The days after Nick left were quieter than I expected.
I went to work.
I came home.
I ate when I could and rested when my body demanded it.
I kept the maternity clothes Elaine had bought within easy reach, and I wore the recovered scrubs for my hospital shifts.
The sage green dress remained on its hanger.
I hadn't taken the pregnancy photographs yet.
I wasn't sure when I would feel ready.
Nick and I continued talking by phone.
Some conversations were short.
Others lasted longer because we were trying to work through the questions we had avoided for months.
He told me he was reviewing the credit card statements.
He said he was separating the wagers from our ordinary expenses and calculating how much money he had taken from the checking account.
I asked him to show me the figures when he had finished.
He agreed.
I tried not to confuse his willingness to cooperate with proof that everything would be different.
I wanted to believe him.
But belief was no longer enough.
One evening, he called while I was folding laundry.
I put the clothes aside and answered.
He asked whether I was feeling all right.
I told him I was tired but managing.
Then he said he wanted to apologize again.
I listened.
He said he had been thinking about the way he had responded when I first asked where my clothes had gone.
He admitted that he had dismissed my concerns instead of telling me what he had done.
He said he had made me feel unreasonable when I was asking a fair question.
That admission mattered to me.
Not because it repaired anything on its own.
Because he was finally describing his behavior without blaming my pregnancy or my reaction.
"I should have told you the truth," he said.
"Yes."
"I should never have given Tara your things without asking."
"No, you shouldn't have."
He went quiet.
I could hear him breathing.
I wondered whether he had expected me to make the conversation easier by saying that I forgave him.
I wasn't ready to say that.
"I need you to understand that I can't keep doing this," I told him. "I can't be the only person watching our money and planning for our future."
"I understand."
"I need to know that if something goes wrong, you'll tell me."
"I will."
I took a breath.
"That's what you need to show me."
He didn't argue.
We talked for a little longer about the credit card and the repayment plan.
He said he was working through the transactions and would bring the information when we met.
I asked him not to leave anything out because he was afraid of how I might react.
He said he wouldn't.
After the call, I returned to the laundry.
I folded a pair of maternity pants and placed them in the drawer.
The simple task steadied me.
I was learning to let ordinary things remain ordinary, even when I couldn't resolve the larger problems immediately.
A few days later, Elaine called to check on me.
She asked whether I had enough clothes for work.
I told her I did.
She asked about the green dress.
I said it was still hanging in the closet.
She sounded pleased.
Then she asked how things were going with Nick.
I told her we were talking and that he was working on the financial information I had requested.
She said she hoped he understood the seriousness of what he had done.
I told her I hoped so, too.
I didn't want to speak about him as if he were someone else's problem.
He was my husband.
The decisions ahead would affect my life and Nora's.
But I also knew that being his wife didn't require me to protect him from the consequences of his choices.
Elaine told me she and Frank were willing to help where they could.
I thanked her.
Then I told her again that I needed Nick to take responsibility himself.
She agreed.
That evening, I opened the notebook and reviewed the conditions I had written down.
Full financial transparency.
Repayment of the missing money.
Professional counseling.
I added one more line beneath them.
No more hidden financial decisions.
I read the page carefully.
The list wasn't a guarantee that we would stay married.
It was a description of what would have to change if we were going to try.
I didn't know whether Nick would meet every condition.
I didn't know whether I would be able to trust him again, even if he did.
But I knew I couldn't accept less simply because I was pregnant and afraid of facing the future alone.
I had been afraid of that future before.
I was still afraid of it now.
The difference was that I no longer wanted fear to make every decision for me.
I placed the notebook in the drawer.
Then I went to the closet and took out the sage green dress.
I held it in front of the mirror.
My stomach had grown since I bought it.
The fabric fell differently over my body now, but it still fit.
I thought about the photographs I had wanted to take.
I could still arrange them.
I could still have pictures of myself carrying Nora, regardless of what was happening between Nick and me.
For a moment, I considered putting the dress away until everything was settled.
Then I realized that might mean waiting for a kind of certainty I couldn't guarantee.
My pregnancy was happening now.
My daughter was growing now.
My life couldn't be put on hold until my marriage became understandable again.
I hung the dress back up, but this time I didn't check it twice.
I left it there because I wanted to wear it when I was ready.
The next time Nick called, I told him I wanted us to meet and go through the financial information together.
He said he would bring the statements and his calculations.
I told him I wanted the original figures, not only his summary.
He agreed.
We chose a time.
I didn't promise that the meeting would end with him coming home.
He didn't ask me to promise.
That was a small change, but I noticed it.
For once, we were talking about what needed to happen rather than how quickly I could be persuaded to move on.
I spent the evening preparing for work.
I checked my scrubs.
I packed my bag.
I made sure I had the things I needed for the next day.
Then I turned off the bedroom light and lay down.
The house was quiet.
I thought about the woman who had walked through the front door on October 10, exhausted from her shift and expecting to change into comfortable clothes.
She had believed that the hardest part of preparing for Nora would be managing the ordinary demands of pregnancy and work.
She hadn't known about the hidden card.
She hadn't known that money from their checking account had been used for wagers.
She hadn't known that her husband would give away her clothes and then tell her she was being unreasonable for wanting them back.
I felt sorry for that woman.
I also felt proud of her for continuing to ask questions when the answers became uncomfortable.
She had not known what she was going to find.
She had kept looking anyway.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, Nick would bring the financial information.
I would listen.
I would ask questions.
And I would decide what his answers meant after I had heard them.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: I Couldn’t Undo What Nick Had Done, but I Could Decide What Our Family Needed Before Trust Had Any Chance of Returning
I Came Home From a Hospital Shift Expecting to Rest, but the Empty Closet Made Me Question My Own Marriage
Part 11 of 12
