Sitting in the sterile, air-conditioned office of the bank, I felt a growing unease as I waited for the manager to return with the documents I had requested. The envelope in my hand was crisp and official, bearing the bank’s logo and the date, May 15th. It felt heavier than it should, a physical representation of the doubts that had been swirling in my mind for weeks.
« Here we go, » the bank manager said as she returned, placing a stack of papers on the desk between us. Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she had delivered similar news countless times.
I scanned the pages quickly, my heart sinking as I noted the series of charges that made no sense. « This can’t be right, » I murmured, more to myself than to her.
She leaned forward slightly, maintaining a professional demeanor. « These are the transactions from the past six months, as you requested. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know. » Her eyes met mine for a brief moment before she looked away.
« Actually, yes, » I said, trying to keep my voice steady. « I need to know more about these charges. They don’t match up with what we budgeted for. » I pointed to a particularly large amount that stood out like a sore thumb.
She nodded, making a note on her pad. « I’ll have someone from our financial team look into it and get back to you as soon as possible. » Her words were reassuring, but the knot in my stomach only tightened.
As I left the bank, the envelope still clutched in my hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. What was happening with our finances, and why hadn’t my spouse mentioned any of this? I needed answers, and I knew the only way to get them was to confront the truth head-on.
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