“Forty thousand dollars out of my bonus account,” I said.

“It wipes out eighteen thousand on my mother’s card and twenty-two thousand in office consulting debt all at once,” he said softly, his fingers pressing into my wrist.

“No more worrying about monthly interest or past-due notices in the mail.”

“And what happens to my job once that transfer goes through?” I asked.

“You write your resignation letter before five o’clock today,” he said, smiling as though he were granting a wish I’d had for years.

“You turn the household finances over to me, and I handle the mortgage while you give your mind a rest.”