“How much were you trying to borrow?”
He swallowed.
“Forty thousand.”
My hands tightened around the edge of the table.
“You were trying to borrow another forty thousand dollars?”
“I thought I could make the payments.”
“With what?”
He looked at me.
“Your income.”
That answer destroyed the last bit of sympathy I had left.
Because now I finally understood.
Nathan didn’t see my paycheck as something I earned.
He saw it as something available to him.
And that was the moment I stopped thinking about how to save our marriage.
I started thinking about how to protect myself.
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THE PLAN
I asked Nathan to give me every financial document he had.
Every credit-card statement.
Every loan agreement.
Every collection letter.
Every account.
Every payment record.
Everything.
He resisted at first.
Then I said:
“If you don’t give them to me voluntarily, I’ll find another way to get the information I need.”
