I slumped on the side of the road. My mind was blank except for the buzzing sound. 

I never really paid attention to my Instagram feed. 

But when I received a Venmo transfer notification from my husband, Spencer Freeman, I found it strange and decided to check what was going on on Instagram. 

What I found waiting for me, though, made me sick to the stomach. 

Shannon Lambert was the college student Spencer had sponsored eight years ago. 

Back then, I’d had an accidental miscarriage. Spencer, trying to do some good, claimed he was helping me by donating in honor of the baby. 

For years, I’d blamed myself, thinking it was my fault the baby was gone. It became my trauma, one that kept me from having another child even now. 

Staring at Shannon’s profile picture, I realized it looked exactly like mine on Venmo. Spencer must have gotten it wrong. 

I took a deep breath and left a comment on her latest post. “If you love him this much, why not just get married already?” 

Barely half a minute later, Spencer’s video call came through. His face was tense. He immediately started yelling at me, “Yvonne Sinclair, are you out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you? 

“Today’s my birthday, and Shannon sent me a gift early. I was just returning the favor. Was that comment really necessary?” 

I looked at myself in the video. I was only 30, but I looked like I’d aged years. It was almost laughable. 

I paused, then asked, “I know it’s your birthday. Didn’t I take time off to cook you a birthday feast?” 

Spencer frowned impatiently. “That 100 bucks worth of food? The money for the groceries came from me! Don’t act like you did it for me!” 

I gave a bitter laugh. 

For the past ten years, he’d always claimed the company was struggling, he couldn’t get promoted, there was too much debt, and he had no money. 

So, after work, I would stay up late writing web novels on the side. I even handed over most of my monthly salary to him. 

I had no money, but that was because I was supporting this family. 

But Spencer actually transferred me 100 thousand dollars so casually just moments ago. 

Any fool could see that he’d been lying to me all along. 

The only one who’d been truly living in poverty was me. 

When he noticed that I had gone quiet, his tone softened, but it was laced with an almost imperceptible indifference. “Forget it. I know you just want what’s best for me. 

“Let’s eat out today. I’ll invite Shannon, and you can apologize to her in person. No need to buy groceries. By the way, transfer that 100 thousand dollars back to me.” 

I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up. 

How could I trust him? 

I composed myself and choked out, “Were you planning to transfer that 100 thousand dollars to Shannon for a handbag?” 

There was a moment of silence on the other end before he replied almost dismissively, “I’m just transferring it to her so she can post it on her feed. She’s been trying to build her brand as an influencer. She needs to get attention. 

“You wouldn’t understand, so I didn’t tell you. She’ll send it back to me once she’s done. Besides, it’s not my money.” 

His words made my skin crawl. Something about this didn’t sit right. I intentionally cut the video and held the phone away. “I can’t hear you. Hold on a second.” 

As I said this, I turned on the recording feature and then reopened the video. “Okay, bad signal earlier. What were you saying?” 

He went on, “It’s not my money. You know I don’t have any. It’s the company’s money, and I need to pay it back. You don’t want me to go to jail, do you?!” 

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “So, you’re saying you’re embezzling company funds just so Shannon could show off?” 

There was a long pause on the other end. When he finally spoke again, it was only to threaten me. “Listen carefully, Yvonne Sinclair. You’d better transfer that money back today, or I’ll divorce you!”