The following morning, I called the bank.
I didn't make any accusations.
I simply asked for information about our joint account.
I wanted to understand the balance, the recent withdrawals, and the account activity.
The representative verified my identity.
Then she explained that several transactions had occurred over the previous months.
I wrote down the amounts.
Some were ordinary household expenses.
Others were transfers.
I asked for copies of the statements.
She explained how I could access them through the online banking system.
I thanked her.
Then I opened my laptop.
The first transfer was relatively small.
The second was larger.
The third had happened two weeks before our anniversary.
I stared at the screen.
The money had gone to an account I didn't recognize.
I checked the description.
It was listed as a personal transfer.
I wrote down the date.
Then I checked another.
There were more.
I sat completely still.
I had trusted Julian to handle certain financial arrangements because he was better at paperwork than I was.
I had never imagined he would use that trust to move money without discussing it with me.
I printed the statements.
Then I placed them in a folder.
I wasn't going to confront him until I understood exactly what had happened.
At lunchtime, Denise came over again.
She looked at the papers on my desk.
"Big project?"
"Something like that."
She smiled.
"You're usually more cheerful."
I looked at her.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Have you ever discovered something about someone you loved that completely changed how you remembered your past?"
Her smile disappeared.
She pulled out the chair beside me.
"Yes."
I looked down.
"What did you do?"
"First, I stopped blaming myself for not knowing."
I looked up.
She continued.
"People can hide things very well, Claire. That doesn't mean you were foolish for trusting them."
I felt my eyes sting.
I nodded.
Then I thanked her.
It was the first time in days that someone had said something that made me feel less ashamed.
That evening, Julian received a call from Helga.
He answered in German.
I was sitting in the living room.
The television was on.
He walked toward the hallway.
I could still hear him.
"She doesn't understand yet."
I stopped turning the pages of my book.
Then I heard Helga's voice.
It was faint, but I recognized it.
Julian continued.
"We need more time."
A pause.
"Yes. I know."
He lowered his voice.
"I'll handle the money."
My fingers tightened around the book.
The money.
Again.
When he returned, I looked up.
"Your mother?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Everything okay?"
"Just family matters."
I closed my book.
"Does your mother know about the transfers from our joint account?"
His face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
"What transfers?"
I looked directly at him.
"The money you've been moving."
He placed his phone on the table.
"Claire, don't start."
"I'm asking a question."
He pulled out a chair.
"Those were temporary arrangements."
"Temporary arrangements for what?"
He sighed.
"Business expenses."
I looked at him.
"Then why are they not listed as business expenses?"
He became quiet.
I had never questioned him this directly before.
Finally, he said:
"I'll explain everything later."
I nodded.
"That's what you've been saying about everything."
He stood up.
"Not tonight."
Then he walked upstairs.
I waited until I heard the bedroom door close.
Then I returned to the printed statements.
There was something else I hadn't noticed.
The largest transfer had happened shortly after one of Julian's trips to Chicago.
I checked the date.
Then I checked the hotel charge.
They were only two days apart.
I wrote both dates down.
I didn't know what the money had been used for.
But I knew it wasn't something I had agreed to.
The next day, Sophie sent me a message.
It contained a photograph of a text conversation.
Julian had asked her to send him the estimated costs of the baby's first year.
She had replied with a list.
Medical expenses.
Clothing.
A crib.
A stroller.
Basic supplies.
Then Julian had asked whether she would be comfortable with his family helping manage the money.
Sophie had answered that she wanted to make her own decisions as the child's mother.
Julian had replied:
"We'll discuss it later."
I stared at the screen.
I remembered the joint account transfers.
I wondered whether he had already been arranging financial support without telling me.
I called Sophie.
"Did he ever give you money?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Several payments."
I closed my eyes.
"From where?"
"I don't know. He said it was from his savings."
I looked at the bank statements.
I didn't tell her what I had found.
Not yet.
I asked her to keep the payment records.
She agreed.
Then I asked whether she knew about Helga's plans.
Sophie sighed.
"His mother called me last week."
"What did she say?"
"She asked whether I was prepared to let the baby spend most of its time with Julian's family."
I gripped my phone.
"What did you tell her?"
"I said I wanted to raise my child."
There was a long pause.
Then Sophie said:
"She told me that I was being selfish."
I closed my eyes.
I could almost hear Helga saying it.
The same woman who had smiled at me across the dinner table.
The same woman who had discussed taking another woman's baby into my home.
Apparently, everyone had an opinion about what Sophie should do.
And everyone expected her to agree.
That evening, I placed the bank statements on the kitchen table.
Julian came home and noticed them immediately.
He stopped.
"What's this?"
I looked at him.
"Our account statements."
He picked up the top page.
Then he put it down.
"Why are you looking through these?"
"Because I want to understand where our money is going."
He pulled out a chair.
"Claire, I've already told you. It's business."
I tapped one of the transfers.
"Explain this one."
He looked at the page.
Then he looked at me.
His expression had changed.
I waited.
Finally, he said:
"I was helping someone."
I nodded slowly.
"Sophie?"
He didn't answer.
That silence was enough.
I picked up the papers.
"From now on, I want every financial decision discussed with me."
He stared at me.
"You don't trust me?"
I looked directly into his eyes.
"Not anymore."
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: Helga Invited Me to Discuss the Baby Again, but This Time I Arrived With Questions Nobody Wanted to Answer
My Husband Thought I Was Too Clueless to Understand His Family’s Secret Language, Until One Dinner Changed Everything
Part 10 of 20
