The numbers blurred for a moment. Twenty-five thousand dollars—more than half of Grant’s annual income. And he had never breathed a word of it.
We discussed every expense, even a ten-dollar takeout. We debated between generic cereal and name-brand when it was on sale. But he had taken out a loan larger than anything we’d ever purchased together, and he’d kept it secret.
I sat on the edge of the bed, holding the letter as it might burn me.
When he came home that evening, after Lila was tucked into bed, I handed him the paper without a word.
His reaction was immediate—his face drained of color, his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he started rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit I’d seen a thousand times.
“Mara… please don’t be upset,” he said quietly. “I was trying to surprise you.”
I crossed my arms. “Surprise me how?”
He cleared his throat. “I used it for a used SUV. For you. For the family. I wanted to do something nice, something you deserve.”
His attempt at a sheepish smile didn’t sit right with me. I’d known Grant too long—his excuses were too stiff, too rehearsed.
“So where is this SUV?” I asked.
“It’s—uh—it’s still at the dealership. I wanted to pick it up this weekend. Make it special.”
“What dealership?”
“Um… Westline Motors. On Park Avenue.”
“And the model?”
“A… Toyota Highlander.”
But the lie crumbled beneath his own hesitation. I could see the panic gathering in his eyes.
That night, long after he was asleep, I slipped out of bed and opened his laptop on the kitchen counter. He had forgotten to log out of his email.
Within minutes, the truth appeared on the screen.
An email thread titled:
“Here’s the car, handsome 😘”
The message wasn’t from a dealership—at least, not one selling family SUVs. It contained a forwarded invoice from a luxury car seller. Not for a Highlander, but for a red 2021 Audi convertible, delivered to an apartment address I didn’t recognize.
The purchase price?
$25,000.
My stomach hollowed.
Scrolling further revealed messages between Grant and someone named Sierra, complete with flirtatious lines, promises, and emojis—messages about how she “deserved this,” how he “couldn’t wait to see her behind the wheel,” how he “loved spoiling her.”
I felt physically ill.
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