— Just sitting here, — my heart sank somewhere into my heels.
He came up from behind and looked over my shoulder, breathing heavy wine fumes.
— What kind of side job is this? I hope it’s free? — he asked suspiciously.
I went cold. An empty Word document was open on the screen.
— Helping a colleague, she’s swamped with her diploma. Just friendly, — I lied, trying to keep my voice from trembling. It was the first lie that came to mind.
— Just friendly, — he chuckled, moving away to the bed. — Watch it. Because if you’re slaving away here for money at night, be kind enough to give half to the family budget. For utilities. We have everything fair. Don’t forget.
He collapsed onto the bed and started snoring almost immediately. And I sat without moving, listening to my heart beating wildly. Fear mixed with a strange, bitter satisfaction. He couldn’t even imagine how far I was from “friendly” help.
The next day I transferred all the earned money to a new account in another bank, and hid that bank’s app in the furthest folder on my phone. This game was becoming more dangerous, but also more exciting. I learned to lie while looking him in the eye. When he asked why I was so tired, I complained about a pile-up at my main job. When he grumbled that I was always sitting at the laptop, I said I was reading a book or watching a TV series.
He noticed nothing. Consumed by his car, his savings, and his imaginary righteousness, he stopped seeing me as a person. I became a function for him: a neighbor who contributes her share for the apartment and cooks dinner from cheap chicken legs. And this blindness of his became my main advantage. He himself gave me the perfect cover for my secret war.
Two months later, a decent sum had accumulated in my secret account. I completed a big project, edited a whole novel for a graphomaniac author, and he paid generously for urgency. Looking at the numbers in the banking app, for the first time in a long time, I felt not just confidence, but power.
During my lunch break, I went to the shopping center. Not aimlessly, but with a specific task. I went into an expensive boutique, which I always passed with a wistful sigh, and bought it. A coffee-colored cashmere coat I had dreamed of for the last three years. It cost almost two of my official salaries. Paying with my secret card, I felt a dizzying rush of freedom. It wasn’t just a coat, it was my trophy.
In the evening, I put it on and started waiting for Denis. I wasn’t scared, I was curious. He entered the apartment, pulling off his boots on the go, and froze in the hallway doorway when he saw me. His gaze slowly slid from my face to the new item. His eyes narrowed.
— What is this? — he asked quietly, but steel rang in that silence.
— A coat, — I answered calmly, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
— I’m not blind. Where from? — he stepped towards me.
— Bought it.
— Bought it?! — his voice broke into a scream. — Are you out of your mind? With what money did you buy it? What did you save on? On food? Or did you beg your parents again? Disgracing me!
He grabbed me by the shoulder, but I didn’t even flinch. I slowly turned to him, looked him straight in the eyes. Coldly, without a shadow of fear. And smiled.
— Calm down, Denis, I didn’t beg anything from anyone and didn’t save. I just sold something unnecessary.
— Unnecessary? What? — he wouldn’t let up.
I held the pause, enjoying his confusion and anger.
— I sold Grandma’s earrings. The ones you always called tacky “gypsy style” and told me never to wear.
It was pure improvisation, but brilliant. The earrings were indeed in the jewelry box, and he really did hate them. His jaw dropped, he looked at me, unable to find words.
— I took them to an appraiser, — I continued in an icy tone, enjoying every second. — It turned out to be antique gold with real garnets. They gave me so much for them that it was enough for the coat, and there was still some left. By the way, it turned out they are worth more than the down payment for your tub…
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