Laura paused.
“Sometimes that is useful.”
Ethan thanked her and ended the call.
He remained standing beside the bed.
A home equity line.
He tried to remember every conversation about the house during the previous six months.
Samantha had mentioned remodeling the kitchen.
She had sent him photographs of white cabinets and a larger island.
Ethan said they should wait until the following year.
She had not argued much.
She had mentioned investing in a small wellness studio with a friend from work.
Ethan had said he wanted to see the business plan before using shared money.
Samantha had laughed and said it was only an idea.
She had mentioned that Dylan once owned rental properties.
No.
Ethan stopped himself.
He would not force every memory to fit the betrayal.
Laura was right.
Facts first.
He called the lender from the bedroom.
After twelve minutes of identity verification and transfers between departments, a representative confirmed that an application for a home equity line had been started online in August.
It had not been completed.
No line of credit had been opened.
The application included Samantha’s email address.
Ethan thanked the representative.
Then he sat down again.
The incomplete application should have reassured him.
Instead, it introduced a new question.
Why had Samantha explored borrowing against the house without telling him?
He heard footsteps outside the bedroom.
Samantha knocked once and entered before he answered.
She had changed into sweatpants and a gray shirt.
Without the green dress, she looked almost like the woman Ethan had known before the morning began.
That made the conversation harder.
“You packed fast,” she said.
“I do not need much.”
Samantha looked at the suitcase.
“Can we sit down tonight after you sleep?”
Ethan studied her.
“Maybe.”
“Just talk.”
“Maybe.”
“I will answer anything.”
Ethan thought of the transfers.
He thought of the home equity application.
He thought of Laura telling him to gather facts first.
He made a decision.
“Then answer one thing now.”
Samantha nodded.
“What were the transfers from savings for?”
Her face changed.
It was subtle.
It was still enough.
Ethan felt his exhaustion disappear for a moment.
“You already asked me that,” she said.
“You did not answer.”
Samantha sat in the chair near the window.
“It was money I lent someone.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the glass.
“Samantha.”
She exhaled.
“Dylan.”
Ethan stared at her.
The room became very quiet again.
“How much?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Ethan already knew the minimum.
“Twelve thousand?”
Samantha’s head turned sharply.
“How did you know that?”
