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The deposit was there, sure. But the account balance was still thousands lower than it should have been.
I scrolled down and found several transfers had been made over the past few months.
I noticed money missing from our joint account.
« That can’t be right. »
The knot in my stomach tightened as I checked the numbers again.
There was no mistake. Thousands of dollars were missing.
***
That night, I slid my laptop toward Troy while he was watching the news.
« Did you move money out of checking? »
He barely looked up from the TV. « I paid the bills. »
« How much? »
There was no mistake.
« A couple of thousand. It evens out. »
« Where? » I turned the screen toward him.
« Troy, this is a lot. Where is it all going? »
He rubbed his forehead, eyes still on the television. « The usual… things for the house, bills. I move money around sometimes, you know that. It’ll come back. »
I wanted to press him, but after a lifetime of knowing this man, I knew an argument at that point would just build walls.
So I waited.
I wanted to press him.
A week later, the remote died in the middle of a show I was watching. I went to Troy’s desk to search for batteries.
I opened the drawer and found a neat stack of hotel receipts tucked under some old mail.
Now, Troy did travel to California sometimes, so I wasn’t concerned until I saw that the hotel was in Massachusetts.
Every receipt was for the same hotel, same room number… the dates went back months.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at them until my hands went numb.
Every receipt was for the same hotel.
I kept trying to think of logical reasons for him to be traveling to Massachusetts, and I kept coming up empty.
I counted them. Eleven receipts. Eleven trips he’d lied about.
My chest felt tight. My hands shook as I entered the hotel’s number into my phone.
« Good afternoon. How may I help you? »
“Hi,” I said, forcing my voice steady. I gave her Troy’s full name and explained that I was his new assistant. “I need to book his usual room.”
I entered the hotel’s number into my phone.
« Of course, » the concierge said without hesitation. « He’s a regular. That room is basically reserved for him. When would he like to check in? »
I couldn’t breathe.
« I… I’ll call back, » I managed, and hung up.
***
When Troy came home the next evening, I was waiting at the kitchen table with the receipts. He stopped short in the doorway, keys still in his hand.
« What is this? » I asked.
I was waiting at the kitchen table with the receipts.
He looked at the paper, then at me.
« It’s not what you think. »
« Then tell me what it is. »
He stood there, jaw tight, shoulders stiff, staring at the receipts like they were something I’d planted to trap him.
« I’m not doing this, » he finally said. « You’re blowing it out of proportion. »
« It’s not what you think. »
« Blowing it out of proportion? » My voice rose. « Troy, the money’s been disappearing from our account, and you’ve visited that hotel eleven times over the past few months without telling me. You’re lying about something. What is it? »
« You’re supposed to trust me. »
« I did trust you. I do, but you’re not giving me anything to work with here. »