The house felt different after his parents left.
The shopping bags were gone from the bedroom floor, and the recovered clothes had been put away.
The green dress hung at the end of the closet rail.
I could see it whenever I opened the door.
I had thought getting it back would make me feel better.
Instead, it reminded me of what Nick had done to get money for a bill he had never told me about.
I changed into one of the new comfortable outfits Elaine had bought.
The fabric was soft against my skin.
I sat on the bed and rested both hands on my stomach.
Nora moved beneath my palms.
I waited for the movement to settle.
I wanted to think about her.
I wanted to think about the little things we still needed to prepare before she arrived.
But my mind kept returning to the credit card balance.
Nick came into the bedroom after a while.
He had changed out of the clothes he wore earlier.
He stood beside the dresser, looking uncertain.
"Can we talk?"
I looked up at him.
"We've been talking."
"I mean just the two of us."
I understood what he meant.
His parents had witnessed his confession.
Now he wanted to speak without anyone else listening.
I moved the notebook from the bed to the dresser.
"All right."
He sat down in the chair.
For a moment, he looked at his hands.
Then he began explaining how the wagers had started.
He said he had believed he could make extra money.
He had thought he could use a small amount, earn something back, and stop before it became a problem.
When he lost, he had wanted to recover what was gone.
He had put in more money.
Then he had lost again.
I listened.
I didn't know whether every detail was accurate.
I knew only that he was finally talking about something he had hidden for months.
"Why didn't you tell me when you first lost money?"
He looked at me.
"I was embarrassed."
"So you kept going?"
"I thought I could fix it."
That answer was becoming familiar.
I looked down at the notebook.
"You kept trying to fix it without telling me how bad it was."
He nodded.
I thought about all the ordinary conversations we had had since the spring.
We had talked about groceries.
We had discussed the cost of the baby's things.
I had told him how much I planned to save before my leave began.
I had trusted him when he said we were doing all right.
I wondered how many of those conversations he had sat through while knowing that our money was being used for something else.
"Did you think about what would happen if you couldn't replace it?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
I took a breath.
"What if the money wasn't there when we needed it?"
"I didn't want that to happen."
"But it could have."
He rubbed his face.
"I know."
I wanted to believe that he understood the risk now.
But I was angry that he had waited until his actions were exposed before acknowledging it.
I asked whether the credit card was the only account he had kept from me.
He said it was the only hidden credit card.
I asked him to explain the balance.
He told me he needed time to go through the transactions and calculate how much he had lost.
I said he could take the time needed to gather accurate information, but he couldn't keep using uncertainty as an excuse to avoid answering.
He nodded.
I wrote that down in the notebook.
Not the exact amount.
Just the fact that we still needed it.
Then I asked about the checking account.
He admitted he had used money from it for the wagers.
I asked whether he had taken the money in one large amount or through smaller transactions.
He said it had happened in different amounts over time.
That frightened me more than a single large withdrawal would have.
It meant the losses had been mixed into our ordinary financial life.
Money would come in.
Money would go out.
And I had believed the account was being used for the expenses we had agreed on.
I asked him to show me the transactions again.
We sat together with his phone between us.
I made notes as he explained each unfamiliar entry.
When he couldn't explain one, I marked it for later.
I didn't want to accuse him of something I couldn't establish.
I also didn't want to accept an answer simply because he sounded uncomfortable.
The notebook began to fill.
Dates.
Amounts.
Questions.
I hated that I was doing this with my husband.
I hated that I had to turn our shared finances into something I needed to investigate.
But I couldn't see another way forward.
At one point, Nick reached for my hand.
I let him hold it for a moment.
Then I gently pulled away.
He looked at me.
"Are you going to leave me?"
The question caught me off guard.
I had spent the entire afternoon trying to understand what he had done.
I hadn't made a decision about the future of our marriage.
I was still trying to understand the present.
"I don't know what I'm going to do yet."
He looked hurt.
I wanted to reassure him.
That was my instinct.
I wanted to tell him that we would get through it, that we would find a way to pay everything back, that Nora would arrive and things would become easier.
But I couldn't promise those things.
Not honestly.
"I need to know the truth first," I said.
He nodded slowly.
We sat in silence for a while.
I could hear a car passing outside and the low hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen.
Ordinary sounds.
The same sounds I had heard before discovering the missing clothes.
It was unsettling how the house could remain exactly the same while my understanding of it changed.
Eventually, Nick stood and said he would start reviewing the credit card transactions.
I told him I needed the full information, not just the payment due Monday.
He said he understood.
Then he left the room.
I stayed where I was.
I looked at the notebook.
I had written down the balance as it appeared on the screen.
Beside it, I had written the date I learned about the card: October 10.
I crossed out that date.
I had actually discovered the missing clothes on October 10.
The card had been revealed the following afternoon, after Elaine and Frank came to the house.
I corrected the entry.
The small correction mattered to me.
I needed to know which things I had seen myself and which things I had learned from someone else.
For months, Nick had known about the debt.
I had known nothing.
Now every detail felt important.
Later, I went to the kitchen and made myself something to eat.
I had barely eaten since coming home from work the previous day.
The thought of food didn't appeal to me, but I knew I needed to take care of myself.
Nora still needed me to do that.
I sat at the table with a small plate and tried to eat slowly.
Nick came in and poured himself a glass of water.
He looked at the notebook beside me.
"I'll have the numbers for you."
I nodded.
"When?"
"Tomorrow. I'll go through everything tonight."
I watched him leave the kitchen.
I didn't know whether he would keep that promise.
I hoped he would.
Not because I wanted the problem to disappear.
Because I needed to know whether he was finally willing to do the work required to face it.
That night, I hung my work scrubs where I could reach them easily.
I checked the pockets.
I folded the sleeves.
I set out the clothes I planned to wear the following day.
The simple routine helped me feel a little more in control.
Before getting into bed, I checked that the green dress was still hanging in the closet.
It was.
I turned off the light.
Nick was already in bed, lying on his back.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then he quietly said he was sorry.
I stared into the darkness.
"I hear you."
He turned toward me.
"That's all you're going to say?"
I took a breath.
"I don't know what else to say yet."
He was silent.
I felt guilty for not comforting him.
Then I remembered that I was the one who had come home to an empty closet, and I was the one who had discovered that our financial plans might not mean what I thought they meant.
I couldn't make his shame more important than my need for the truth.
So I lay still and let the silence remain.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The More I Reviewed Our Plans for Maternity Leave, the More I Understood How Much His Secret Had Put at Risk
I Came Home From a Hospital Shift Expecting to Rest, but the Empty Closet Made Me Question My Own Marriage
Part 6 of 12
