“The freeloading ends today,” he said again, as if the first time had tasted so good he wanted another bite.
I turned my head slowly from the passenger window. “Excuse me?”
Jason laughed under his breath, not because anything was funny, but because he had recently developed the habit of laughing before saying things he knew were cruel. It gave him a kind of preloaded defense. If I reacted, he could say I was too sensitive. If I stayed quiet, he could claim he was joking. If I cried, he could tell me I was proving his point.
“You heard me, Nora,” he said. “From now on, we’re doing separate bank accounts.”
I stared at him.
“No more shared money,” he continued. “No more automatic access. No more me funding everything while you coast.”
The freeway lights slid over his face. Bright. Dark. Bright. Dark.
We had been married six years.