“You left us stranded!” Tyler snapped. “We were at the supermarket checkout in front of a line of people and the card was declined, then Brittany realized you must have changed the password.”
He paused to breathe before adding another sentence that sounded more wounded than angry. “Do you know how humiliating that was?”
Brittany stepped forward with her chin raised and her voice sharp. “I am the one trying to keep this household running while you control everything from behind the scenes.”
That accusation hurt me, not because of her opinion but because of how quickly my son seemed ready to accept it. Even then I kept my voice steady and invited them both to come inside and sit down so we could speak calmly.
Tyler walked in like a man expecting a fight while Brittany scanned the room with restless eyes as if she were searching for proof that I had money hidden everywhere. On the table sat a gray folder I had prepared that morning containing printed bank statements, screenshots from my account, and a list of charges arranged by date and location.