I switched to speaker and tossed the phone on the table. "She wants to audit my annual spending. Said if I don't send it, I must be hiding something. Tell me—all these years, the rice, the flour, the cooking oil in that house—when was any of it not paid for by me?"
Alex sighed. "Come on. I thought it was something serious."
"This isn't serious?"
"You know how Mom is. Menopause might be over, but she still overthinks everything when she's bored. She saw too many of those clickbait videos online and got paranoid you're blowing money. She means well—she's looking out for our family."
Listen to that.
This is what men do.
Masters of smoothing things over.
I laughed coldly. "Looking out for us? Looking out for us means putting me on trial in front of every relative? Alex, I'm telling you right now—I'm not sending that bill. If you think your mom's right, then you can start paying the household expenses."
The typing stopped. "Maya, you're being ridiculous. Mom's old. Her mind doesn't turn corners as fast anymore. You're younger, you're educated—why stoop to arguing with an elderly woman?"