Chapter 8
I barely slept that night. My dreams were a jumble of contracts and bills. My mom's face and Karina's kept flashing before me, both of them judging me with my own words.
When I woke up, I had dark circles under my eyes.
Karina, on the other hand, looked completely refreshed, warming up milk in the kitchen.
"About the expenses for my mom moving in," I forced myself to focus, sipping my black coffee.
"Here's how we can split it," I began. "Fixed costs, mortgage, property fees, we'll keep fifty-fifty, like always.
"Variable costs, utilities, groceries, we'll divide per person. Three of us, so I pay a third, you pay a third, and my mom's share is on you, since she's here for you."
I finished and looked at her. It seemed fair.
"No." She didn't even hesitate.
"Why not?"
Karina met my gaze. "Your mom is here to take care of me, the mother-to-be, and our baby. She's here for us."
She fixed her gaze on me. "So, her share of the expenses should be counted as part of the parenting costs.
"And we agreed to split parenting costs equally.
"So we split the extra costs for your mom living here."
My brain scrambled, searching for a flaw in her logic, but I couldn't find one.
She had a point. Framed as childcare, her argument held up.
"Fine," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Your way."
This felt like another loss. This feeling was the worst.
The rationality I used to pride myself on had become a cage I built for myself, trapping me in my own game.
I went to the office, but I was restless and distracted all day.
In the afternoon, the department head knocked and walked in, grinning. "Congratulations, Mr. Reed."
"I heard your wife's due soon. Here's a little something from the team." He handed me a beautifully wrapped box.
"What's this?"
He explained. "This is a gift for the baby, an imported monitor with breathing detection, the latest model."
I was stunned. "This is too much."
"Don't mention it. Hope for the best!" He set the gift on my desk with a big smile and left.
I stared at the monitor. I'd checked online. It cost over three thousand.
I started thinking. The gift was for the baby, so it was parenting assets. By our rule of splitting everything equally, we both had an equal claim.
The logic checked out the more I thought about it.
That evening, I put the monitor in front of Karina. "From my colleagues," I said.
She glanced at them, her expression blank. "Okay."
"The monitor's three thousand," I said, meeting her eyes. "This goes into our parenting asset, so we split it evenly. So, send me one thousand and five hundred for your half."
I waited for her reaction.
I expected her to explode, to yell, maybe even cry. But she didn't.
She stared at me for a long moment, then nodded.
"Okay." Karina pulled out her phone and opened her expense tracker.
The screen was crowded with tiny entries.
[Loan: Melissa's hospital bills, $600]
[Expense: My share of maternity kit, $45]
[Debt: Hospital bills split with Michael, $40]...
She scrolled to the bottom and added a new line: [Debt: Gift from Michael's colleague, $1,500]
She turned the screen toward me. "Is this how you want me to log it?"
A chill shot up from my feet, spreading through my whole body.
She wasn't acting out of spite. She was keeping records like a professional accountant, meticulously tracking every debt between us with absolute precision.
"Karina, what are you doing?" I croaked, my throat suddenly dry.
"Nothing," she replied, tucking her phone away. "If we're keeping score, we might as well be thorough about it.
"That way, neither of us ends up with a messy balance sheet at the end of this. You've always hated clutter, haven't you?"