I found a massive transfer on my boyfriend's phone.

$98,000. Labeled "dowry."

The recipient wasn't me, the woman who'd been with him for eight years.

The dowry we'd scrimped and saved for over four years.

He'd sent it to someone else.

And I had no idea.

In the closet sat the birthday surprise I'd gotten him. A brand-new phone, the latest model.

——

Rain hammered against the window, each drop striking the glass like a fist against my chest.

I held Marvin Whitney's phone in my hands, my whole body trembling.

Eight years together, and I'd never once gone through his phone. If he hadn't left it at home, I never would have touched it.

I never expected that one look would turn me into the kind of woman who couldn't stop scrolling.

I went through every bank account linked to his phone.

It confirmed everything. The dowry he'd transferred included $38,000 of our shared savings.

Marvin and I had been together since freshman year of college. Eight years. We'd planned to get married right after graduation.

But my parents wouldn't have it. They looked down on his rural background. On top of the $38,800 dowry, they wanted him to buy a place in the city.

The numbers scared Marvin off.

"My parents worked themselves to the bone putting me through school," he said. "There's no reason they should have to drain their savings for a wedding too."

"These four years of ours were worth too much and not enough at the same time."

Marvin broke up with me.

In the end, I was the one who couldn't let go.

I begged him through tears. "Please don't do this. We can save up together."

After that, I moved to the city with him behind my parents' backs.

For four years, I pinched every penny, saving alongside him for the down payment and the dowry.

And now he'd taken that money and given it to another woman as her dowry.

The down payment on our apartment had been made at the end of last year. We'd split three months of mortgage payments together.

After the down payment, we'd only had $38,000 left. Where did Marvin get $98,000?

The recipient's name contained a character I didn't recognize from anyone in my life.

Who was she?

Questions kept surfacing, one after another.

I felt like I was standing in a thick fog, unable to see what was right in front of me.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.

I noticed the red notification dots on his messaging app and tapped in.

Other than some work messages, it was clean. Not a single suspicious contact.

I typed into the search bar: love you, baby, sweetheart. Every term of endearment I could think of.

The only results that came up were me.

The familiar chat history made my eyes sting.

Eight years. I'd been with Marvin for eight years.

For eight of those years, I'd given him everything.

I'd defied my parents and chosen to save up with him so he could marry me.

And now it all felt like a joke.

I opened app after app. Nothing.

Then I opened his food delivery account, and buried among rows of takeout orders was a second address.

The name on the deliveries had that same unfamiliar character.

He'd sent her flowers on almost every holiday. Bouquets at fifteen, twenty, thirty dollars. The most expensive one, nearly sixty.

He ordered her milk tea all the time. Her usual was matcha.

When she was sick, he'd rush-deliver medicine to her door. He'd buy her little snacks to cheer her up.

And me?

Nothing.

I looked at the dried flowers on the nightstand.

That was the only bouquet he'd given me since graduation. $1.99, from a self-serve flower stand on the sidewalk.

"Rosie, once I have money someday..."

"Whatever you want, I'll buy it for you."

That's what he told me once.

Yet a two-hundred-dollar bouquet of flowers? He turned right around and bought one for someone else.

The phone in my hand suddenly buzzed. An unfamiliar number flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

My heart lurched as I answered.

"Hi, I'm the owner of this phone..."

It was Marvin.

He thought he'd lost it.

"It's me," I said. "Your phone's not lost. You left it at home."

A beat of silence on the other end, then a laugh, heavy with relief.

"Oh, it's at home!"

"I thought someone swiped it on the subway!"

"I'm coming right back to get it."

After he hung up, I kept scrolling through his phone.

His Amazon cart was full of women's skincare and makeup, along with a handful of pricey collectible boxes. His purchase history was a parade of necklaces, bracelets, handbags, lipstick...

The recipient for every single one was Lucy.

The most recent order was the newest model phone. I'd bought him the white one. He'd bought the orange one for her.

Every penny I'd scrimped and saved over the past four years, Marvin had found a place to spend.

In that moment, my heart felt smothered, like someone had pulled a plastic bag over it. Even my breathing trembled.

Click. The front door opened behind me.

Marvin stood in the doorway, panting. Without a word, he walked in and gulped down a huge mouthful of water.

"Rosie, you've got the late shift this afternoon?"

It was the weekend. I didn't have to work. But to earn extra money, I'd picked up a weekend gig at the mall near our apartment.

Marvin, on the other hand, chose to work overtime at his office because the company paid time-and-a-half.

"Yeah. Three o'clock."

I kept my voice flat, low, willing him to catch the edge in it.

He didn't. He just grinned. "My hardworking wife, saving up for our wedding with me."

"Your husband's gonna head right back and grind it out. Hit those targets, score a big bonus, and move that progress bar along."

