Chapter 1
My bank account was missing 1.3 thousand dollars.
I stared at my phone screen and refreshed it again.
Sure enough, every month on the 15th, there was an automatic deduction.
I didn't recognize the recipient.
I checked last month's statement. The deduction was there, too.
I looked back even further, and it was the same thing.
I stopped scrolling. My fingers felt a little numb.
In the kitchen, my husband, Andrew Barton, was cooking. The sound of the spatula hitting the pan echoed through the room.
Just yesterday, he'd said, "If we keep saving, next year we'll definitely buy a house."
I slapped my phone down on the table, screen facing down.
*****
That day at noon, I was trying to check my phone bill.
I logged in to the mobile app, and the notification said I could link my bank card for automatic payments.
I thought about it and opened my bank app to check my balance.
It showed 200 dollars.
I froze for a second.
I'd just gotten paid 2.7 thousand the day before yesterday. After giving 600 dollars to my mother-in-law, Emma Barton, for household expenses, I should have had 2.1 thousand left.
There was no way I could have spent that much in just two days.
I checked the details.
On the 15th, there was an automatic deduction of 1.3 thousand. The recipient was Bonnie Curry.
I recognized that name.
She was Andrew's ex-wife.
I sat frozen on the couch. My phone screen was glowing, that line of text staring right back at me.
That was 1.3 thousand dollars.
Last month, I was at the supermarket and saw a carton of milk for 18 dollars. I stared at it twice, but didn't take it in the end.
Andrew had told me, "We've got milk at home. No need to waste money."
I scrolled back through the transaction history.
There was nothing on the 14th or the 13th.
But on the 15th, there it was, 1.3 thousand dollars.
I checked the previous month. On the 15th, there was a record of 1.3 thousand.
I kept going back.
But on the 15th, there it was, 1.3 thousand dollars.
It was the same day, same amount, and same name every single time.
The recipient was Bonnie Curry.
I turned off my phone.
From the kitchen, Andrew called out, "Daniella, dinner's ready."
He came out carrying two bowls, one with mashed potatoes and the other with vegetable salad.
"The veggies were on sale today. Potatoes were just 40 cents," he said with a smile.
I looked at him.
He still had his apron on, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and his hands were still wet.
His smile was so natural, just like every day for the past five years.
"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing I hadn't picked up my fork.
"Nothing," I said.
I picked up my fork and took a bite of mashed potato.
I chewed it twice.
It had no flavor.
After dinner, Andrew went to wash the dishes. The sound of rushing water filled the apartment.
I slipped into the bedroom, closed the door behind me, and opened my bank app once more.
This time, I went all the way back to the very beginning.
I started checking from January this year.
In January, there was a deduction of 1.3 thousand. So were the February and March.
Last year, in January and February, I saw a record of 1.3 thousand dollars.
Two years ago, in January, 1.3 thousand dollars was deducted from my card.
Three years ago, there it was.
I decided not to scroll anymore.
I went straight to the very first transaction.
The date was October 15th, five years ago.
Andrew and I got married five years ago in September.
Five years ago, October was the very next month after we tied the knot.
That was when the deductions started.
I leaned back against the headboard, my eyes drifting to that pale yellow water stain on the ceiling.
It had been there since our first year in this place. Andrew used to say, "Once we buy a house, it'll all be fixed."
Five years had gone by, and that stain was still there.
It had been five years, and we were still stuck renting.
The bedroom door swung open.
"Daniella, the apples are washed," Andrew called.
He handed me a plate with three apples, cut into pieces and arranged neatly.
I gazed at the plate of apples.
His hands looked so clean.
I wondered when he used those hands to set up the automatic payments with my card.
"Not going to eat?" Andrew tilted his head at me.
"Yeah, I'll eat," I said, taking the plate from him.
He walked out.
I put a piece of apple in my mouth.
It tasted sweet.
Five years, and the way he cut apples hadn't changed at all.
His smile hadn't changed, either.
Even the way he said, "Let's save a little more," was still the same.
I suddenly remembered something.
Our first winter after getting married, I got a cold. My fever hit 102°F. I told Andrew I needed to go to the hospital.
He said, "Taking a cab is too expensive. I'll give you a ride on my bike."
It was 24°F outside.
We rode for twenty minutes. By the time we got to the hospital, my lips had turned purple.
On the 15th of that month, 1.3 thousand dollars disappeared from my account, as usual.
It was right on time, not a penny off.
I ate all the apples on the plate, leaving none behind.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Andrew, on the other hand, was out cold. He lay on his side, breathing evenly.
I listened to his breathing, steady and regular, like a pendulum swinging back and forth.
Back then, that sound used to make me feel safe.
Now, it just sounded like a countdown.
I rolled over and closed my eyes, but all I could see in my mind was that line of text.
The figure 1.3 thousand dollars kept coming to my mind.
It had been five years, sixty months.
I couldn't even bring myself to do the math. I was too afraid to see the total.