After Jess forgets to leave lunch money for her son, Caleb, he casually mentions a secret stash of cash hidden in a cereal box. Shocked and confused, Jess begins to wonder why her husband, Marcus, would keep this from her, especially when their family has been struggling financially. Determined to uncover the truth, Jess sets out to find answers.
The day had already started off rough.
I’d been up before dawn, exhaustion weighing down every step. Running the morning shift as head baker was tough enough, but knowing I had a second job to tackle later made me feel like I was running on fumes.
As I worked through my morning checklist—shaping dough, thinking about bills, groceries, and laundry—it hit me like a brick: I forgot to leave lunch money for Caleb, my son.
I cursed under my breath and grabbed my phone, my hands still covered in flour. Before I could even type out an apology, a text from Caleb lit up the screen.
Mom, no lunch money?
Guilt surged through me. I immediately called him.
“Hey, Mom,” Caleb’s voice was soft—too soft for a twelve-year-old who should be more focused on video games than worrying about lunch money. “I texted you… there’s no money for lunch today.”
My heart sank. I already felt guilty for not having time to make him a homemade lunch, forcing him to settle for cafeteria food. Lately, I’d been forgetting things, struggling to keep up with everything.
“Caleb, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I completely forgot. I’ve been trying to get the laundry done before I head to work,” I said, leaning against the counter. The weight of everything felt unbearable.
But Caleb, always the calm one, reassured me. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll just use the money Dad keeps in the cereal box.”
I froze.
“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“The cereal box. The Cheerios. Dad keeps money in there sometimes,” he explained, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Sometimes inside the box, sometimes underneath it.”
My mind raced. Why would Marcus hide money in a cereal box? I wanted to press Caleb for more details, but I didn’t want to burden him with my growing anxiety. Not before he had to go through an entire school day.
“Right. Well, you go ahead and use that, and I’ll see you later. Love you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Love you too, Mom!” Caleb replied before hanging up.
The rest of my shift was a blur. I mechanically pulled loaves from the oven, but my thoughts were tangled. How long had Marcus been hiding money? And why? We’d been scraping by, counting every dollar. I bought Caleb new sneakers from a discount store because Marcus said we couldn’t afford anything better.
I was working two jobs—twelve-hour days—barely keeping our heads above water. How could he hide this from me?
By the time my shift ended, I was still fuming. I rushed home, not even bothering to take off my shoes, and went straight to the pantry. My heart pounded as I pulled the Cheerios box off the shelf, and sure enough, there it was—a thick envelope tucked beneath the box.
With trembling hands, I opened it. Inside was more cash than I had seen in months—hundreds, maybe more. It wasn’t just for Caleb’s lunch money. It was enough to fix the car, pay the rent, and catch up on some bills.
My mind whirled. While I’d been breaking my back working long hours, Marcus had been stashing away cash. Why hadn’t he told me?
I heard Marcus talking on the phone in his study and decided not to confront him—yet. Instead, I started dinner, throwing some hake and vegetables onto a tray, though my mind was far from the task at hand.
At dinner, the tension was thick. I could barely look at Marcus without my anger bubbling to the surface. But I didn’t say anything. Not yet. I needed to see how far he’d go with this charade.
“We need to get the car looked at,” I said, breaking the silence. “The transmission is getting worse.”
Marcus didn’t even glance up. He simply poured hot sauce on his fish and said, “We’ll have to wait. We don’t have the money for that right now.”
I stared at him, barely able to contain my frustration. He said it so casually, like the stash of cash in the cereal box didn’t exist, like he really believed what he was saying.
The next morning, after my bakery shift, I did something I’d never imagined doing. I called up a luxury spa and booked a full makeover—hair, nails, massage, the works. It was reckless, impulsive, and completely irresponsible, but I didn’t care. The money was there, and I was going to use it.
The day felt surreal. As the stylist worked on my hair, all I could think about was the envelope, the sleepless nights I’d spent worrying about bills, and Marcus pretending we were barely scraping by.
When I got home, I hardly recognized myself. My hair was styled in soft waves, my nails painted a deep red. I looked like someone who had it all together.
Marcus walked in and immediately stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened. “What did you do?” he asked.
“I found the money in the cereal box,” I replied coolly. “I decided I deserved a day to myself.”
The color drained from his face. “You weren’t supposed to spend that. It wasn’t meant for… this.”
I could feel the anger rising again. “Then what was it for, Marcus? Because I’ve been working myself to the bone, thinking we’re on the verge of drowning, while you’ve been hoarding cash. What was it for?”
He sank into a chair, rubbing his face. “My boss hinted there might be layoffs soon. I was trying to set aside money, just in case. I didn’t want to worry you over something that might not happen.”
“Worry? That’s all I do!” I snapped. “How could you think hiding this from me was the solution?”
He sighed. “I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just didn’t want to make things worse.”
His words stung. Marcus and I had always been honest with each other—at least, I thought we had. “We’re supposed to be a team, Marcus. We face things together.”
He looked up at me, his expression softening. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
The tension between us hung in the air, thick and heavy. I was hurt, deeply, but I could see that he hadn’t meant to betray me. He was scared, trying to protect us. But that didn’t make it right.
The next morning, I told him I wouldn’t raid any more cereal boxes without asking, and he promised there’d be no more secret stashes.
We might be struggling, but at least now, we were facing it together.
Or so I hoped.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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