Chapter 2: The Lie Behind the Six Hundred Dollars
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Claire's words hung in the air like smoke.
You told us she was the help you hired.
My mother's face changed first.
The color drained from it.
She looked at Vanessa, then at me, and finally at the floor.
I had seen my mother embarrassed before.
I had never seen her humiliated.
And somehow, that was exactly what this was.
Not embarrassment.
Humiliation.
Vanessa stood beside the couch with her wineglass trembling in her hand.
“Claire,” she said quietly, “you need to go.””
Claire didn't move.
“Vanessa, I didn't know.””
“You weren't supposed to say anything.””
“I thought he knew.””
“He didn't.””
I looked at my wife.
“What exactly did you tell them?””
She swallowed.
“Marcus, this isn't the time.””
I almost laughed.
“This isn't the time?””
I pointed toward the kitchen.
“My seventy-eight-year-old mother is in there washing your dirty dishes while your friends sit here drinking wine. And you're telling me this isn't the time?””
My voice rose with every word.
Vanessa flinched.
Mom came toward us slowly.
“Marcus, please.””
I turned to her.
“Mom, sit down.””
“I can finish the—”
“No.””
She stopped.
I had never spoken to her sharply before.
I softened immediately.
“Please. Just sit.””
She nodded.
Then I looked back at Vanessa.
She placed her glass on the table.
“You're making this into something it isn't.””
I stared at her.
“Then tell me what it is.””
“You know how tonight happened.””
“I know I gave you six hundred dollars this morning.””
“I know.””
“I told you to use it for whatever you needed.””
“I know.””
“I told you specifically that I didn't expect you to clean or cook.””
“I know.””
“Then why is my mother washing dishes?””
Vanessa folded her arms.
“She offered.””
“Did you ask her?””
“No.””
“You just accepted.””
“She wanted to help.””
I shook my head.
“Mom doesn't say no when somebody asks her for something.””
Vanessa sighed.
“You're acting like I forced her.””
Claire suddenly spoke.
“You did ask her.””
Vanessa turned.
“I did not.””
“You absolutely did.””
“When?””
“In the kitchen.””
Claire's voice shook now.
“You asked her if she could handle the dishes because you said you were too exhausted.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“I was tired.””
“So was she.””
A strange silence settled over the room.
One of Vanessa's other friends, Melissa, slowly stood up.
“I think we should leave.””
Vanessa looked at her.
“Are you serious?””
Melissa grabbed her coat.
“Yes.””
The third woman followed her without saying a word.
Claire remained.
She looked at me.
“I really am sorry.””
I nodded once.
She walked toward the front door.
Just before leaving, she stopped.
“There is something else you should know.””
Vanessa's face went white.
“Claire, don't.””
Claire looked at me.
“She didn't tell us you gave her six hundred dollars.””
My heart sank.
“What did she tell you?””
Claire hesitated.
“She said you refused to give her any money.””
I stared at Vanessa.
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“That's not exactly what I said.””
“Then what exactly did you say?””
“She said,” Claire continued, “that you were becoming controlling. That she had to justify every dollar she spent. That you were trying to make her dependent on you.””
I looked toward the envelope I had given Vanessa that morning.
It was still partly visible beneath a decorative pillow on the couch.
I walked over and picked it up.
Empty.
My chest tightened.
“Where's the money?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
“Vanessa.””
She looked at me.
“I spent some of it.””
“How much?””
“All of it.””
The answer hit harder than I expected.
“You spent six hundred dollars today?””
“It was a party.””
“I gave you six hundred dollars because I didn't want you worrying about a party.””
“I had expenses.””
“What expenses?””
She stared at me.
“Things you wouldn't understand.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Try me.””
She said nothing.
I held the envelope between two fingers.
“You know what the worst part is?””
Her eyes met mine.
“It isn't that you spent the money.””
“Then what is it?””
“You made me look like a man who wouldn't take care of his own wife.””
Her expression hardened.
“You don't take care of me.””
“That's what this is about?””
“You come home from work, eat dinner, go to bed, and expect everything to be fine.””
“I work twelve-hour days so we can afford this house.””
“And I live here too.””
“I know.””
“You say that like it's enough.””
I stared at her.
“What do you want from me?””
She didn't answer right away.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter.
“I want you to notice me.””
That caught me off guard.
I looked at the woman I had married.
For a moment, she didn't look angry.
She looked tired.
And underneath that exhaustion was something I couldn't name.
Pain, maybe.
Fear.
Or guilt.
I couldn't tell.
Then Mom interrupted softly.
“Vanessa.””
My wife turned.
“I'm sorry,” Mom said.
Vanessa looked stunned.
“You don't need to apologize.””
“I should have stayed out of your party.””
Mom's voice was so gentle that it made my anger worse.
“This wasn't your fault.””
Mom gave me a small smile.
“Go easy on her.””
I stared at my mother.
“Why are you defending her?””
“Because I know what it's like to make a mistake.””
“This wasn't a mistake.””
Mom glanced at the kitchen.
“Then maybe she knows that now.””
Vanessa looked away.
The front door opened.
Claire had come back.
She stood there with her purse over her shoulder.
“I forgot my phone.””
Nobody spoke.
She walked to the coffee table, grabbed it, and looked at me.
Then she said quietly, “Marcus, ask her about Tuesday.””
Vanessa froze.
“Claire.””
“What happened Tuesday?””
I looked from one woman to the other.
“What happened Tuesday?””
Claire shook her head.
“Ask her.””
She left.
This time, she didn't look back.
I waited until the door shut.
Then I turned to Vanessa.
“What happened Tuesday?””
“Nothing.””
“Claire says otherwise.””
“She doesn't know what she's talking about.””
