I found out my ex-husband had taken half of our son’s college fund the same way you find out most modern betrayals—through a casual comment that wasn’t meant to sound like a confession.
He said it like it was nothing. Like it was his right.
“We’re using some of the college money for Lily,” he told me over the phone, voice bright with that smug certainty he always used when he thought he was being “reasonable.” “Boston University isn’t cheap.”
I didn’t even process the sentence at first. My brain snagged on one word.
“Some?” I repeated.
He sighed, like I was slow. “Half. It’s fine. Ethan will still have plenty.”
My hands went cold around my coffee mug. “You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can,” he snapped. “I earned that money, not you.”
There it was. That old familiar line. The one that always tried to turn everything into ownership. Power. Control.
