“This is business.

You’re my wife, not my CFO.”

I had assumed, then, that he was under some ordinary financial pressure, the kind men in his position sometimes fall into.

I had felt, God help me, sorry for him.

I had brought him coffee.

What I understood now, sitting in Arthur Vance’s office with the ledger open in front of me, was that my husband had not been looking for his mother’s money because he needed a loan.