“Who were you texting?” he asked.
“Just checking the security alerts,” I said.
“We do not need extra sensors in this neighborhood,” he said, turning back toward the bedroom.
“The police reports said there was a break-in three blocks over last week,” I said.
“Those were teenagers looking for unlocked cars,” he said, his voice flat. “Don’t waste your money on tech we don’t need.”
“It helps me sleep when you are working late,” I said.
He did not reply to that. He walked down the hall, his bare feet making no sound on the runner.
At midnight, the bedroom was cold, and the rain on the leaded glass windows grew louder, a steady drumming that filled the silence between us.
Ethan stood by the dresser, unbuttoning his shirt and placing his silver cuff links in the small wooden tray.
“Are you still planning to deposit your quarterly bonus into the Mercer Custom account on Friday?” he asked.
“I want to sit down and go over our shared household expenses first,” I said.
He stopped unbuttoning his shirt and stared at the wall.
“My business is facing a temporary cash flow crunch, Natalie. I should not have to beg my wife for support.”
“We are partners, Ethan. That means we discuss major transfers before they happen.”
“Partners do not keep secrets,” he said.
He turned his back to me, pulled the heavy duvet over his shoulders, and lay in silence.
I lay awake in the dark, listening to the rain, wondering if he would look up at the pantry door tomorrow.
I sat at my desk at Brookstone Risk Partners, the gold watch of my grandmother heavy against my wrist as I watched the morning rain stream down the leaded glass windows. Clara, my assistant, carried in the fresh corporate mail along with two mugs of black coffee that smelled faintly of chicory. The office was quiet at nine in the morning, the blue carpet absorbing the sound of the street traffic below.
“The tax folders came from the auditor,” Clara said, setting the stack on the corner of my polished desk. “And there is a certified letter from First Commonwealth addressed to you personally.”
