“Everything.”
She twisted the paper towel in her hands.
“My paycheck goes into the joint account.”
“And you can’t access it?”
She shook her head.
“He changed the passwords.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“When?”
“Almost two years ago.”
“Why?”
Rachel gave a bitter little laugh.
“He said I was spending too much.”
“On what?”
“Groceries. Clothes. Lunch at work.”
I stared at her.
“That isn’t overspending.”
“I know.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
That was when I understood she had been telling herself the same thing for a long time.
I moved closer.
“Rachel, why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know how.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
I had spent years believing she was living some perfect life.
Meanwhile, she had been trying to figure out how to explain that she couldn’t even buy dessert on her own birthday.
“What about the flowers?” I asked.
She looked at me.
“What?”
“The vacations. The jewelry. All of it.”
Rachel’s face changed.
She looked almost angry now.
“That’s his money.”
“No. If your paycheck goes into the account, some of it is yours.”
“I know that too.”
“Then why does he act like he’s giving you everything?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because that’s what he wants everyone to think.”
There it was.
The first crack in the picture I had accepted for years.
Rachel looked down at her hands.
“The trips are his idea. The jewelry is what he wants to buy. The flowers are what he wants people to see.”
I thought about every Friday arrangement.
Every anniversary photo.
Every time I had envied how loved she seemed.
“What happens if you want something?”
