Chapter 9: Our Wedding Paid for Theirs

A week later, Miriam called me into her office with a discovery that changed the shape of the entire mess.

She placed several account statements in front of me.

"I need you to look at these transfers."

I recognized the joint savings account Isla and I had built for our wedding and future home renovations.

"What am I looking at?"

"Recurring transfers to Calder Educational Foundation."

My stomach sank.

The name sounded charitable. It wasn't.

Miriam had traced the foundation to a private entity created by Damien six months earlier.

"How much?"

"A little over eighty thousand dollars across nine months."

I stared at her.

"From our joint account?"

"Yes."

I felt stupid asking the next question.

"Could Isla have thought it was part of his sponsorship?"

"Possibly. But the transfer notes were manually entered. Several say wedding reserve reimbursement."

My hands went cold.

The wedding reserve was mostly money I had contributed after selling shares from an investment account my grandfather left me.

Isla had always earned more than I did. Because of that, I had insisted on paying a substantial part of our wedding myself. I wanted it to feel like ours, not another Farrow family event.

Somehow, part of that money had gone to Damien.

"Can we recover it?"

"That depends on authorization and where the money went. First, we need to know whether Ms. Farrow made the transfers."

I called Isla from Miriam's office.

She answered immediately.

"Nate?"

"Did you transfer money from our wedding account to Damien's foundation?"

Silence.

My chest tightened.

"Isla."

"Yes."

One word.

That was all it took.

"Why?"

"He was starting a community project. I meant to replace it."

"Eighty thousand dollars?"

"I know how it looks."

"How it looks?"

Miriam gave me a warning glance, reminding me to stay calm.

I lowered my voice.

"That account was ours."

"I was going to put it back before we needed it."

"You didn't ask me."

"Because you already hated Damien."

"I didn't hate him then."

She went silent.

That was the ugliest part.

Months earlier, before the marriage certificate, before the bar, before the hickey, I had actually defended her sponsorship of Damien. I had admired her for helping someone younger build a future.

She had hidden the transfers because some part of her already knew they crossed a line.

"Was the foundation real?" I asked.

"I thought it was."

"You thought?"

Her voice changed.

"What did your lawyer find?"

I looked at Miriam.

"We'll send everything formally."

Isla inhaled sharply.

"Nate, don't turn this into a legal war."

"I'm not. I'm documenting what happened to my money."

"Our money."

"Exactly."

She had no response.

After the call, Miriam advised freezing further withdrawals by mutual agreement and proposing an accounting. Isla's counsel responded within hours.

By evening, the joint account was protected.

Two days later, another surprise arrived.

Damien had not used most of the foundation money for volunteer work.

He had spent it.

Luxury clothing. Travel. Restaurant bills. A motorcycle. Hotel charges. Cash withdrawals.

One transaction was from the jewelry store where Isla had bought the ring used for their legal marriage.

I stared at that line until I felt sick.

Money from the account intended for our wedding had helped pay for theirs.

When Isla learned, she came to Miriam's office without an appointment.

I was already there signing property documents when raised voices sounded in reception.

Then Isla walked in.

She looked furious in a way I had not seen since the night at The Vesper.

"He stole from me."

Miriam stood. "Ms. Farrow, your counsel should be present for this conversation."

"I don't care."

Isla looked at me.

"Nate, I didn't know. I swear. Damien showed me budgets, school letters, community plans. He said the foundation was handling supplies and travel grants."

I believed that she hadn't known how Damien spent all of it.

That didn't erase her decision to take it.

"You still used our money without asking me."

She went quiet.

"I know."

Her anger collapsed almost instantly.

"I know, Nate."

She sat down across from me.

"I kept thinking I was helping him become independent. Every time he needed something, I told myself it would be the last time."

"That's how you justified the marriage too."

Her eyes filled.

"Yes."

For once, she didn't argue.

Miriam quietly left the room to give us privacy, though the door remained open.

Isla pressed both palms over her face.

"I don't understand how I let it get this far."

I did.

"Because Damien learned what made you feel needed."

She looked up.

"You spent your childhood terrified people would leave you. Damien made himself helpless enough that you believed he never could."

Her face crumpled.

I continued carefully. "And I made the mistake of always being stable. I solved my own problems. I gave you space. I thought that made our relationship healthy. Maybe to you, it made me feel less urgent."

"No."

She shook her head.

"Nate, no. You were home. You were the one person I never thought I could lose."

"That's exactly the problem."

She froze.

"You treated me like the person who would always be there no matter what you did."

Tears rolled down her face.

"I was sure of you."

"You took me for granted."

She closed her eyes.

"Yes."

The admission was so quiet that I almost missed it.

For months, I had wanted her to admit that I wasn't imagining things. Now that she finally did, it brought no satisfaction.

"What happens with Damien?" I asked.

Her expression hardened.

"My lawyers are reviewing the foundation. If he committed fraud, he'll answer for it. The divorce will continue regardless."

"Don't do it for me."

"I'm not."

That surprised me.

She wiped her face.

"You were right. Changing what I do after losing you doesn't undo what I did before. I'm divorcing him because marrying him was wrong, whether you ever come back or not."

For the first time since this began, Isla said something that sounded like accountability instead of bargaining.

I nodded.

She looked at me hopefully, but I didn't offer more.

Growth wasn't a ticket back into my life.

Before leaving, Isla stopped at the door.

"The baby is doing well."

I looked up.

"The doctor says everything is normal."

Relief moved through me before I could stop it.

She saw.

A fragile smile appeared on her face.

"I can send you the next appointment details if you want."

"Yes."

Her smile trembled.

"Okay."

After she left, I looked again at the statements on Miriam's desk.

Once, I would have seen them only as proof of betrayal.

Now I saw something else too.

Proof that love without boundaries could become permission.

I had spent years blessing every compromise in the name of keeping us together.

I wasn't going to do that anymore.