Page 3

She stepped into the kitchen, silk robe tied loosely, her blond hair curled.

“What’s what?” she asked, her tone fake. Knowing damn well she knew what I was talking about.

I turned the receipt so she could see it, my hand shaking from the pressure building in my chest. “Four grand. Four thousand damn dollars. On a handbag and shoes?”

She rolled her eyes dismissively. "It’s Chanel, Sam. It’s costly but not expensive. Really, compose yourself."

"Compose myself?" I dragged a hand down my face, pacing across the kitchen floor. "We just had this conversation. You promised you were done blowing money on dumb shit."

She waved me off. "It’s not that deep. I put it on my card."

"Our card," I corrected. "Let’s not play dumb. You don’t have your own money, Janet. That card is connected to my bank account."

In my mind, what was mine was hers, but she needed to control her spending habits before I changed my mind.

She pouted slightly, stepping closer, fingertips grazing my chest as though her touch would distract me. "You’re acting as though we’re destitute."

I caught her wrist. "We’re not broke because I don’t let us get there. But that doesn’t mean you get to treat my grind like it’s unlimited."

She withdrew her hand, clicking her tongue in annoyance, then abruptly dropped to her knees. She placed her hand on my thighs and batted her eyelashes up at me.

"Allow me to rectify the situation," she purred.

I stepped back so fast you would’ve thought she burned me. I didn’t want another one of her lazy blow jobs.

"Nah. I’m good."

She blinked up at me. "Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious."

She stood up, robe sliding just enough to put her tits on display. Too bad I wasn’t looking. I don’t know what it was about her recently. I just wasn’t feeling her. It probably had a lot to do with her attitude. She felt so entitled.

"You need to calm down. You act as if I bought a car."

I laughed, but with no humor. "It’s not about the money, Janet. It’s about respect. And you keep proving you don’t have any for me."

She crossed her arms, chin tipped up like she was tired of me. "Then why are you still here?"

Her words didn’t even hurt like they should have.

"Good question."

I grabbed my keys and walked out.

I pulled out of the driveway. I should’ve never gotten married to her. I wanted a wife and kids. I’d just been too quick to choose the wrong woman, and it was dawning on me too late.

I needed a drink. Nothing heavy—just enough to take the edge off. I headed in the direction of my now empty Airbnb. I could stop and restock the liquor cabinet on the way.

“Shit.”

I realized about thirty minutes down the highway that I’d left my wallet sitting on the counter.

I hit a U-turn, heading back. Annoyed. Exhausted. Ready to snatch it and leave again before Janet even knew I came back.

I pulled up to the house, parking behind a neighbor’s car on the street instead of pulling into the driveway so Janet didn’t realize I was back.

I was about to open the car door when I saw…