Chương 8
“That I thought it had been corrected.”
“You lied.”
“I panicked.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
I felt suddenly cold despite the heat that still clung to the kitchen from the open doors.
“And this morning, after I found the bank statement, you called Nathan.”
“Yes.”
“To ask him to cover for you.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“Not about the money.”
“What then?”
“About the job.”
I stared at him.
He lifted his hands.
“I wasn’t asking him to cover the account.”
“You keep finding very specific distinctions inside very large lies.”
He winced.
I picked up my phone.
His attention sharpened.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Nathan.”
“No.”
The word came out hard.
I looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Let me tell him.”
“You had six weeks.”
“Claire.”
“You had four months to tell me you were working.”
“I know.”
“You had nearly a year to tell me you were saving money to leave.”
“I know.”
“You had six weeks to return money that wasn’t yours.”
“It is not like I spent it.”
“That is not the standard.”
He stepped toward me.
“Please.”
I had heard Julian say please many times in our marriage.
Usually it meant hand me the salt or stop bringing this up or can we not do this tonight.
This one sounded different.
It sounded frightened.
“Why haven’t you returned it?”
His face changed.
There was the answer before the answer.
I lowered the phone.
“You can’t.”
He said nothing.
“You spent it.”
“No.”
“Then why can’t you return it?”
“I can return most of it.”
The floor seemed to shift beneath my feet.
“How much is gone?”
“Claire.”
“How much?”
“About seven.”
“Seven hundred?”
He looked at me.
My throat tightened.
“Seven thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
I stepped away from him.
“What did you spend seven thousand dollars of your brother’s company money on?”
“I didn’t know it was company money when I used it.”
“You just told me it was a duplicate reimbursement.”
“I didn’t know at first.”
“When did you know?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“And how much had you spent by then?”
“All of it.”
I laughed once, then covered my mouth.
Not because anything was funny.
Because my body had run out of appropriate reactions.
Julian looked miserable.
“You can hate me.”
“I am trying to understand basic arithmetic.”
“I moved some money around.”
“What does that mean?”
“I paid the security deposit on an apartment.”
The kitchen went silent again.
I lowered my hand.
“You said you didn’t sign a lease.”
“I didn’t then.”
“Then.”
He closed his eyes.
“I signed one last month.”
I stared at him.
There was a faint buzzing in my ears.
“Last month.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.”
“Where downtown?”
“Claire.”
“Where?”
He gave me the address.
I knew the building.
Glass balconies.
A rooftop pool.
A lobby with plants so large they looked rented.
I had driven past it two weeks earlier on my way home from picking up discounted school supplies.
“How much?”
“Twenty-six hundred a month.”
For one second, I genuinely thought I had misheard him.
“Our mortgage is twenty-eight.”
“I know.”
“You rented an apartment for almost the same amount as our mortgage.”
“It’s smaller.”
“That is your defense?”
“No.”
“Then what is?”
He did not answer.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
Mara.
I ignored it.
“When were you planning to move?”
Julian looked at the cake.
“After Sophie started kindergarten.”
I stared at him.
That was three weeks away.
“You had a date.”
“No.”
“You had a plan.”
“I had an idea.”
“You signed a lease.”
His shoulders dropped.
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else live there?”
“No.”
“Have you been staying there?”
“Sometimes.”
The word cut through me cleanly.
“When?”
“Late nights.”
“You told me you were at Nathan’s warehouse.”
“Sometimes I was.”
“And sometimes you were sleeping in an apartment I didn’t know existed.”
“Yes.”
I turned away.
The refrigerator motor clicked off, and the sudden quiet made the room feel unreal.
On the counter sat a tray of burger buns, still covered in plastic.
I had bought too many.
I noticed that and hated myself for noticing it.
“What did you buy for the apartment?”
“What?”
“Furniture?”
“A bed.”
“Of course.”
“A table.”
“Anything else?”
“Not much.”
“With what money?”
“Mine.”
“Your hidden money.”
“Yes.”
“Except seven thousand dollars that wasn’t yours.”
“I didn’t know that part wasn’t mine when I used it.”
I turned back.
“Stop saying that like it makes this less insane.”
“I’m trying to explain.”
“You are explaining in layers.”
He flinched.
“Every answer has another trapdoor under it.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Do not say that anymore.”
He pressed his lips together.
My phone vibrated again.
This time it was Nathan.
I stared at his name.
Julian saw it.
“Please let me call him first.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
I answered.
Nathan spoke immediately.
“Is he still there?”
I looked at Julian.
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Selina and I are at Mom’s.”
His voice sounded strained.
“Okay.”
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
Another pause.
“Fair.”
I almost smiled despite myself.
Then I looked at Julian.
“Nathan, I need to ask you something.”
Julian shook his head once.
I ignored him.
“Did your accounting department contact you yesterday about a duplicate payment?”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Silence.
“Nathan?”
“Yes.”
Julian turned away.
“What did they tell you?”
“That a reimbursement had duplicated and one payment was still outstanding.”
“Whose name?”
“They didn’t tell me at first.”
I gripped the phone tighter.
“Do you know now?”
Nathan inhaled.
“Julian told me this afternoon that accounting had made a mistake involving one of his contractors.”
I looked at my husband.
“You told him that.”
Julian stared at the wall.
Nathan continued.
“He said he was helping them straighten it out.”
“Did he tell you the money went into his personal account?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you some of it is gone?”
There was a long pause.
“What?”
Julian turned.
“Claire.”
I held up one hand.
May you like
Nathan’s voice changed.
“How much is gone?”
