Phoenix and Nessa pull into the driveway with crinkling takeout bags and silent hugs. No one says a word. No questions, only the quiet clatter of chopsticks and the softpopof a wine cork.
They serve my favorite meal without asking: extra egg rolls, beef and broccoli, and jasmine rice. Then they pour wine into mismatched glasses. The silence around the table thickens. I draw a breath like I’m prepping for a boardroom pitch instead of delivering the details of my imploding life.
“Sam gave our entire savings, $75,000, to Holly,” I say flatly. “So she can open her own salon.” I scoff and continue. “And I guess Mandy too. Apparently, she’sone of his favorite girls.”
Chopsticks freeze. Eyes widen. It’s like someone pulled the fire alarm.
I keep going, voice detached, like it’s someone else’s story: the overheard conversation, the gut-punch of hearingonly moneyleave his mouth. Not to mention the assumption I have nowhere else to go.
Phoenix is the first to speak. “Are you sure you heard him right? You said his back was to you …”
I already have the banking app open. I hold up the screen: balance $37.82. Transfer: Holly Hughes. Two days ago.
Nessa shoots out of her chair. “Thatalpha-hole! And for a half-baked salon fantasy? Is this a Hallmark movie? A woman has a dream but no qualifications. Plus, there's a ditzy girl in love with her best friend's older brother! I mean, in fairness, I would watch that Christmas special, but I digress."
Mack leans in, eyes hopeful. “Can you reverse the transfer?Like, if you call the bank? Does he even have the authority to transfer that kind of money without your knowledge?”
“Nope, no reversal. I already looked it up,” I say between depressing bites. “And yes, unfortunately, he can. It’s a joint account, we both have ownership of it." I pause, realizing something. "Sam knows I check the account during our monthly money dates. He sent it last week. Perfectly timed to buy himself a way to explain this.”
A silence settles. Then Mack speaks again, practical and steady. “Okay. First things first—do you need help covering anything this month? I’ve got a little saved, if it helps tide things over.”
God, these women.
“No, we’re okay,” I say softly. “We live lean. We’ve got a little saved in an untouched emergency fund; I checked. All the household bills are covered. Plus, both of us are still working." I pause, thinking. "Actually, I’m not sure if that’s true. Sam is starting work on the salon, which he isdefinitelynot getting paid for. If his other job is finished up, he might not be receiving a paycheck for a little while. Damn him." I take a deep breath. "But no, Mack, even with my idiot husband's stupid financial choice, we can still pay our bills. Thank you, though."
Mack nods, her tension easing.
Phoenix frowns, swirling her wine. “I just … don’t get it. That man is obsessed with you. The way he looks at you? Like you invented oxygen. I know Mandy is just a hanger-on.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You’d think that meant I could trust him.” Love and safety aren’t always the same thing. I learned that early.
They nod. They know my history. I've shared bits andpieces before. My grandpa drained all the accounts and then vanished. My mom spent a year couch-surfing at twelve years old. Financial instability runs in my blood like a second unwanted inheritance.
Despite that example, my mom never educated herself about money. To this day, she follows one piece of bad advice after another.
My chest aches. I press the wine glass to my lips and pretend I’m not shaking. “And I know there’s nothing between him and Mandy, as much as she tries. After Holly’s accident, Mandy has stayed close to her, and I know he only sees her as an extension of his sister.”
My friends nod. At least there's one infidelity I don't worry about. As I’m starting to spiral, Nessa chimes in.
“What’s the move?” she asks, perched on the edge of Mack’s couch. “If you want to go nuclear, I’ll grab the bleach and a pair of his favorite jeans. Subtle revenge? We dye his hair just enough that he thinks he’s going gray.”
I manage a laugh. “Please. He’d look even hotter gray. That’s only adding to my problems.”
“I knew it.” Mack shakes her head, smirking. “We’ve got a Capricorn on our hands. Needs exactly twenty-three minutes to wallow and then it’s time for war.”
I check the time. “Honestly? Yeah. I’ll give myself until the end of this glass of wine, then I’ll call him. Ask him to pick me up. Talk like adults.”
Like clockwork, my phone buzzes.
Sam
Hey, where you at, baby? I can’t find you.
I left. We need to talk later. I’ll call you when I’m ready.
“Stoic. Controlled. Badass,” Nessa says, reading over my shoulder. “Classic earth sign.”
We’re halfway through a wild tale of Nessa getting headbutted in goat yoga before someone starts banging on the front door.
