Repairs.
Designer gifts.
Restaurant bills.
The assumption was always the same.
I had more.
Therefore they deserved access.
“Tiffany,” I said quietly, “I never agreed to pay for your car.”
“But somebody has to.”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“You.”
She started crying.
Beatrice immediately put an arm around her.
“Look what you’re doing.”
That sentence almost worked too.
Look what you’re doing.
Not what we did.
Not what was taken.
Not who lied.
What you’re doing by refusing to continue it.
Adrian stood.
“I swear I didn’t know about B.H.
