“You didn’t care to know,” I said.

“You spent my future in a week.

The same week you told me a two-hour drive to my wedding was too exhausting.” “Maribeth, please,” my father begged.

“The bank says the house goes into default.

We’ll be on the street.” “You have thirty days to refinance without me,” I said.

“I paid the overdue balance on your lives for six years.