He shrugged like it was nothing. “I checked your location. We’re married. We share things. It’s not illegal.” Then his tone sharpened. “So who’s coming? Derek? Your mom? Don’t embarrass me, Claire.”
Embarrass him. I almost laughed.
I crossed my arms, buying time. “Why does it matter? You said this was my problem.”
Ryan’s mouth twisted. “Because if you’re broke, it affects me too. We have an image. People talk.” He inhaled, then softened his voice as if he were being generous. “Look, I can lend you a couple hundred. But you need to stop being reckless—and you need to tell me what’s really going on.”
There it was. Help wrapped in criticism. A leash disguised as kindness.
My phone buzzed.
I’m here, Ethan texted.
A small sedan pulled into the row behind my car. Ethan stepped out—no performance, no polish—just jeans, a hoodie, and urgency written all over his face. He glanced at Ryan, then positioned himself subtly near my driver’s door, protective without being dramatic.
“You okay?” he asked, looking only at me.
Ryan blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Who the hell are you?”
Ethan extended a hand calmly. “Ethan Brooks. Claire’s cousin.”
Ryan ignored it. “Why are you here? This is between me and my wife.”
Ethan’s voice stayed level, but colder. “She asked the family for help. I showed up.”
Ryan snorted. “So she ran to you for money? Cute.” He turned to me, face flushing. “You’re really dragging him into this? After I said I could handle it?”
I looked at him. “You didn’t offer to handle anything. You blamed me.”
Ryan stepped closer, anger building. “You always make me the villain. You always—”
“Back up,” Ethan said, firm now.
Ryan’s eyes flashed. “Or what?”
My heart was pounding as I took a breath and said the words that changed everything.
“I didn’t text you for money, Ryan. I texted you for honesty.” I pulled the lottery ticket from my wallet—still folded, still secret—and held it between us. “And I just got it.”
Ryan froze. Ethan’s eyebrows shot up.
Ryan’s voice cracked. “That’s—Claire… is that real?”
I met his stunned stare and said quietly, “Now tell me who you really are—before I decide what you deserve.”
His mouth opened, then closed. His eyes clung to the ticket like money had its own gravity. Then his expression melted into something syrupy—too sweet to be real.
“Baby,” he said gently, hands raised as he stepped forward, “why would you hide something like that from me? I’m your husband.”
Ethan didn’t move, but his presence was solid. “She asked for help,” he said. “You told her to figure it out.”
Ryan ignored him, locking onto me. “I was stressed, Claire. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.” He swallowed, then tried again, voice trembling with practiced sincerity. “We’ve been through a lot. This could fix everything.”
I thought of my mom’s sigh. Derek’s laugh. Megan’s emoji. Ryan tracking my location like I belonged to him. And then Ethan’s message echoed in my mind: Tell me where you are. I’m coming.
I folded the ticket carefully and slid it back into my wallet.
“You didn’t even ask if I was okay,” I said. “Not once.”
Ryan’s eyes flickered, panic creeping in. “I came looking for you. That proves I care.”
“No,” I replied evenly. “It proves you needed control.” My voice surprised me—steady, finished. “You didn’t come to help. You came to manage me.”
He scoffed, trying to regain ground. “So what—now your cousin runs your life?”
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