I stood there, watching him in silence.

"We've actually saved up most of what we need," I said. "How about next month you come back with me to meet my parents?"

Marvin slipped his phone into his pocket. His brow creased slightly.

"I mean, sure, the bride price is pretty much covered, and we bought the place. But we still don't have the money for renovations. Plus, the wedding itself is going to cost a lot."

"How about we wait one more year?"

Wait. Again.

He'd said these things before. I'd never thought much of it, but now every word sounded like a stalling tactic.

When I didn't respond, Marvin walked over and tugged gently at my hand.

"Just a little longer."

"Rosie, I don't want your parents looking down on me."

"I want to marry you properly. Give you the wedding you deserve."

That one offhand remark my parents had made years ago had become the biggest obstacle to our marriage.

And the most convenient excuse Marvin ever had.

What he didn't know was that my parents couldn't have cared less about the money.

Our family wasn't short on cash.

This past holiday season, my parents had already relented. I just hadn't gotten around to telling him.

They wouldn't keep a single dollar of the bride price. And the trousseau they'd give us would be worth several times what we'd saved over the years.

"Okay," I said.

My heart sank, bit by bit, into stillness.

The bitterness churning inside my chest rose like a tide threatening to spill over.

I stood up and walked toward the $1.99 bouquet of dried flowers.

They weren't worth anything. But back then, the love behind them was.

Now the love wasn't worth anything either.

With a soft thud, I tossed the dried flowers into the trash.

Back in the room, I opened the cabinet.

I took the new phone out of its box and slipped in my own SIM card.

The first thing I did after powering it on was quit my weekend side job.

The second thing was call my brother.

"Quinn Sullivan, can you send me the contact info for that lawyer friend of yours?"

My money. I wasn't going to let anyone else walk away with a single cent of it.

"What's going on?"

Maybe something in my voice gave me away, because my brother picked up on it immediately.

"It's nothing. I'll tell you once I've sorted it out."

He didn't push. A second later, a business card popped up on my screen.

The lawyer called me back almost right away.

"So let me get this straight. You're not married, but every dollar you saved, you transferred to him?"

"And the down payment on the house includes your money?"

He must not have come across someone this lovesick and naive very often.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"If you have the transaction records, this money shouldn't be too hard to recover."

"But did you include any notes with the transfers? Keywords like 'house purchase' or 'bride price,' anything like that?"

"Yes."

I was stupid.

But at least not that stupid.

Every time I transferred money to Marvin, I'd made sure to note what it was for and which installment it was.

Partly to keep my own records straight, and partly so I'd always know exactly how much I'd sent him in total.

"That makes things a lot easier. There's a very good chance you can get all of it back."

Hearing that loosened the knot in my chest a little.

"But the house isn't in my name. Can I still get my money back?"

Silence again on the other end.

After a long moment, he let out a sigh. "Girl, they don't make them as trusting as you anymore..."

I gave a bitter laugh and mumbled something back.

Yeah. I really was that naive.

"It's fine. The transaction records are what matter."

"Pull up all your transfer history and send it to me. And screenshots of your conversations with him too."

"Okay."

After I hung up, I opened my account and pulled everything.

I'd started transferring money to Marvin in August 2022.

First came the house fund. Fifty installments.

The house was in Marvin's hometown. A hundred and thirty-three hundred square feet, with a down payment of $130,000.

After that came the bride price. Fifteen installments.

Then there were the scattered transfers for things like renovations on his family's old house, appliances, plus three mortgage payments. Another $10,000 altogether.

Over the years, I'd sent Marvin a total of $100,000.

I dug up all the chat logs too and forwarded everything to Nathan Caldwell.

But something still didn't add up. The house had cost $130,000 as a down payment.

Where had Marvin gotten the other $98,000?

That evening, Marvin came home from work early.

He opened the door, saw me, and blinked. "Aren't you supposed to be on the late shift? Why are you home?"

I kept folding the clothes in my hands. "Oh, I quit."

"What happened? Was work getting to you?"

"It's nothing. It was just a side job. No big deal."

"We're not under that much pressure anymore anyway. No need to run yourself into the ground."

Marvin spoke in the same easy tone he always used, not a flicker of anything off in his eyes.

He smiled, ruffled my hair, and headed for the kitchen.

I sat on the couch and turned to watch his back as he busied himself at the stove.

Over the years, Marvin had treated me well enough. He cooked, he did the laundry, never let me lift a finger for any of it.

The only things he couldn't give me were a marriage and money.

"Marvin, I want to get married."

His hand on the spatula froze, just for a second.

He turned to look at me. "We will!"

"Next year. We'll do it next year!"

I didn't say anything else. I ate that meal with my mind somewhere far away.