carried his health insurance.
He answered everything with his usual patience.
On the drive home, he said:
“Your mom sure loves numbers.”
He had no idea how right he was.
I didn’t tell him because I still hadn’t let myself count what those numbers meant.
That night, while he slept, my phone lit up.
My mother.
“He seemed steady, honey. Also, a small loan this month. Don’t tell your father.”
I stared at the message for a long time.
Apparently even my engagement had a price of admission.
I paid
