When I returned home, the house was quiet, a stark contrast to the noise in my head. I placed the envelope on the kitchen table and sat down, staring at it as if it might offer some sort of explanation. My spouse was due home any minute, and I knew I had to gather my thoughts before they arrived.
The past few months had been a blur of work and routine, with little time for anything else. My spouse had taken over the finances with the promise of making things easier on both of us. I had agreed, grateful for the reprieve, but now I wondered if I had been too trusting.
The sound of the front door opening pulled me from my thoughts. My spouse stepped into the kitchen, offering a tired smile. “Hey, you’re home early,” they said, setting their bag down on the counter.
“Yeah, I had some things to take care of,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. “I stopped by the bank today.”
There was a brief pause before they responded. “Oh? Everything okay?” They asked casually, but I couldn’t help but notice the slight tension in their voice.
“I need to talk to you about our finances,” I said, gesturing to the envelope on the table. “There are some charges I don’t understand, and I think we need to go over them together.”
My spouse looked at the envelope, their expression unreadable. “Sure, we can do that,” they said, sitting down across from me. “Let’s take a look.”
As we began to sift through the papers, a sense of unease settled over the room. The truth was there, hidden in the numbers, and as we delved deeper, I knew we were on the precipice of something that could change everything.
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