Chapter 7
I gripped the cold ring, my palm slick with sweat. The words on the note stung like needles.
Returning it to its owner. Signing a formal employment contract.
What was her game? Was she trying to rub my nose in it?
I fired up the engine and tore down the road toward home, tires screeching.
I needed to settle this. She had to understand who calls the shots in this house.
I shoved the door open. She was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thin blanket, reading a parenting book.
She was so absorbed as if nothing had happened.
I slammed the ring box onto the coffee table. It hit hard.
She jumped, startled, and looked up.
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?" I snapped, jabbing a finger at the box.
"Exactly what it says." Karina closed her book, her voice steady. "You bought the ring. It's yours. I've got no right to keep it."
"I'm your husband," I shot back.
"Legally, yes." Her tone was ice.
"Then you should be wearing my ring," I barked.
"Why?" she replied, her face unreadable. "A ring stands for loyalty, for love. Is there any of that left between us?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Save the drama," I snapped, shifting gears. "What's this about my mom? A work contract? You want to turn her into your nanny now?"
"A postpartum caretaker," she corrected. "Market rate is four thousand a month, room and board included. I think that's fair."
"Fair?" I let out a resentful laugh. "That's my mother we're talking about! She's the baby's grandmother. You want to pay her like some hired hand? How's she supposed to face anyone after that?"
"The same would go for my mom, too," Karina said.
I thought playing the family card would make her back down, but she didn't even blink.
"If your mom's not comfortable with it, I can always hire a certified postpartum nanny from outside. That'll run six thousand a month," she added.
She had a backup plan ready.
"You..." I felt like I was punching a pillow, completely useless. All my anger, all my arguments dissolved in front of her.
Because she was using the very logic I'd taught her, no emotions, stick to the deal.
"Karina, do we really have to be this calculating?" I asked, my voice flat. "Do we really need to keep score?"
"What else is there?" Karina stood, walking right up to me. Her pregnant belly made me instinctively step back.
"Michael, you're the one who taught me," she said. "In marriage, keeping things clear is the only way to make it work.
"Feelings are the most unreliable thing in the world.
"Only the money in your pocket and the words on paper are real."
With that, Karina turned and walked into the home office. She came back with a printed contract and handed it over.
"This is the Home Childcare Agreement I drew up. Take a look. If your mom's okay with it, you can go ahead and sign."
I stared at the document. The title was bolded.
Everything was laid out: services, hours, pay, responsibilities, and breach of contract terms. As professional as any corporate deal.
My hands trembled, not from anger, but from fear. For the first time, I realized things were slipping out of my control.
Karina, the woman I thought I had completely figured out, had changed so much that I barely recognized her.
My phone rang. It was my mom. I hit the speaker.
My mom sounded genuinely happy. "Michael, I've made up my mind. I'm coming over!
"Karina told me everything, and she's even paying me! She's so considerate. She doesn't want me to overwork or pay out of pocket."
"Mom, don't listen to her—"
"I don't care. I'm coming next month, salary or no salary. I want to take care of my grandchild.
"Oh, and about that contract, Karina said I should sign it with you. Get it ready so nobody can say I'm taking advantage of you two."
The call ended, and I stood there, stunned. The contract in my hand felt like it might burn through my skin.
As Karina walked by, she grabbed the parenting book off the table.
"Seems like your mom doesn't have any objections," she said, barely glancing up. "Maybe tomorrow we should talk about how we're handling the extra living costs once she moves in."