Ashley was sitting on the living room sofa, her eyes red from crying, surrounded by shopping bags and open bill statements. Greg was pacing the hardwood floor, looking stressed and exhausted, holding a printout from his bank showing a heavily depleted balance after covering Ashley’s emergency tuition gaps, back-rent, and luxury car fees out of his own pockets.
They both stopped and looked at me as I walked through the door carrying my coat.
“Diane,” Greg said, stepping forward, his tone dropping the arrogance from this morning, replaced by a desperate plea for order. “Look… Ashley realizes she was out of line last night. She was just stressed about exams. We need to sit down and figure out how to restructure the household accounts. This reaction of yours… it’s ruining our budget.”
Ashley looked up, biting her lip, though her eyes still flashed with lingering resentment. “I’m sorry I called you the help, okay?” she muttered, offhanded and empty. “Can you just put the car payment back on your card? My credit score is going to drop.”
