“You said you’d be back by nine.”
“It’s nine-twenty.”
“Oh, forgive me,” she says with a wry laugh. Here we go again.
I close the door behind me slowly and watch as something in her face tightens as she studies me, looking at my wet clothes, trying to read my mind.
“You look strange.”
“I got caught in the rain and I’m tired.”
“You always are, lately.”
I set my keys down on the entrance table and drop my bag to the floor, and wait for her next installment. Then she gestures to the piece of paper on the table, I walk over and scan it to see the bank statement where the money Ethan paid was deposited.
“How long do you think this will last?” she asks.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“If we’re smart, and not reckless with the spending, and invest it like I’ve suggested, it could last years.”
She pushes back her chair, the sound screams against the floor as she stands and begins to pace.
“We need to be smarter.”
“With what?”
“Decisions! We need to move, and there is stuff we need to buy and replace,” she begins, but I stop her.
“We need to be sensible and plan ahead. Not spending it on designer clothes and shoes, Sarah. Spending it all on a home is reckless, we can enjoy the money, but we don’t need to be greedy. We don’t need a big place. ”
“You just don’t want to move up. You’d be happy staying in this hellhole,” she interrupts.
I rub my face, exhausted by these constant fights about money.
“Listen, I’m grateful we just have a roof over our head, but spending it all to impress others is dumb. We will still end up with no money. If we get a modest place, I get my workshop and you continue working too until I have a steady stream of money, then we can reconsider.”
“You’re not having that fucking workshop, Leo.”
I grind my teeth, this is a living nightmare.
“We agreed, Sarah, and since I last checked, we are supposed to decide together, not dictate what to spend the money on.”
“You just want to keep me down, scared I will outgrow you.”
“Do you hear yourself? Do you know how arrogant you sound right now?”
“Yeah, well I think I’ve risked enough to be able to have some control over this. I’m the injured party here,” she yells and I see red.
“Injured party? You were fine with it! In fact, you were the fucking one encouraging italong, pimping me out like it was nothing, so don’t play the damn victim now, just because you want your own way, Sarah.”
“I was being smart. If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t have the fucking money.”
“Correction — if it wasn’t for Ethan being obsessed with ME you would having no fucking money.”
“Yeah, he wanted you,” she says, snarling with bitterness.
