Page 126 of A Love That Broke Us
“What can I do?” he asks gently.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Find him?”
“I will. You need anything?”
“No.”
“Try to relax, okay? I know you don’t wanna mess up your makeup.”
I laugh-cry into the phone.
“Take some deep breaths, alright? I’ll see you at two.”
I nod again. “Okay. Thank you. See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
I end the call.
It’s noon now. My face is a mess, but I know I’m not done crying, so I put off fixing it.
I wander into the living room with my laptop, not finished playing detective. I need moreinformation.
I open it and then pull up the FindMy app on my phone. Jensen’s location is no longer even detectable. He turned off his sharing.
I scoff aloud.Figures.
I drop my phone beside me and navigate to my browser on the computer and log into our bank account.
I’m not sure what I expect to find. He uses his work card for most travel, but not everything is covered by his per diem. I just need some kind of proof—not even that he’s lying, but that noteverythinghe’s told me is a lie.
Maybe the drugs are old. Maybe he’s not using again. Maybe I’m just jumping to conclusions.
I’m surprised I even remember our login. I rarely check our bank accounts. Jensen handles all of that. I’ve never had to worry about paying bills or moving money around. He takes care of everything.
I navigate to our checking account, which has a good amount in it. Makes sense. It was payday for both of us this week.
I scroll through the transactions. Both paychecks deposited Thursday, and a large chunk was transferred to our savings. That’s normal. We always save on payday. I know Jensen moves money around for investments, too. He’s been working with a financial planner Matt introduced him to years ago.
A big credit card payment was made the day before. That also checks out. We use the card for just about everything.
I click into our savings next, expecting to see a solid number.
It has less than five thousand dollars in it.
That’s low. Way too low. Especially since I know he moves thousands in every other week. Maybe he transferred it somewhere else? Maybe to the investment account?
I scroll through the savings transactions and stop cold, my breath catching.
There are large ATM withdrawals every few days. Three to five days apart. Going back months.
Six hundred dollars here. Nine hundred there. Sometimes a thousand. Every time. Over and over again.
Holy shit. Why would anyone need so much cash?
As soon as I ask the question, I answer it.
Drugs.
