Chapter 4

"Melissa, if she quits, who's paying her bills? You?" I shot back.

Melissa went quiet for a second. "I—"

"Karina's salary is hers. She uses it to cover her share. That's what we agreed on from day one." I rubbed my temples. The hangover was brutal. "If she quits, she loses half her income. Who makes up for that?"

"You make more than 400 thousand dollars a year. Can't you cover a little more? She's carrying your child!"

"Our child," I corrected. "Since it's ours, responsibility should be equal. That's only fair."

"Y-you're talking nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense. It's honoring our agreement. I have to get to work. We'll talk later."

I hung up. Finally, some quiet. I got up and made coffee. My phone buzzed with a message from Karina.

It was a screenshot of a bank transfer of forty-five dollars. Note attached: [For the maternity kit.]

Good. At least she understood how things worked. I felt a little better. The rules were holding.

I finished my coffee and headed to the office. I spent the whole day buried in work, spreadsheets, market trends, and numbers.

Numbers were easier than people. With numbers, what I saw was what I got.

*****

That evening, driving home, I passed that baby store. On impulse, I pulled over and went inside.

I wanted to see what a ninety-dollar maternity kit actually looked like.

A cheerful saleswoman approached. "Shopping for your wife, sir? How far along is she?"

"Seven months."

"Then you might want to check out our—"

"I'm here for the ninety-dollar kit."

She paused. Her smile tightened a fraction.

She led me to a corner shelf and pointed at a plain pink bag. The cheapest-looking one there.

"Here you are, sir."

I picked it up and checked inside. There was almost nothing in it.

A handful of diapers, a flimsy set of baby clothes, and a small bottle of baby wash. All generic brands.

"What's your best maternity kit?" I asked.

Her eyes lit up. She hurried to the center display. There was a fancy gift box, beautifully wrapped.

"This one's imported from abroad. Everything inside is organic and of premium quality. It was perfect for mother and baby. A lot of celebrities use this brand."

I checked the price tag. It said nine hundred dollars, ten times what Karina had spent.

I put it back on the shelf and walked out without a word.

Back in the car, I lit a cigarette. I didn't know what I was feeling exactly. Something stuck in my throat.

I told myself it was her choice. If she wanted the expensive one, she could afford it.

She bought the cheap one to save her own money. That was her business, not mine.

I crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and started the engine.

My phone rang. It was Karina.

"Hello?" I answered.

"They're discharging me tomorrow," she said, her voice as calm as ever.

"Okay."

"The doctor said I'm a little undernourished. I need to eat better and take some pregnancy supplements."

"Oh."

"I checked the prices. They're over three hundred a month." She paused. "Does this count as something for the baby?"

She finally hit the nail on the head. I smiled to myself. "Karina, those supplements are for your health. The baby takes what it needs from you.

"So that would come out of your budget, right? What do you think?"

There was a long pause on Karina's end. I could hear her faint, steady breathing through the phone.

I knew what I'd said was cold, maybe even harsh. But it was true. My logic was solid.

"I understand." Her voice was quiet. Then she hung up.

She acted like always, no protest, no fuss, just acceptance. It made me feel like the villain somehow.

But I wasn't wrong. I was defending the rules and protecting our agreement. I'm making sure neither of us took advantage.

*****

The next day was Saturday. I actually had the day off. I went to the hospital around noon to pick her up.

At the discharge desk, I went through every bill carefully. I checked each charge down to the last cent.

Any fees, tests, or medications related to the baby, I marked those, totaled them, and split them in half.

As for her meals, room charges, and nursing fees, I handed the bill to her. "These are your personal expenses," I said.