“Then explain it.””
Vanessa walked toward the kitchen.
“Not tonight.””
I followed her.
“Where did you go Tuesday afternoon?””
She opened the refrigerator.
“Out.””
“Where?””
“To the bank.””
“Why?””
She shut the refrigerator door.
“Marcus, stop.””
“No.””
She looked at me.
“Why are you doing this?””
“Because tonight I came home expecting my wife to be relaxing after a party I paid for.””
I glanced toward Mom.
“Instead, I found my mother cleaning up after your friends.””
Then I looked back at Vanessa.
“And now your best friend tells me you've been lying about our finances.””
“I said I'd explain.””
“You keep saying that.””
“I need time.””
“You've had time.””
She crossed her arms.
“I'm not doing this while your mother is here.””
Mom immediately stood.
“I'll go upstairs.””
“No,” I said.
Mom touched my arm.
“This is between you and Vanessa.””
I looked at her.
“Are you tired?””
“Yes.””
“Then go rest.””
She nodded.
Before leaving, she looked at Vanessa.
There was no anger in her eyes.
Only sadness.
“Goodnight, dear.””
Vanessa couldn't meet her gaze.
“Goodnight.””
Mom disappeared down the hallway.
I waited until I heard her bedroom door close.
Then I turned around.
“Now tell me.””
Vanessa leaned against the counter.
“You want the truth?””
“Yes.””
She looked at the floor.
“I went to the bank Tuesday.””
“Why?””
“I withdrew two thousand dollars.””
My stomach tightened.
“From our account?””
She nodded.
“Why?””
“I needed to pay something.””
“To whom?””
She took a breath.
“A person.””
“That's not an answer.””
“I can't tell you.””
“You just told me you withdrew two thousand dollars from our joint account and you refuse to tell me where it went.””
“I was going to put it back.””
“When?””
“I don't know.””
I stared at her.
“What could possibly be worth two thousand dollars that you can't tell your husband about?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was trying to protect you.””
That sentence made no sense.
“From what?””
She shook her head.
“I can't.””
I stepped closer.
“Who are you protecting me from?””
Her lips parted.
No answer.
“Vanessa.””
She looked at me with a strange expression.
Almost like she was afraid to say the next words.
“I can't tell you because you'll hate me.””
I felt my heartbeat in my throat.
“You've already lied to me.””
“I know.””
“You've embarrassed my mother.””
“I know.””
“You let me walk into my own house and find her cleaning up your party.””
“I know.””
“So tell me something.””
I lowered my voice.
“What happened to the woman I married?””
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“She got scared.””
“Of me?””
“No.””
“Then of what?””
She wiped her face.
“You.””
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?””
“I saw something.””
“What?””
“A message.””
“From who?””
She hesitated.
“A woman.””
I felt something cold move through my chest.
“What woman?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't know her name?””
“She didn't use one.””
“What did the message say?””
Vanessa looked at the floor.
“That you weren't telling me the truth.””
“About what?””
“About where you go after work.””
I stared at her.
“I go to work.””
“I know.””
“Then what are you talking about?””
“She sent me pictures.””
“What pictures?””
She couldn't answer.
I reached for the chair and sat down.
“Show me.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because you'll understand why I was scared.””
“Show me.””
She pulled out her phone.
Her hands were shaking.
She opened a hidden folder.
Then she turned the screen toward me.
The first photograph showed me outside a downtown hotel.
My stomach dropped.
The second showed me getting into a black SUV.
The third showed a woman standing beside me.
I stared at the screen.
“That isn't what you think.””
Vanessa laughed through her tears.
“That's what everyone says.””
“I've never seen that woman.””
“You're standing beside her.””
“I know.””
“You were carrying her bag.””
“I didn't.””
“You were smiling.””
“I wasn't.””
She stared at me.
“Then who is she?””
I looked at the picture again.
The woman had long dark hair.
She was facing away from the camera.
I zoomed in.
Something about the photograph bothered me.
The angle.
The lighting.
The image itself.
It didn't look right.
“Who sent you these?””
“I told you. I don't know.””
“When?””
“Two weeks ago.””
“And you believed them?””
“I didn't know what to believe.””
“Why didn't you ask me?””
“Because I was afraid you'd lie.””
“So instead you secretly withdrew two thousand dollars?””
She nodded.
I stood.
“Where did that money go?””
She looked at me.
“I paid someone to find out who she was.””
“Who?””
“A private investigator.””
I stared at Vanessa.
“You hired a private investigator to investigate me?””
Her shoulders dropped.
“Yes.””
The room felt suddenly too small.
“And what did they find?””
She didn't answer.
“What did they find?””
Her voice cracked.
“They found something.””
“What?””
She looked directly at me.
“Your mother.””
I froze.
“What does my mother have to do with this?””
Vanessa's expression changed.
For the first time that night, I saw pure fear.
“That's why I let her wash the dishes.””
I stepped toward her.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“I didn't want her talking to you.””
My blood ran cold.
“Talking to me about what?””
Vanessa looked toward the hallway where my mother had disappeared.
Then back at me.
“About something she never told you.””
“What?””
Vanessa's lips trembled.
“Something about your father.””
I stopped breathing.
“My father?””
She nodded.
“Your father left something behind.””
“What did he leave?””
She didn't answer.
I grabbed my phone from the counter.
“I’m calling Mom.””
Vanessa caught my wrist.
“Don't.””
I pulled free.
“Why?””
“Because if she knows you found out, everything changes.””
I stared at her.
“What changes?””
Vanessa whispered the words that made my entire world feel unstable.
“The person who sent me those pictures isn't trying to destroy our marriage.””
May you like
She swallowed.
“They're trying to get something your mother has.””
