Chapter 2
"So, how are we getting to the hospital?" Karina asked, changing the subject.
"I'll drive you," I said.
"No, I'll take the subway."
"Why?"
"Your car's yours. Pre-marriage property. Using it means gas, wear, and tear. I don't want to owe you anything."
Her voice was flat. It was like she was talking about somebody else's business.
I blinked. She'd said those exact words once before, right after we got married. We'd fought for something, and she'd thrown them at me.
Back then, I'd been impressed. It said she was a reasonable modern woman.
But now, hearing it from her, seven months pregnant, hit different.
"Karina." I felt a flicker of annoyance. "You don't have to be so strict about it. It's one ride. I'm not gonna charge you."
"No. Rules are rules." She grabbed her bag from the couch. "We agreed to go Dutch. I'm sticking to it."
She grabbed her canvas bag from the couch and headed for the door.
Watching her go, I felt a strange pang like I was looking at a stranger.
She used to be different. She used to pout, complain, and find ways to show she was unhappy.
Every time, I'd win the argument with my logic and principles, leaving her speechless.
But now, she's stopped complaining. She's started using my own rules against me.
It was like throwing a punch and hitting air, frustrating and powerless.
"Fine," I said, my voice cold. "Don't be late."
She didn't turn around. The door clicked shut behind her.
I finished breakfast and drove to work. There was no traffic jam, but my mood stayed sour.
I kept replaying her words in my head. "Rules are rules."
Wasn't that what I always said? Shouldn't I be happy she was finally playing by the book? Then why did it bother me so much?
It must be her attitude and that calm, flat voice. Right, it was a silent protest.
I snorted. What good would protesting do? The rules were set. She had to follow them.
*****
At 9:05, I was in the morning meeting when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Karina.
She photo of the hospital payment counter. The text underneath was: [I'm here. Send the money.]
I opened my banking app, typed in 393 dollars, and hit send.
Perfect. Everything was running smoothly.
I turned back to the meeting, walking the team through last quarter's financials. My colleagues watched me with something like respect.
That feeling of being in control was deeply satisfying.
Marriage should be like a balance sheet. Income and expenses should all be transparent. Nobody got exploited.
*****
The meeting ended around eleven. I made coffee and stood by the window, watching the traffic crawl below.
My phone buzzed. It was Karina calling.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Michael. The doctor wants to admit me."
"Admit you? Why?" My first thought was, 'Here comes another bill.'
"Something's off with the baby's heartbeat. They want to keep me for observation for two days."
"Is it serious?"
"I don't know. That's why they want to watch me."
I went quiet. Admission meant a whole new round of costs, room fees, nursing, and tests. How were we supposed to split this?
"Go ahead and check in," I said. "We'll figure out the money when you're home."
"I need to pay now. The nurse is waiting. The deposit's a thousand and six hundred."
"A thousand and six hundred?" I frowned.
"I don't have enough in my account."
"Didn't you get paid last month?"
"I paid the mortgage. And my mom's last hospital bill. I've got about three hundred left."
It was her mom again. That family was a bottomless pit.
"That's your problem, Karina." My voice went flat. "We agreed. Your family's expenses are yours."
"I know. But I don't have the deposit right now."
"I'll transfer it. A loan. You can pay me back next paycheck." I opened my banking app.
"Should I write you a note?" Her voice was quiet.
Something snapped inside me. "Karina! Is that really how you want to talk to me?"
"I'm following your rules."
It was the same line. I clenched my jaw. "Fine."
I forced the words out. "I'll send you a thousand and six hundred. Interest at the bank rate."
I hung up before she could say another word.