It was the house where I’d raised Lily and the house my grandmother had left me when she passed away. My husband didn’t contribute to the mortgage because there was no mortgage. He didn’t pay property taxes because I handled those. He paid for groceries sometimes and covered the cable bill and acted like that made us equal partners in the household.
I didn’t mind because I loved him and I thought we were building a life together. The problem started small. He’d complain that Lily was too loud when she had friends over. He’d say she took too long in the bathroom in the mornings. He’d mentioned that teenagers ate too much food and that the grocery bill had gone up since he moved in.
I reminded him that Lily had lived here her whole life and that she wasn’t going anywhere. He’d nod and say he understood and then bring it up again a week later. When Lily turned 15, he started pushing harder. He said she was old enough to get a job and pay for her own things. I said she was a sophomore in high school and her job was to focus on her grades.