Mark scoffed and waved his hand toward the hallway.

“That money was deposited into our joint checking six years ago,” Mark said.

“It became joint marital money the second it hit the balance.”

I picked up my handbag from the kitchen chair and slung the dark leather strap over my shoulder.

“I’m going upstairs to wash my face,” I said.

“Don’t lock yourself in there all morning,” Mark said, turning his back to pull a fresh paper towel off the roll.

“We have financial release papers to go over before I drive in to the office.”