My husband handed over every cent of his paycheck.
Even so.
What the two of us made in a month barely kept us fed.
When his father was dying, we couldn't scrape together three thousand dollars.
So Jordan Simmons gritted his teeth and went at it.
The endless dinners, the sales calls, the chasing after investors.
He clawed his way up until he ran a company worth billions.
But the day the strain hit my pregnancy, all I did was take three thousand dollars from him.
And he turned around and had me arrested.
The female officer looked at me with pity.
"She only wanted it for a prenatal checkup. Isn't it your job to give her money?"
Jordan smiled.
"Back when my father needed money for treatment.
"Didn't she cling to every dollar in the house then too?"
Beside him.
The two-million-dollar earrings on the intern's ears swayed and glinted.
They were Jordan's gift for making her a permanent hire.
I lowered my swollen, reddened eyelids.
Wiped away the tears.
And held out my puffy hands.
"Go ahead and arrest me."
...
The two hands I held out trembled faintly.
The cuffs tightened again and again in the officer's grip.
Until she whipped around at last.
"Mr. Simmons! You really mean to send your pregnant wife to jail?
"Three thousand dollars is half a day's profit for you. Do you have to do this to her?
"She's seven months along!"
Jordan's hand rested carelessly on the intern Prudence Butler's waist.
"She's already admitted it. What else is there to say?"
"You..."
The officer stared at him, not without surprise.
Prudence covered her lips and laughed.
"You don't know the whole story. Back when Mr. Simmons's father was critically ill, she was the one holding all the money in that house.
"Three thousand for the surgery, and she flatly refused to give it to him.
"The old man died with that grudge in his heart."
At that.
Prudence dabbed regretfully at the corner of her eye.
The mention of his father.
Jordan's face darkened a shade.
He gave a cold laugh and lit a cigarette.
"When it comes down to it, she brought this on herself."
"This..."
The officer had nothing to say either.
She turned to look at me.
Her voice softened a little.
"Ma'am, is there anything you'd like to say?"
I lifted my head, eyes red.
Looking at Jordan.
"Dad... he knew everything."
Jordan froze.
"What are you talking about?"
Prudence sounded surprised.
"That was the hardest time Mr. Simmons ever went through, and even then he handed you his whole paycheck every month.
"Skimming a little day to day is one thing, but of all times, when the old man fell ill you had to..."
She stopped at exactly the right moment.
And looked over at Jordan.
Jordan's brows drew together.
"Take her away."
They put the cuffs on me.
My swollen feet could barely carry me.
As I passed Jordan.
I stumbled and nearly fell.
Jordan stepped back.
It was the officer who caught me.
I raised my head.
He had one hand tucked Prudence behind him.
His eyes dropped to mine without a trace of warmth.
A mocking smile curled at the corner of Prudence's mouth before she could stop it.
I swallowed.
And quietly followed the officer out.
Once we were in the car.
The officer sat beside me.
"Did you really withhold the money for his father's surgery?"
I stared out the window.
"There really was no money."
"How could that be?"
The officer was taken aback.
I let out a bitter laugh.
"He pulls in seven, eight figures a year now, but at the start, the two of us made maybe four or five thousand a month.
"He handed it all to me to manage.
"Rent in Los Angeles isn't cheap.
"After rent, utilities, and the basics we needed to live, his mother had asthma, so a chunk had to go to her medicine.
"Whatever was left, sometimes I still had to borrow from a friend just to get by."
Something like pity crossed the officer's eyes.
She pressed her lips together.
"I know. It was the same for me when I first started out.
"I still had to lean on my parents to get through..."
I gave a bitter smile.
The car fell silent,
