MY HUSBAND TEXTED HIS MISTRESS WHILE I WAS GIVING BIRTH—THEN I FOUND THE NURSERY HE BUILT WITH OUR SAVINGS

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Chapter 4

THEME:
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At dawn, Garrett sent a photograph of the hospital entrance.

I'm still here. Please don't let one stupid message destroy our family.

I enlarged the picture without meaning to.

He had photographed the building, as though remaining near it proved something about what had happened inside.

A few minutes later, another message arrived.

I need to see my daughter.

I wanted Lucy to have a father who loved her. Even after everything, I wanted that so badly it hurt.

For a moment, I imagined letting him into the room. He would hold her, cry, and say something I could carry home.

Then my phone vibrated again.

We need to talk about your leave. We can't afford for you to stay home as long as we planned.

I stared at the words.

We had planned twelve weeks.

Part of it would be covered through my employer's benefits, and the rest would come from the money we'd spent years setting aside.

Last December, the reserve account had held $31,500.

Garrett handled the household transfers. I handled the regular bills and the payroll for more than four hundred employees at a regional supply company.

It had seemed like a fair division.

Whenever I asked about the reserve, he said it was fine.

Two nights earlier, while I folded newborn pajamas, he had assured me the money was untouched.

I opened the bank app.

The first account held enough for the upcoming bills.

The reserve account held $2,900.

I closed the screen and opened it again.

The number didn't change.

Mom was washing her hands at the small sink.

“Something wrong?”

“I don't know.”

I scrolled through the transactions.

Transfers. Payments. Names I didn't recognize.

The newest was for $6,200.

PINE GROVE RESIDENTIAL.

Its processing date was that morning.

The morning we had arrived at the hospital, when Garrett told me to leave my purse at home because he had everything covered.

“What is Pine Grove Residential?” Mom asked.

“I don't know.”

Lucy stirred, making a small sound against the blanket.

Mom took my phone while I settled her. She didn't touch anything until I told her she could open the transaction details.

“Let's save what you're looking at,” she said.

Her voice was careful now.

She had spent thirty years keeping books for small businesses. I had heard that voice when a number didn't belong where someone said it did.

I searched our messages for the reserve balance Garrett had promised.

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