Chapter 3

The next day, while Mavis was taking her afternoon nap, I sneaked a look at her other transfer records.

The transfer history was endless. I started scrolling from the most recent transaction.

[December 15 2024. Outcome: $2,000. Recipient: Sarah Thompson. Note: Living expenses.]

[November 15 2024. Outcome: $2,000. Recipient: Sarah Thompson.]

[October 15 2024. Outcome: $2,500. Note: Autumn clothing allowance.]

I scrolled even further back.

In 2023, Mavis sent $2,000 to Sarah each month. Sometimes a few hundred more, sometimes a few thousand extra. The notes varied—baby formula, tuition, seasonal clothes, and so on.

[January 2022. Outcome: $10,000. Note: Down payment difference.]

$10,000. I remembered the beginning of 2022. That winter was brutally cold, and the zipper on my down jacket broke. I didn't buy a new one. I stitched it up and kept wearing it.

That month, Mavis told me, "My teeth are bad. I need to get two implants. It's going to cost a lot."

I ended up borrowing $3,000 from a coworker.

I wore that jacket with the broken zipper to work. My coworker asked, "Why don't you get a new one?"

I said, "This one still works."

In that same month, Mavis handed over $10,000 to Sarah to make up the difference for her down payment.

I kept scrolling through the records.

[June 2021. Outcome: $9,000. Note: Kindergarten tuition.]

Kindergarten. So, if the kid started kindergarten in 2021 at age three, that meant it was born in 2018.

David "went overseas" in 2019. The child was born before he left.

Sarah wasn't some woman he met after "moving abroad". She'd been in his life all along.

My finger stopped at the very first transaction.

[March 2020. Outcome: $1,500. Note: baby formula.]

Back then, David and I had been married for a year and a half. He'd already been "abroad" for six months.

Every day, I'd text him: [What did you eat today?], [How's the weather?], or [Miss you.]

He'd reply to maybe one out of every three messages.

I thought David was just busy. Now I knew better.

He wasn't busy. He was 2.5 miles away the whole time.

I shut off Mavis's phone, my palm slick with sweat.

I scrolled all the way from 2020 to 2024.

Four years. Every single transaction was a secret I never knew about.

Every penny I thought was for Mavis had ended up in Sarah's account instead.

I unlocked my phone and checked my bank account. $1,247. That was all I had to my name.

*****

That evening, Mavis was sprawled on the couch, watching TV.

I walked out with a plate of fruit.

"Mavis, when's David coming back? It's been five years already," I asked, sounding casual as usual.

Mavis didn't even look up. "His project's keeping him busy, you know that. He'll come home when it's finished."

"Last time he said he'd be back soon—"

"Stop nagging. It's tough for men working out there. Just take care of our home. That's your job."

She switched the channel.

I didn't say anything else. I went back to the kitchen and washed the fruit plate.

As I washed it, water from the faucet splashed onto my sweater. I glanced down at it.

I bought it three years ago. The collar was pilled, and the color had faded from too many washes.

It was the "newest" winter piece I owned.

*****

On the third day, I didn't check Mavis's phone.

This time, I looked into something else—the property fees.

I'd always been the one paying for our property fees, every six months. I logged into the app, trying to see if I'd missed anything.

And that was when I realized that under David's name, there were two properties registered for property fees.

One was ours, and the other was Apt. 603, Building 12. It was that apartment complex.

I checked the details.

The property fees for that place were always paid, every six months. The owner's info had David's name on it.

So the apartment was under his name. When did he buy it?

I exited the app and tapped on a real estate lookup app. I entered the complex and unit number.

It showed that the apartment was registered in November 2021.

It was the same year Mavis transferred $9,000 for "tuition", and the year before my coworker lent me $3,000 for Mavis's dental implants.

Wait, it was the same year. I got it wrong.

In January 2022, Mavis transferred $10,000 for the "down payment difference".

So, from the end of 2021 to the start of 2022, the down payment for that apartment was being put together.

What was I doing during that time?

I was working overtime, making mortgage payments, transferring living expenses to Mavis, eating five-buck meals at the cafeteria, and wearing that down jacket with the broken zipper.

And all the money I earned had become a part of the down payment for that apartment through Mavis's hands.