Chapter 6 - True Colors
For several long moments, Darcy simply stared at the numbers. Then, a dark, desperate calculation crept into his eyes.
"Fine," he said, pushing his chair back and standing up. "If that's how you want to play it, Claire. If you want to be a cold-blooded accountant instead of a wife, then we'll handle it my way. We have joint accounts. I have legal access to our household funds."
I watched him quietly as he pulled his laptop from his briefcase, flipped it open on the dining table, and began aggressively typing in our online banking credentials.
"I'll pay the bursar tonight from our primary checking," Darcy muttered under his breath, clicking the mouse with furious energy. "And I'll transfer enough to secure her a new lease tomorrow. You think you can control us with your money? You think you're the only one who has rights in this marriage?"
He clicked the final login screen.
Then he stopped.
He leaned closer to the monitor, squinting at the screen. His fingers frantically hit the refresh button once. Twice. Three times.
"What is this?" he whispered, his voice rising in pitch. "Where is the money? Claire! Where is the balance?"
"The joint checking account has twelve hundred dollars in it," I said smoothly. "Which represents your bi-weekly contribution toward shared groceries and utilities. That money is untouched."
"There was eighty-five thousand dollars in the reserve liquidity account yesterday!" Darcy screamed, slamming both fists onto the table so hard the water glasses rattled. "Where is the eighty-five thousand dollars?!"
"That money was earned solely through my private accounting firm’s retained earnings," I answered, not flinching an inch. "I deposited it into a revocable trust under my name three years ago, before we amended the joint account structure. This morning, following my consultation with my attorney, I exercised my legal authority to sever the joint sweep agreement and transfer my personal assets back into my sole entity account."
"You stole our money!"
"I moved *my* money," I corrected. "Check your salary deposits, Darcy. Every cent of your sixty-two thousand dollar annual salary as a logistics coordinator has gone into your personal checking account. I haven't touched a penny of your earnings. In fact, I haven't charged you a single dollar of rent for living in my house for four years."
Darcy stood there, staring at the monitor, his chest heaving as the brutal reality of his financial situation crashed down upon him.
He made sixty-two thousand dollars a year before taxes. After deductions, his monthly take-home was roughly thirty-six hundred dollars. Shay’s outstanding college tuition alone was eighteen thousand four hundred dollars—more than five full months of his total net income. Shay’s car note was six hundred and eighty dollars. Her rent was twenty-four hundred dollars.
He couldn't even afford to pay her apartment rent for two months, let alone save her graduation.
"Claire..." Darcy sank back down into his chair, his hands trembling as he covered his face. The aggressive, domineering husband was gone, replaced by a desperate, trapped man. "Please. Please don't do this. I'm begging you. If Shay doesn't finish this semester, everything she worked for is gone. She’ll lose her mind. I can't pay this. You know I can't pay this!"
"You should have thought about that before you allowed her to treat me like dirt under her shoes," I said, my voice showing no mercy. "You let her believe she was a princess who could spit on the person feeding her. You created this monster, Darcy. Now you get to finance her."
"I'll make her apologize!" he pleaded, reaching across the table to grab my hand. I pulled my hand back before he could make contact. "I'll make her get down on her knees and beg your forgiveness, Claire! We'll do whatever you want! Just pay the tuition. Please, just wire the tuition to the school tomorrow morning!"
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"An apology bought with eighteen thousand dollars is not remorse, Darcy," I said, standing up from the table. "It's extortion. And I am no longer paying the ransom."
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