***
The next morning, I met my best friend, Jenny, for coffee.
Jenny knew something was wrong before I sat down.
“Chris took money from our anniversary account,” I said. “He used it to cover another family dinner.”
He walked away anyway.
“Without asking?”
I nodded.
“Did you tell him about the tickets?”
“No. I needed him to understand the betrayal before I showed him what it cost.”
“And did he?”
“Without asking?”
“He told me to go to bed.”
Jenny listened without interrupting.
“What do you need him to understand?”
“That every time he says paying is easier, he means easier for everyone except me.”
“Then stop making it easy.”
I folded the napkin.
“I already have.”
“He told me to go to bed.”
