Chapter 2 - The Silent Retaliation
I didn't order takeout that night. I didn't go to the grocery store to restock the fridge for him. I drove to a quiet diner three miles away, sat in a booth by myself, and ate a hot plate of turkey and mashed potatoes in total silence.
While I ate, I made moves.
First, I opened my banking app, navigated to the card management tab, and permanently canceled the credit card Zachary had used. When prompted for a reason, I tapped Stolen / Unauthorized Use.
Second, I logged into our internet service provider account. I changed the Wi-Fi network name and generated a new 24-character random password. Then I disconnected every device in the apartment except my personal laptop and phone.
Third, I logged into my mobile carrier portal. I transferred Zachary's phone line off my family plan and set it to expire at midnight unless a separate payment method was provided.
Lastly, I opened my calendar. Payday was indeed today, but for the first time in six months, I didn't transfer money into our joint house account. I transferred every single cent of my paycheck into a brand-new, private checking account at a completely different bank—one Zachary had no knowledge of or access to.
When I got home around 9:30 PM, the apartment was plunged into semi-darkness, save for the bright light streaming from the spare room.
As soon as my key turned in the lock, Zachary came charging out into the hallway, his face red and contorted with frustration.
"Jenna! What the hell is going on with the Wi-Fi?" he demanded, waving his phone in the air. "I got kicked out of my online tournament in the middle of a match! And my phone says 'No Service'!"
I set my coat on the hanger, keeping my expression entirely neutral. "I updated our utilities and digital accounts tonight."
"What does that mean?" he snapped. "Fix the Wi-Fi! I need the password!"
"The Wi-Fi costs ninety dollars a month, Zachary," I said evenly, looking him dead in the eyes. "Since you feel comfortable spending five hundred dollars of my money on bourbon and shrimp for your mother, I figured you have plenty of cash to pay for your own internet. If you want access, give me forty-five dollars for your half."
Zachary stared at me as if I had suddenly started speaking in ancient Greek. "Are you serious? You're cutting off the internet over some groceries?"
"It wasn't 'some groceries,' Zachary. It was $486.12 at a luxury market, plus every single item in our kitchen that I paid for," I said, stepping past him toward the master bedroom. "And as for your phone line, it expires tonight. If you want cell service tomorrow, you'll need to enter your own credit card."
"I don't have a credit card, Jenna! You know I'm between jobs!" he yelled, following me to the bedroom doorway. "How am I supposed to look for work without internet or a phone?"
"The same way you've been looking for work for the past six months," I said, turning to face him. "On your feet."
"This is unhinged!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "You're punishing me for helping my mother! She needed food for her gathering!"
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"Then your mother can pay your cell phone bill," I replied softly.
I stepped into the bedroom and locked the door behind me. Within thirty seconds, he was pounding on the wood, shouting about how selfish, bitter, and unsupportive I was. I put in my noise-canceling earbuds, laid down on the bed, and slept better than I had in months.
