Worthless Things Shouldn’t Be Kept in the House
Chapter 1 — The Agreement
“Read it carefully,” my new mother-in-law said, sliding a sheet of paper across the glass table with two manicured fingers.
I read the bold header at the top. Financial Responsibility Agreement. Less than twenty-four hours ago I had stood at an altar and listened to a handsome man promise me the world.
Now I sat in his mother’s morning room while she explained the terms of my welcome.
“This family isn’t a charity,” Imelda went on.
“My son earns his money through blood and sweat, and you are a corporate assistant.
Living in a neighborhood like this means paying your share.
Three thousand dollars a month.
Rent and living expenses.
If you can’t manage it, pack your bags.”
To the woman she thought I was — Adaeze the PR assistant, a facade I had spent two years building — three thousand dollars was a punch to the stomach.
To the woman I actually was, it was less than I spent on a dinner.
But she didn’t know that yet.
Nobody in this house did.