My Husband Kept Me Poor to Spoil His Mistress

Synopsis

The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the scratch of my pen against the grocery list. Black Friday, and I was standing in my worn apron, calculator in hand, trying to make our holiday budget stretch just a little further. The old Honda needed new tires, and James had been eyeing that science kit for months. "Mom, can I have a snack?" James called from the living room. "Just fruit, sweetheart," I replied, not looking up from my spreadsheet. "Dinner's almost ready." Ten years of this routine had made me an expert in stretching pennies. Ten years of believing we were just getting by, that Rhys's middle-management job barely covered our needs. Ten years of clipping coupons and shopping sales while he worked late nights and weekends. The iPad on the counter was Rhys's—he'd left it charging while he showered upstairs. I'd never been nosy about his devices.