SHE BROUGHT HIS MISTRESS INTO THEIR BED

I called Sofia from the hallway.

She answered before the second ring.

“Are you home?”

“Yes.”

“Did Mateo pick you up?”

“No. I took a cab.”

Sofia heard something in my voice.

“Elena, what's wrong?”

“There's a woman in my bedroom.”

She was quiet for half a second.

“I'm coming.”

“I need you to stay on the phone.”

“I'm here.”

I walked downstairs while she spoke to me. She asked whether anyone had threatened me. I said no. She told me to take my handbag and go onto the porch while she drove over.

I wanted to say that I didn't need instructions. Instead, I did exactly as she asked. My thoughts were slipping apart, and her voice gave me one thing to follow.

Mateo came down as I reached the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside.”

“We need to talk.”

“We will. Sofia's coming.”

His face fell.

“Did you have to bring her into it?”

I looked at him.

“You brought someone into our bed.”

He stepped back.

The air on the porch was cool. I sat on the front step with Mom's photograph beside me. Through the window, I could hear movement upstairs. Chloe was gathering clothes.

Sofia arrived twelve minutes later. She was my younger sister by four years, but she'd always been the one who knew what to do when our family fell into chaos.

She climbed out of her car and stopped when she saw my face.

“Come here.”

I stood. She hugged me, and I finally cried.

I had held myself together in the bedroom because Mateo and Chloe were watching. I didn't need to hold myself together for Sofia.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” I asked.

“As long as you want.”

I wiped my face.

“I need my work laptop. It's in the study.”

“I'll go in with you.”

Mateo was waiting in the entryway. He told Sofia this was a private matter.

“She called me,” Sofia replied. “I'm here for her.”

We went to the study. My laptop sat on the desk, where I'd left it before my trip. So did a pile of unopened mail addressed to both of us. I slid the laptop into my bag.

Then I noticed an envelope from our bank beneath a restaurant supplier's bill.

Mateo usually handled mail about his business. Our household account was different. I picked up the bank envelope.

Mateo appeared at the study door.

“I was going to show you that.”

“When?”

“When you got back.”

I opened it. The letter said a scheduled transfer from our joint account had not gone through because the balance was too low.

The amount was larger than our monthly mortgage payment.

“Where did the money go?” I asked.

“I paid a supplier. The restaurant needed it.”

“You told me you wouldn't use that account for the restaurant.”

“I was going to replace it after the weekend.”

“From what?”

He looked past me at Sofia.

“Elena and I can talk about money alone.”

I had discussed money with him alone for months. Every conversation ended with him promising a payment was coming and me finding another way to cover the gap.

“Sofia can stay,” I said.

He went quiet.

Upstairs, Chloe's footsteps crossed the bedroom. A suitcase rolled over the landing. When she came down, she avoided my eyes.

“I took my clothes,” she said. “The rest can wait.”

She set the brass key on the table beside the door.

“I didn't know you were still trying to fix your marriage.”

Mateo turned toward her.

“Chloe, don't.”

“You told me she knew about us.”

My stomach tightened.

He had told her I knew?

Chloe looked at me.

“I wouldn't have come here if I'd known you were arriving today.”

I wanted to believe her. I couldn't deal with her guilt as well as my own hurt.

“Please leave,” I said.

She did.

Mateo stayed in the entryway, staring at the key.

“I was going to tell you this week,” he said.

I picked it up.

“After she finished moving in?”

“Elena, we've both been miserable.”

“I know you were worried about the restaurant. I didn't know you had another life in our bedroom.”

His eyes filled. A day earlier, I would have reached for him. I kept my hands around the key.

Sofia carried my bag to her car. I packed clothes for a few nights, my medication, and the photograph. Mateo followed us upstairs but stayed in the doorway while we worked.

The sheets were still tangled. I couldn't look at them.

In the closet, one of Chloe's dresses hung among my jackets. Sofia took it off the rail and put it on the bed without a word.

I zipped my suitcase.

“Are you coming back?” Mateo asked.

“I don't know when.”

“You can't make me leave the house.”

“I didn't ask you to leave tonight.”

He had managed to hear a threat I hadn't made. I understood then how much he knew he had put at risk.

At Sofia's apartment, she made tea I didn't drink. I sat at her kitchen table and opened the banking app on my phone.

Three transfers had gone out of the joint account while I was away.

The last one was dated that morning.

I read the recipient's name twice.