Chapter 4
I called the bank from Tessa’s kitchen.
The representative confirmed that the $4,218 charge wasn’t fraud. Owen was a joint account holder, which meant he had the authority to make the payment. I couldn’t reverse it simply because I hadn’t known about it.
“Then freeze both credit cards,” I said.
She warned me that my card would stop working too.
“Freeze them.”
A confirmation appeared on my phone before the call ended.
When I set the phone down, a cramp folded me over the table. Tessa reached toward me, but I shook my head and waited for it to pass. My body had not caught up with the decisions I was already making.
She placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of me. “Eat something.”
“After I change my direct deposit.”
“The money won’t disappear in the next ten minutes.”
“Owen spent more than four thousand dollars last night proving that it might.”
She stopped arguing and pushed the spoon closer.
I logged into the hospital’s employee system and redirected my next paycheck to the personal account I had opened before my marriage.
I left the existing balance in our joint account untouched.
The mortgage, utilities, and insurance still had to be paid. I wasn’t going to create another crisis by draining everything.
Then I called the attorney available through my employee legal plan.
Her name was Rachel Kim. She didn’t ask why I was dealing with my marriage the morning after a miscarriage. She asked only what she needed to know: Did we own property together? Did we share any debts? Did we have minor children?
“No living children,” I said.
She paused, then softened her voice. “I’m sorry. What do you want to accomplish today?”
“A formal notice of separation. No nonessential spending without both of us agreeing. And I want all further communication documented.”
Rachel said she would send the notice that afternoon. She also warned me that separating wouldn’t automatically end obligations we had already taken on together.
That sent me back to the bank statement.
I didn’t search through years of transactions. Directly beneath the birthday payment was the same charge on the same day of every month.
Harbor View Properties: $2,350.
Eleven consecutive payments.
The memo contained only an apartment number.
4B.
I knew that address.
The previous winter, Owen had told me the heat had failed in Beth’s apartment. He went over to help with repairs and came home after one in the morning. He said Maisie had a fever and Beth couldn’t manage alone.
I had left dinner warming for him.
My phone rang. Owen’s name filled the screen. I put him on speaker and left the phone on the table.
“You froze the cards?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Elena, I know the party cost more than it should have, but the venue had to be booked in advance. Beth paid what she could.”
“Who lives in Harbor View, apartment 4B?”
A short breath came through the speaker.
“Beth.”
“Why has our account been paying her rent?”
“We’re not paying her rent. Her credit wasn’t strong enough when she moved in, so I helped temporarily. She’s been paying me back.”
“Where?”
“Sometimes in cash. Sometimes I buy things for Maisie and we balance it that way. We don’t need to go through every dollar right now.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Elena, you left the hospital a few hours ago.” His voice turned gentle. “You need to rest. Don’t turn everything into a betrayal because you’re hurting.”
“My attorney is sending you a separation notice. From now on, nonessential spending requires both of us to agree.”
“Your attorney?”
His voice rose. I ended the call.
At ten, I requested a video meeting with my supervisor, Marisol.
I managed St. Anne’s community partnership with the fire department, and Owen’s Station 14 was our primary partner.
Our private finances were now tied to people featured in that project. I couldn’t pretend there was no conflict.
Marisol listened without asking for details about the miscarriage.
“You were right to disclose this,” she said. “Effective today, you’re recused from Station 14’s budget, publicity, and event approvals. Derek will handle Friday’s presentation.”
That presentation was supposed to support my application for a director position.
“How long am I recused?”
“Until we’re satisfied there’s no ongoing conflict.”
After the meeting, I forced down several bites of cold oatmeal.
That afternoon, Rachel sent me a copy of the separation notice. Minutes later, the Harbor View property manager returned my call.
“Mrs. Reed, Beth Carter is the tenant in 4B. Owen Reed is the lease guarantor, and your joint account is listed for payment.”
“When does the lease end?”
“Next April.”
Eleven months away.
Owen hadn’t covered Beth’s rent a few times.
He had promised that our money would keep funding her home.