Budgeting is my thing. I track every household transaction because it keeps me in control. It makes me feel secure. So when my husband, Eric, snapped at me for asking about a charge on our account, something didn’t sit right. Then, I found a $380 receipt for a baby stroller in his car. That’s when I stopped asking questions and started looking for answers… because we don’t have a baby.
I’ve always been the kind of person who tracks every single dollar. Not because I want to control everything, but because it gives me peace of mind. Numbers are simple. They don’t lie. People, on the other hand… people are unpredictable. And lately, my husband Eric had been acting strange.
It was a Friday night, my usual time for checking our bank statements. A glass of wine sat next to me as I organized our expenses. Mortgage. Groceries. Bills. Savings. Everything fit neatly into a category, just like always.
Then, I saw it.
A single transaction for $380. One large withdrawal that didn’t fit our usual spending habits.
I took a sip of wine, staring at the screen. My gut told me something was off. The charge wasn’t from the grocery store or the gas station. It was from a place I didn’t recognize.
In the kitchen, Eric was making dinner. The scent of garlic and olive oil filled the air as he chopped vegetables. His dark hair fell over his forehead, just the way I used to love. But at that moment, I wasn’t thinking about how much I loved him. I was thinking about that $380.
“Hey, did you make a big purchase recently?” I asked casually. “There’s a $380 charge on the card ending in 12.”
For a split second, his knife paused. Then, he kept chopping. “Probably just gas and groceries,” he said, voice even.
“It was one transaction. Not multiple.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I filled up the tank and grabbed some stuff at the store the same day.”
“It’s from a place I don’t recognize.”
This time, the chopping stopped completely. His shoulders stiffened. When he finally turned to face me, his jaw was tight.
“Why are you interrogating me like I’m on trial, Luna?”
The sharpness in his voice sent a chill through me.
“I’m not interrogating you,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “I’m asking about our account. Like I always do.”
His hands clenched into fists. “You’re always so paranoid! Just because you handle the budget doesn’t mean I need to explain every little thing I buy.”
His anger startled me. In five years of marriage, he had never spoken to me like that.
“Since when is asking about a $380 charge ‘paranoid’?” I countered.
“Just drop it, okay?” He tossed the onions into the pan. “Not everything needs your approval.”
I didn’t say another word. But something inside me shifted.
That night, as I lay in bed beside him, listening to his steady breathing, I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept turning over his reaction. Why had he been so defensive?
Was he hiding something?
The next morning, Eric moved around the kitchen like nothing had happened. He handed me a cup of coffee, as if his words the night before had never been spoken.
“Don’t forget we’re switching cars today,” he reminded me. “Your appointment’s at four, right?”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yeah. I’ll clean yours out before I take it.”
The rest of the morning passed slowly. While he watched TV, I called my sister from the bedroom.
“Am I crazy, Jen?” I whispered. “He acted like I accused him of murder.”
“People get weird about money,” she said. “But defensiveness usually means something’s up.”
By the time Eric announced he was going to take a shower, my stomach was in knots.
I grabbed his car keys and headed to the driveway. His car smelled like coffee and the woodsy cologne he always wore. I opened the glove compartment to put away the registration papers.
That’s when I saw it.
A crumpled receipt, barely visible beneath the car manual.
I pulled it out, my hands turning cold as I read the words printed in neat black ink.
$379.89. Stroller + Car Seat Combo from Tiny Treasurezz.
I froze.
We didn’t have a baby. We weren’t expecting one. And we weren’t even trying.
Tiny Treasurezz. The baby boutique in Ridgewood Heights. Ten minutes from where his coworker Rachel lived.
Rachel. The pretty, pregnant coworker I had met once at a company holiday party. The one Eric had mentioned in passing—“She’s doing it all on her own.”
Oh my God.
The room tilted. My breathing became shallow. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone.
Rachel’s number was in Eric’s contacts.
I saved it to my phone, then walked outside. The afternoon sun felt too bright, too warm, too normal for what was happening inside me.
I pressed call.
Three rings. Then, a soft, hesitant voice. “Hello?”
“Rachel? This is Luna. Eric’s wife.”
Silence. I heard the intake of her breath.
“I… I know this is strange,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “But I need to talk to you. It’s important. Please don’t mention this call to Eric.”
Another silence. Then: “Okay. When?”
“Today. Cloudsidez Café. Four o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
The call ended, but I remained frozen, gripping my phone, trying to breathe through the panic rising in my chest.
The café was busy, but I spotted Rachel immediately. Her honey-blonde hair, her round belly, her blue sweater stretched tight.
She didn’t smile when I sat down.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” she admitted, holding her coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping her steady.
I placed the receipt between us. “I found this in Eric’s car.”
Her face paled as she read it. Then, her eyes met mine with a look of utter shock.
“Oh my God.”
“Rachel,” I whispered. “Why is my husband buying you a stroller?”
Her voice shook. “Your husband?” She blinked. “Eric told me you two were separated. That you moved out months ago.”
The world spun. “WHAT??”
“He said he was helping you transition while he found his own place. He’s been staying with me three nights a week.”
Everything clicked into place.
Every “client trip.” Every late night at work. Every excuse.
My hands clenched into fists. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t paranoid.
I had been right all along.
Rachel’s voice was small. “What do we do now?”
Something hardened inside me. “We make sure he never gets to lie to either of us again.”
And just like that, Eric’s double life came crashing down. But he wasn’t ready for the surprise we had in store for him.
*** To Be Continued… ***
