"Luna, please, don't divorce Horace—"
She reached for my hand the second she walked in. I kept my face cold and pulled away.
Katherine's hand drew back.
She sniffled, her voice catching.
"Yesterday wasn't what you think. I just lost my job, I couldn't make rent, and I had nowhere else to turn, so I went to Horace to borrow money."
"He chewed me out, didn't lend me a cent, told me to get lost."
She looked at me, her eyes so sincere you couldn't find a single crack in them.
"Luna, Horace really loves you. You know how he is with me—he won't even give me a civil look."
I leaned back in my chair and watched her perform.
If I hadn't seen those receipts last night.
I might have fallen for that pitiful face all over again.
I said, "Is that so? He didn't lend you anything?"
Katherine nodded over and over. "Really, he didn't! He's so harsh with me, why would he ever give me money?"
The door to the meeting room swung open.
Horace stood in the doorway, out of breath.
The moment he was inside, his first instinct was to rush to Katherine and pull her behind him.
The move came too naturally. He didn't even have to think.
He turned his head, frowning, and glared at me.
"Luna Simmons, if you've got a problem, take it out on me. What kind of person drags her to the office just to corner her?"
I watched Horace shield Katherine behind him, and I laughed.
Out loud.
The room was quiet, and the laugh landed wrong in it.
Horace froze.
He frowned, his voice climbing higher.
"What's so funny? Katherine's an airhead, why bother fighting with her?"
Even now, he still had to put her down to keep his distance.
I stood, picked up the cup of hot coffee that had just been poured on the table.
Walked over to the trash can by the wall.
Tilted my hand.
The brown liquid poured out over the wastepaper inside, steam rising off it.
I said, "Horace, let's get divorced."
The room went silent.
The impatience drained from Horace's face. He just stood there, stunned.
He let out a cold scoff.
"Luna Simmons, what's gotten into you? You want a divorce over something this petty?"
He stepped forward, his tone softening.
"All right, stop it. I know you were heated last night. I always said Katherine was a nuisance—just ignore her from now on and it's fine."
Behind him, Katherine's face went white for an instant.
But I saw it clearly: the hand Horace held behind his back gave Katherine's fingers a gentle squeeze.
In front of me, he held me up as his wife and ground Katherine under his heel. Behind my back, the two of them were sneaking around together.
I turned, said nothing more, pulled the door open, and walked out of the room.
Horace's furious shout came from behind me.
"Luna Simmons! Are you done throwing your fit or not!"
I didn't look back.
I took the afternoon off and went straight to the bank.
For two years, Horace had been telling me he was saving money.
He said he wanted to trade up for a bigger place in a good school district, somewhere convenient for our kids to go to school someday.
So I'd covered every expense in the house.
Mortgage, car payment, water, electricity, gas—even his daily coffee came out of my paycheck.
His own paycheck account, I'd never once checked.
Sitting at the teller's window, I slid his ID and our marriage certificate across.
"I'd like to print the last two years of statements on this account."
After a moment, the teller handed back a thick stack of paper.
I sat on the long bench in the lobby and read it line by line.
The further I read, the colder my hands went.
There were no savings.
Not a single cent.
