Brendan Gilbert stepped outside to smoke.
At one in the morning, his phone lit up right on schedule.
It was a repayment notice. The loan had been paid off this month.
I thought it was spam, but my fingers moved on their own and tapped in.
One notice.
Ten.
…
A hundred and twenty repayment records.
$15,000 a month. Brendan had been paying it for ten years.
Every muscle in my body locked.
A new message popped up.
My little mouth down there misses you sooo much. Don't get too into your act with that broke nobody, okay? Oh, and I got the new bag. Love it.
A draft slipped through the cracked window and crawled over my skin, cold enough to make me shiver.
An act.
So all those years of suffering beside me were just an act.
Yesterday, the lease had come due. I'd just paid a full year's rent. Ten thousand dollars.
Split into twenty-four credit card installments.
——
"Your phone just lit up. Is something going on?"
My voice came out hoarse.
He hated ads and spam. Every time he got one, he'd complain to me about it.
He'd say the same thing this time. He had to.
Brendan picked up his phone, glanced at the screen, and frowned.
"Something urgent came up at work. I need to head out."
A high-pitched ringing flooded my ears. Everything in front of me blurred.
Words fell out of my mouth before I could think.
"Brendan, next month's grocery money. Eight hundred dollars."
"I don't have anything left. Could you maybe…"
He leaned down and cupped my face, cutting me off.
"I don't have anything either. But I know you. You're amazing. You'll figure something out."
Then he changed into the new shirt I'd just bought him.
My hand shot out and caught the hem.
There was hope in my eyes I hadn't even realized was there.
"But you scratched someone's car the other day. I paid twelve thousand for that. I really have nothing left."
I looked up at him, fighting hard against the sting building behind my eyes.
Brendan paused. "Babe, are you blaming me?"
"Or do you think my depression is dragging you down?"
Before tonight, I would have pulled him into my arms without a second thought.
But now, all I could think was:
The good life he kept promising.
Did he mean living in the most expensive house, carrying the most expensive bags?
I let go of his shirt. My hands curled into fists to stop the trembling.
"Are you seeing someone else?"
I bit down on my lip until it ached, my gaze hard and unblinking.
Brendan looked at me for a long moment. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm broke. What woman would want me?"
"If I don't get to the office, they'll dock my pay."
I didn't look up, but I knew exactly what was in his eyes.
Contempt. Disgust. And the lie holding it all together.
He left with a quiet laugh.
Dock his pay.
Was I really that obsessed with money?
I lifted my head and took in the cramped, shabby room around me.
A water-cooler jug repurposed as a trash can. A plastic bottle crushed flat to make a showerhead. A bedding set I'd spent days comparing online before I could justify the price. A table and chairs our neighbor had thrown out.
My breath caught.
When I bragged about how the showerhead was cheap but still had great pressure, was Brendan's praise really mockery?
When I told him I'd found a plastic jug that could work as a trash can, did he turn away because I disgusted him?
All those hours I spent clicking from site to site, link to link, hunting for the cheapest bedding set I could find, was he laughing at me for thinking this was all I deserved?
Tears were already running down my face. I didn't know when they'd started.
I cried for a long time, then grabbed the bedsheet and scrubbed my eyes dry.
I needed to know why. I needed to know who she was.
