Recently, I noticed our 5-year-old daughter struggling with something in the next room. “Mommy, help!” she asked. I found her fiddling with my husband’s desk drawer.
It was locked. We opened it and, to my shock, I saw a huge stack of cash—wrapped in rubber bands, tucked into neat piles, nearly filling the drawer. It wasn’t a few bills.
It looked like thousands. I felt a cold knot form in my stomach. My husband, Eric, and I had always lived modestly.
We’d had countless conversations about budgeting, rent, and groceries. Just a week ago, we decided not to take a vacation this year because we “couldn’t afford it.” So where had all this come from? Our daughter, Lily, reached in for a pen she said she was looking for.
I quickly shut the drawer. My mind was spinning. That night, when Eric came home, I tried to act normal.
I cooked dinner, played with Lily, and smiled like I always did. But inside, I was shaking. After Lily went to bed, I confronted him.
“Eric… why is there a drawer full of cash in your desk?”
He froze. Didn’t even blink. I watched the blood drain from his face.
“It’s… it’s not what you think,” he said. Those words never mean anything good. “I’m listening,” I said, crossing my arms.
Eric sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. After a long silence, he looked up and said, “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d be upset. But I’ve been driving for a rideshare service after work.
Late at night. Weekends too.”
My eyes narrowed. “Eric.
That much cash doesn’t come from Uber tips.”
He hesitated again. Then he said something I didn’t expect. “I’ve been working at the casino.
Dealing cards.”
I blinked. “Since when?”
“Since March,” he said. “It started as just a weekend thing.
But I got good at it. Made fast money. It was easy.
And I started taking more shifts. I didn’t want to tell you because I know how you feel about gambling and that world.”
He wasn’t wrong. I grew up with a dad who lost his job and family over his gambling problem.
I hated everything to do with it. “You lied,” I said. My voice broke.
“I didn’t want you to worry. I figured I’d save up some money, help us get ahead, and tell you once it was done.”
“But you weren’t going to stop, were you?” I asked. Eric didn’t answer.
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