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I blinked again. “No.”
“Then you understand that not eating is no longer an option for you.”
“I alwayswantedto eat,” I said defensively.
He studied me.
I stepped back from him, giving myself space to breathe.
He watched me as I paced the kitchen a couple of times, my arms wrapping around my abdomen.
“Look, I just…” I bit my lip. “It’s not eating that I have a problem with, okay? It’s spending money. Like, the soup?” I gestured toward the couch, where we’d eaten said soup. “With the money you probably spent on it—don’ttell me the total—I could’ve paid my power bill for a month. I could’ve eaten real spaghetti for at least a week, too. Maybe longer. In the last year, there wasn’t money for that. Foranything.”
I continued pacing. “Our damnwatergot shut off for a week, at one point. Do you know what it’s like, living without water? Not being able to flush the toilet? Or shower? In your own home? I know there are bigger problems, out there in the world. Fuck, I know I’m a whiner. But money, for me… I just have a stress reaction to spending it. I always feel like there’s something more important I should be using it for, like if I spend the money, I’m going to end up screwing us out of something we need. And I know that makes me sound stupid, and ridiculous, and—”
“It doesn’t.” Axel’s voice was firm.
His hands caught my hips as I walked by, and he dragged my reluctant ass back to him until our pelvises met. My head tipped back, so I was looking him in the eyes. “It doesn’t?”
“No, it doesn’t.” He was so damn calm. “It’s been a long, difficult year for you since Iris got sick. Not only have you been feeding her with your own blood, you’ve been paying for both of your living costs without any help—and with a shitty job that underpaid you. One you had no way out of. None of that was your fault.”
My throat swelled.
My eyes started to get slightly watery.
I think I needed to hear that—that it wasn’t my fault.
I’d known it wasn’t, of course.
But still, hearing him say that…
Shit.
I needed it.
“Can I give you a solution to this problem, or would you prefer to figure it out yourself?” he asked me calmly.
I blinked.
My independence said that I could figure it out, but…
Screw independence.
If he had an instant solution, I was sure as hell going to take it.
“Solution, please.”
“I’ll add you to my bank account. Money isn’t a problem for me. I make it, and don’t really spend it. Or haven’t for the last five years, at least.”
I blinked again.
“I’ll make sure you have cards for the accounts we share, and a log-in, so you can get online and see that we’re fine at any given moment. At the same time we do that, we’ll open up an account just for you. I won’t have any access to it, not even to look and see what’s inside it. We’ll deposit the money I had stashed in the envelope, and you can set it up so you get paid there. Or you can take part of your paycheck and deposit it in your own account; whatever you’re the most comfortable with. If you start to feel stressed, you can log in and see that we’re fine on money.”
Oh.
Well, that did sound like a good solution.
“Okay.” I jerked my head in a nod. “That sounds like it would help. But I think you should have your own account separate from mine, too, until I’m more used to this.” I gestured between us, second guessing myself even as the words left my mouth. “And so that I don’t get worried or irritated with you if you buy cake or something.”
