Chapter 2
That night, Brian peeled me an apple, just like he always did.
I took the apple and ate it.
Brian asked, "How was your day?"
I replied, "Fine."
Everything was business as usual.
But from that day on, I started checking the accounts.
We had a joint savings account, and both our salaries went straight into it.
Every month, Brian's salary was 8,000 dollars, and mine was 6,000 dollars.
I'd never really paid attention to the transaction history before.
This time, I pulled up the last two years' worth of statements and went through them line by line.
Every month on the 15th, there was a transfer of 2,400 dollars.
And every single time, it was sent to the same account.
I counted them up.
Twenty-four transfers.
Over two years, that added up to 57,600 dollars.
Then I started going through his credit card statements.
The card was linked to my phone number, so every month the e-bill would land in my inbox.
I used to just pay it off without ever checking the details.
But this time, I went through every single transaction.
Tiffany & Co., 12,000 dollars.
MaxMara, 7,000 dollars.
A cosmetic clinic, 5,000 dollars.
I checked the Tiffany website to see what Brian bought.
It was a necklace.
I'd seen that style before.
It was hanging just below the collar of that cream turtleneck Julia wore at lunch today.
I closed my laptop.
From the kitchen, I could hear Brian cooking.
He was humming a tune.
"Chloe, I made your favorite ribs tonight!" he called out.
I sat in the study, staring at the endless numbers on my screen.
What struck me as most ironic was not the money.
It was the date.
August 16th was my birthday.
Brian told me he had to work late on an urgent project, so I ended up spending my birthday by myself.
That day, there were three charges on his credit card.
One was at an upscale restaurant. 400 dollars per person.
Another was at a bakery. The note read: [Custom birthday cake.]
The last was 100 dollars spent at a flower shop.
August 16th was also Julia's birthday.
Same as mine.
No, maybe it wasn't a coincidence.
Maybe one of the reasons Brian picked me was because I had the same birthday as Julia.
That way, he'd never forget the date.
He sent her a cake, and all I got was a lame excuse about working late.
Perfect.
I closed my laptop.
I went to the living room and sat down. Brian came out with the ribs and served me a big plate of food.
"Eat up. You've lost weight lately," he said.
I picked up a rib and chewed it slowly, over and over.
I couldn't bring myself to swallow.
But in the end, I finally managed to choke it down.
*****
On Saturday afternoon, I went to my mother-in-law's place.
I was just dropping off some seasonal clothes, carrying two bags to the door.
The door was slightly open, and I could hear my mother-in-law, Mary, on the phone in the living room.
I stood in the entryway, not moving.
Mary said, "Julia, don't worry. I've already talked to Brian. He'll take care of everything that needs to be done.
"Don't worry about Chloe. She's too soft to make a scene. She won't stir up any trouble.
"Just focus on your health, okay? If you need anything, just tell me."
I stood in the doorway, holding two bags of clothes.
My fingers were gripping the plastic handles so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
It sounded like they were pretty close.
I took two steps back and stood outside the door for twenty seconds.
Then I walked forward again, deliberately dragging my shoes across the floor to make some noise.
I pushed the door open and walked in. "Mary, I brought you some fall and winter clothes."
Mary was just hanging up the phone, and for a split second, her expression flickered with a hint of awkwardness.
"Oh, Chloe, you're here. Have a seat," Mary said.
She took the clothes, glanced at them, and dropped them onto the couch.
"Have you been busy at work these days?" she asked.
"It's alright," I replied.
"So why aren't you thinking about having kids?"
This again.
Mary brought this up every single time we saw each other.
I'd been married for ten years and still had no kids. It was not that I didn't want to; Brian was the one who kept saying there was no hurry.
Mary poured me a glass of water and pushed it toward me. Her tone was gentle, but every word was laced with a sting. "Chloe, you're already thirty-two. If you wait a few more years, you'll be considered an older mom.
"Brian's the only son, and the whole Foster family counts on him.
"If there's something wrong with your body, you better get it checked out early."
I gripped my glass tightly.
"Mary, having a kid isn't just up to me," I replied.
Mary let out a sigh. "You're just too headstrong, Chloe. Brian works so hard outside, and when he comes home, you never show him any care.
"If you were a little gentler, you'd have a baby in no time."
I looked at her warm, caring face.
For ten years, she'd always greeted me with a smile.
She'd give me gifts during holidays, and remind me to dress warmly when the weather turned cold.
I used to think she really cared about me.
But every word from that phone call just now felt like needles in my ears.
She said I was too soft to make a scene.
I set my glass down and said, "I've got something to take care of at home, so I'll head out now."
Mary walked me to the door.
"Go home and talk it over with Brian. Don't keep putting off the whole baby thing," she said.
I stepped into the elevator.
As the doors slid shut, I braced myself against the wall and doubled over.
My stomach churned.
But I didn't cry.
It wasn't that I didn't want to.
It just wasn't worth it.