than most people.”
“I know.”
“And you signed one without telling your wife?”
His voice dropped.
“I thought it would be temporary.”
There it was.
Not some theatrical betrayal.
No secret second family.
No criminal conspiracy.
Something painfully ordinary.
A husband trying to rescue his mother from a financial mistake and hiding it because he knew his wife would object.
I looked back at the document.
“Does this touch our house?”
“No.”
“Our joint accounts?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because the guarantee is mine.”
“We’re married.”
“I protected
