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“The horror,” I deadpan.
“It was a waste of paper. And time. Trees died because of it.”
“Not to downplay the trauma, but it seems like you survived,” I point out.
“All I’m saying is, if I keep doing that, it’ll add up.”
“I’ll print out something so you can practice ticking the box that says married.”
He keeps gnawing at his lip. “There’s also the money.”
“The money?” I say blankly.
“The money.” He sounds impatient. “The tuition. The loan you gave me. Fine, we’ll table the divorce, but we still need to sign some sort of papers about the loan. You’ve put it off for long enough. And if you now want to be in a… a…” He sure takes his sweet-ass time to say, “A whatever.”
His expression goes all sour for a moment.
Very flattering.
“If you want to continue this thing,” he says. “We—you—need a proper, signed contract, so whatever happens after”—he motions between the two of us—“you won’t end up screwed over and out of a shitload of cash.”
I groan. “We’re really back to that again?”
His jaw twitches, and his voice comes out low and annoyed. “Yeah, I get it. You have enough money that it doesn’t matter to you. But it matters to me. I need to pay it back.”
“No, you don’t need to pay it back,” I say.
His whole body stiffens.
“Yes, I do.”
“You really don’t,” I say.
“It’s a matter of principle!” he snaps.
I take a deep, calming breath.
“Can we just drop it?” I ask.
“I will not fucking drop it. Will you, just for once, show some common sense? I’m not even asking you to do anything. Just sign the fucking paper to make sure you get your money back.”
“It’s not my money,” I snap.
He waves me off with a huff of frustration. “Family money. Inheritance. Whatever you want to call it. My point stands.”
Fuck’s sake.
“It’s. Not. My. Money,” I grit out through my teeth. “It’s yours. It was always yours, okay?”
We’re in the middle of the sidewalk, so it’s not quiet.
But the silence is deafening.
“Where did you get the money?” Lake asks. It’s the deceptive casualness that makes the question so ominous.
I could try to deflect. I could try to change tack. I could do any number of things.
Or I could be honest.
