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He waved his hand dismissively without even looking up from his iPad.
“Yeah, yeah, relax. We’re a family… What’s mine is yours, right? It all goes to the same place, right?”
When the charge finally posted to my credit card statement, I stared at the number until my vision blurred.
$3,872.46. Money I’d planned to use for groceries, diapers, the electric bill — basic survival expenses for our family.
But I told myself it would be okay. He’d pay me back.
His friends would pay me back. It was temporary.
Two days before the trip, I brought it up again.
“Mark, the resort charged the full amount. Can you send me your half now?”
He didn’t even look up from scrolling through Instagram.
“Liv.
It’s all ours, anyway. Why are you stressing about this? Quit spoiling my mood!”
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