“You always put in two or three grand. So… you’re not saving anything this month?” His voice turned cold. “If you don’t contribute, how am I supposed to save for a house and our wedding on my own?”
Wedding. The word nearly shattered my composure.
I wanted to drag him straight to the County Clerk’s Office and pull his records myself.
Instead, I shot him a cold look, grabbed my bag, and headed to the bedroom. “So without me, you’ll never buy a house or get married? Deke, stop guilt-tripping me. I told you, I don’t have money this month.”
His face paled for a split second before he recovered. Then he followed me in. “Zoey, I’ve been saving for two years—for us. Why are you acting like marriage is only my responsibility? Don’t you have a part in this too?”
His voice wavered. Defensive.
I scoffed, dropping into my desk chair. “You can still get married without me, can’t you?”
I knew confronting him outright was pointless. He’d deny everything, maybe even flip it on me—call me paranoid, insecure.
No, I needed him to confess on his own.
***
When I didn’t respond, Deke grabbed my arm.
“You make at least two grand a month. Even after sending your mom six hundred, you should still have money left.”
