The door creaked open, and my wife stood there, her expression unreadable. “Can we talk?” I asked, trying to sound more curious than accusatory.
“About what?” she replied, her voice calm but distant.
“This,” I said, holding up the statement. “The charges to Green Path Consulting. I don’t recognize them.”
She looked at the paper, then back at me, her eyes steady. “It’s nothing to worry about,” she said, turning away.
I followed her into the room, the light dimmer here, casting long shadows across the bed. “Nothing to worry about?” I echoed, trying to keep my tone neutral. “It’s a lot of money, and I just want to understand what’s going on.”
She sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s for a project,” she said finally. “A personal thing I’m working on.”
“A personal thing?” I repeated, trying to hide my surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s not finished yet,” she replied, her voice edged with frustration. “I didn’t want to explain until I knew it was going somewhere.”
I nodded, mulling over her words. “Can you at least tell me what kind of project?”
Her silence was answer enough. I realized I wasn’t going to get more out of her today. But I wasn’t ready to let it go either.
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