The night my husband got his promotion, he didn’t smile, didn’t hug me—he just looked me ᴅᴇᴀᴅ in the eye and said, “The freeloading ends today.” Then, as if he were giving a cold business update, he announced that from now on we’d have separate bank accounts.

Brianna leaned back and stared straight at me. “About time he stopped letting you coast off him.”

The room felt smaller, but my pulse stayed calm. “Excuse me?” I asked.

“He told us you have been draining him while you find yourself,” she continued with a laugh. “At some point a grown woman should pay her own way.”

Colton did not correct her. He simply watched me as if waiting for my reaction.

“You are right,” I said slowly, pushing my chair back. “Let me grab something.”

I walked down the hallway to the closet and reached for the thick navy binder I had assembled over the years. It felt heavier than paper as I carried it back and placed it in the center of the table.

“What is that?” Brianna asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Our history,” I replied, opening it to the first tab.

Colton rubbed his forehead. “Not tonight, Megan.”

“I think tonight is perfect,” I answered.

I slid a page toward Brianna. “That is a forty two thousand dollar transfer from my severance to wipe out Colton’s student loans five years ago.”

She glanced at it and shrugged. “You helped him once.”

“Turn the page,” I said.