Chapter 4 - THE APARTMENT HE WAS PAYING FOR
Grant arrived home at 10:26 p.m.
He smelled of expensive cologne.
Not the one I had given him for Christmas.
A sharper fragrance, unfamiliar and deliberate.
He looked at me sitting at the dining table.
“Why are you still awake?”
“I was working.”
He glanced at my laptop.
“Working on what?”
“Some financial planning.”
He laughed.
“Getting nostalgic?”
I closed the laptop.
“No.”
He opened the refrigerator, frowned at the leftovers, and shut it again.
“Did you make anything fresh?”
“There's pasta from dinner.”
“I asked if you made anything fresh.”
I studied his face.
For months, I had thought Grant was simply overwhelmed by becoming a father.
But his contempt had become too consistent to explain away as exhaustion.
“Grant, I need to ask you something.”
He sighed.
“What now?”
“What's Northline Advisory?”
He froze.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Then he laughed.
“It's a consulting opportunity.”
“With Elise Parker?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I knew you'd overreact.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Overreact to what?”
“To me trying to create another income stream for this family.”
I looked at him.
“Then why did you take thirty-eight thousand five hundred dollars from our emergency savings without telling me?”
His expression hardened.
“You've been going through my accounts?”
“Our joint account.”
“Emily, I earn the money.”
The sentence hung between us.
I stared at him.
“So you believe I have no say in how our joint savings are used?”
“That's not what I said.”
“It's exactly what you said.”
He set his glass down.
“You're making this into a problem because you have too much time to sit around thinking.”
I felt a familiar urge to defend myself.
To explain how many hours I spent caring for Ivy.
To remind him that I had built a successful career long before we met.
To prove that I was still worth respecting.
Then I realized something.
I was tired of auditioning for my husband's respect.
“Why is Northline paying for Elise's apartment?”
Grant went completely still.
“Where did you hear that?”
“It's in the proposal.”
He stared at me.
“Those documents are confidential.”
“My name appears on the financing application.”
His expression changed.
Then he looked away.
“It's a relocation allowance. She's building the business.”
“And you're using our savings to finance it.”
“It's an investment.”
“Then why did you submit a home-equity application with my signature?”
His face drained.
I watched him search for an answer.
Finally, he said:
“The broker prepared the paperwork.”
“Did you tell the broker I had authorized it?”
Silence.
“Grant?”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I assumed you'd support the business once you understood the opportunity.”
I felt cold.
“You assumed you could sign for me.”
“I didn't sign anything.”
“Then who did?”
He didn't answer.
Then his expression hardened.
“You're turning a routine financing arrangement into a criminal investigation.”
“No. I'm asking you to explain a document bearing a signature I didn't provide.”
He picked up his keys.
“I can't do this tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“To Elise's apartment?”
He stopped.
Then slowly turned toward me.
For the first time, he looked genuinely furious.
“You know what your problem is?”
I said nothing.
“You can't stand that I'm building something while you're sitting at home.”
I stared at him.
Then he delivered the final blow.
“If you spent half as much energy being a good wife as you spend checking my finances, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”
He walked out.
I stood alone in the kitchen.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Then Ivy began crying upstairs.
And just like that, the conversation stopped mattering.
My daughter needed me.
I went upstairs, changed her diaper, and rocked her until she settled.
When she finally fell asleep, I opened my email.
A message from Michelle was waiting.
The healthcare group wanted to interview me for the senior financial planning position.
The interview was scheduled for Monday.
Then another message appeared.
This one came from our bank's fraud-review department.
The disputed home-equity application had been placed on hold.
And the application history showed something I hadn't expected.
May you like
The document containing my electronic signature had been uploaded from a computer registered to Northline Advisory.
The user account belonged to Elise Parker.
Related Stories
