand against one eye.
“I have spent two years trying to save a life you had already decided you didn’t want.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not.”
I dropped my hand.
“But it’s how it feels.”
Julian looked down.
“I did want it.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good answer.”
“I mean it.”
He swallowed.
“Some days I wanted out.”
His voice was quieter now.
“Some days I wanted you.”
“That is not the compliment you think it is.”
“I’m not trying to compliment you.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
He looked at me for a long time.
“Tell the truth before there’s nothing left worth telling it to.”
I did not answer.
He went upstairs to pack.
I stayed in the kitchen and threw away melted ice from drink buckets because apparently even marriages could end while somebody still had to deal with standing water.
Ten minutes later, Mara texted that the children were asleep.
I told her I would come in the morning.
She replied with three words.
Lock the doors.
I stared at the message longer than necessary.
Julian came downstairs carrying a duffel bag and the cake box.
He had changed into jeans and a gray T-shirt.
He looked ordinary.
That felt offensive.
At the doorway, he stopped.
“I’ll send the statements.”
“Tonight.”
He nodded.
“And Claire.”
I waited.
“There’s something else in that account.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“It isn’t all mine.”
I said nothing.
He looked toward the driveway where Nathan’s truck had disappeared.
“About twenty thousand belongs to Nathan’s company.”
My hands went cold again.
“Why is company money in your personal account?”
Julian gripped the cake box harder.
“That’s the part I was trying to fix before you found out.”
For several seconds, I could not decide whether the sentence was absurd or terrifying.
“What do you mean, company money?”
Julian looked toward the front door as if he might still escape without answering.
“Not stolen.”
“That was not my question.”
“I didn’t steal it.”
His insistence landed badly enough that my stomach turned.
“Then explain why twenty thousand dollars belonging to your brother’s company is sitting in an account under your name.”
He shifted the cake box against his hip.
“It was a reimbursement issue.”
“That means nothing.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
He looked exhausted.
I was past caring.
“Nathan’s company had a vendor problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“One of the smaller carriers stopped servicing a route with almost no notice.”
“And?”
“And Nathan needed somebody to cover deliveries for a few weeks.”
I stared at him.
“You?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I arranged it.”
“With who?”
“A contractor I knew from my old job.”
“Why would that put money in your account?”
Julian looked toward the floor.
“Because the contractor couldn’t get onboarded fast enough through Nathan’s accounting system.”
I waited.
“So I paid him.”
“With your money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“About twenty thousand.”
“And Nathan reimbursed you.”
“Yes.”
“Into the account you were hiding from me.”
Julian’s silence answered for him.
“That still means the money is yours if it was reimbursement.”
“Not exactly.”
I felt my shoulders tense.
“What exactly?”
“There was an overpayment.”
“How much?”
“Most of it.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“Why would his company overpay you by twenty thousand dollars?”
“It wasn’t supposed to go to me personally.”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
“Where was it supposed to go?”
“To the contractor.”
I set both palms on the counter.
“Then why didn’t you send it to him?”
Julian looked at me.
“He disappeared.”
I almost laughed again.
“Disappeared.”
“Stopped answering.”
“People don’t disappear because you owe them twenty thousand dollars.”
“I didn’t owe him twenty thousand.”
“You just said—”
“I already paid him.”
He put the cake box down on the counter with more force than necessary.
“The reimbursement was entered twice.”
I frowned.
“Once to me?”
“Yes.”
“And once to him?”
“Yes.”
“So he got paid twice?”
“No.”
Julian rubbed his forehead.
“The second payment to him was reversed.”
“Then reverse yours.”
“That’s what I was trying to do.”
“For how long?”
He did not answer.
“Julian.”
“Six weeks.”
I stared at him.
“You have accidentally had twenty thousand dollars of company money for six weeks.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It sounds extremely simple.”
“It isn’t.”
“Did Nathan know?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I looked toward the empty driveway.
“You told him there was more tonight.”
“I didn’t tell him what.”
“So he doesn’t know you have his money.”
“No.”
“Does the company know?”
Julian’s jaw worked.
“Accounting flagged it.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The sentence beneath the sentence.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
I opened my eyes again.
“The day before your birthday party.”
“Yes.”
“And what happened?”
“They asked Nathan about the duplicate.”
“What did he say?”
“That he’d look into it.”
“Did he call you?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him?”
