showed him another number: his monthly debt payments consumed nearly half his take-home pay. He had not proposed a marriage budget. He had proposed using my housing costs to subsidize debts he had hidden.
He stood.
“You investigated me?”
“I verified the numbers you wanted me to marry.”
Denise laughed.
“Once you’re married, none of this matters. Couples help each other.”
There it was.
I looked at Ethan.
“Tell her.”
He said nothing.
So I played audio from my entryway camera two weeks earlier.
Denise’s voice filled the room.
“After
