"And your job. Who got you that job in the first place? Remind me."
"That's enough!" Clement glared at me, his face flushed with anger.
"This is about the money, isn't it? You're still mad I told you not to take a cut?"
"Let me make this clear. That's my family's money. I said we don't want it, and that's final!"
Every word I'd been swallowing all night came roaring out.
"I never once thought about taking money from your family! Not from the very beginning!"
"And even if I wanted to, do you really think your parents and your two brothers would let me?!"
His face went ashen. "Think whatever you want. Here's what's happening: the day after tomorrow, we go to my parents' house."
"And if you don't show up, we're getting a divorce."
The bedroom door slammed shut behind him so hard the walls shook.
I sat on the edge of the bed and let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
My phone buzzed again. Mom.
[Meg, can you make it the day after tomorrow? Your dad went out today and bought that fish you love. He's keeping it alive in a basin for you.]
I stared at that message for a long time.
Then I opened the door and walked into the living room.