If he wanted to take a vacation using my bank account, then I was going to end that vacation.
Immediately.
By the time I got home that evening, my plan was already in motion.
Our finances were simple.
We had a joint account for bills, and separate personal accounts for everything else. The debit card Ethan had taken by “accident” belonged to my personal account.
Which meant I had complete control over it.
I opened my laptop and began moving money.
Savings.
Checking.
Emergency fund.
Every dollar I had went into a new account Ethan couldn’t touch.
The process took less than fifteen minutes.
After that, I froze the debit card.
Then I called the bank.
“I’d like to report unauthorized use,” I told the representative calmly.
“Of course, ma’am,” she replied.
I gave her the details.
The location.
The charges.
The suspicious travel activity.
“Your card will remain frozen while we investigate,” she said.
Perfect.
By tomorrow morning, Ethan would be stranded in paradise with no way to pay for anything.
And no idea why.
The call came the next day at noon.
I was sitting at my desk when my phone buzzed.
ETHAN
I stared at his name for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
The panic in his voice was immediate.
“Lauren—thank God you picked up.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“What’s wrong?”
“My card isn’t working,” he blurted. “The hotel says the payment declined and they’re asking for another one. Something’s wrong with the account.”
I pretended to think.
“Well… that’s strange.”
“It’s more than strange,” he said desperately. “They’re saying the card is frozen.”
“Oh.”
“Did you freeze it?” he asked quickly.
I tilted my head, smiling slightly.
“Well, that depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Why someone is using my card in Hawaii.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then:
“…Lauren.”
“Yes?”
“I—”
He stopped.
The lie he had prepared about New York was suddenly useless.
I decided to help him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Manhattan right now?”
Another long pause.
Then Ethan exhaled slowly.
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not in New York.”
“Oh?”
I kept my voice light.
“So where are you?”
“Hawaii,” he said quietly.
“Honolulu?”
“…Yes.”
“With whom?”
I could almost hear his brain scrambling.
“A friend.”
“A female friend?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
The truth.
Not the full truth—but enough.
“Well,” I said, “that sounds lovely.”
