I Finally Took My Ex-Husband’s “Three-Thousand-Dollar” Card to the Bank—Then the Manager Brought Out an Envelope with My Name
“I believe so.
I need to confirm the details.”
“Then confirm them.”
She spoke gently, but without the roundabout phrasing we had both been using for months.
That evening, David stayed on the telephone while I sorted the rent notice, medical bills, and grocery receipts into separate piles.
“How much is the monthly rent?”
“Eight hundred and seventy-five.”
“Food?”