“When the divorce papers arrive, don’t expect anything.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“The condo is in my name.”
He smiled.
“The SUV payments come from my account.”
Then he lowered his voice.
“And the savings account? You know how much is there.”
He tapped his phone.
“Enough to make sure you regret leaving.”
I stared at him.
“Austin.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know whose money built that account?”
He frowned.
“My salary.”
