Chapter 10 - His Apartment Or Hers
I hadn't been to Daniel's rental in almost three weeks. That afternoon I told myself I just wanted to drop off his dry cleaning and see how he was living.
He buzzed me up without asking who it was. The hallway on the second floor smelled like old carpet cleaner and someone's burned toast. His door was already cracked open when I got there.
"Hey," he said. He was in a T-shirt and suit pants, barefoot. He tried to smile, but his eyes went quick to my hands, to my purse where my phone was. "You didn't have to come by."
"I was in the area," I said. I held up the garment bag. "Thought I'd save you a trip."
His living room was nothing like the way he'd kept it when we started dating. A pizza box sat collapsed on the coffee table next to a stack of unopened mail. The sink in the kitchenette was full, and a laundry basket overflowed by the couch. I tried not to stare, but I saw the top envelope. Past Due in red block letters from his property manager. Under it, another one with a credit card logo and a late fee box showing through the window.
He moved fast to clear a spot for me. He swept the mail to one side like it was junk.
"Sorry about the mess. Work's been insane," he said. He folded the garment bag over a chair. "You want water or something?"
"I'm fine," I said. I sat on the edge of the couch. My receipt from the boutique was still folded in my wallet, and my phone felt heavy in my purse. I didn't take it out.
He sat across from me and rubbed his hands on his knees. For a minute it was almost normal. He asked about my shift. I asked about his hours. He kept glancing at the mail he'd pushed aside.
"I meant what I said," he said quietly. "About us being okay. I've been thinking about the wedding and - "
His phone rang on the coffee table. The screen lit up. Mom.
He hesitated, then picked it up. "Hey, Ma. Yeah, she's here - Emily's here."
I could hear her voice right through the speaker, sharp and clear. "Good. Put me on speaker. This will be faster."
Daniel looked at me. "It's about the bank stuff. She said - "
"Put me on speaker, Daniel," his mother said again.
He did. He set the phone between us.
"Emily, honey," she said, her tone suddenly warm. "I talked to the branch this morning. If you two open the joint account now, right after the wedding, everything transfers so much smoother. Rent, utilities, your apartment deposit. Daniel can handle it all so you don't have to worry."
I kept my breathing even. "We haven't decided on any joint account yet."
"Oh, but you should," she said. "Married couples do. And with your apartment, it makes sense to put his name on for convenience. For mail, for emergencies. You wouldn't want him locked out if something happened."
Daniel stared at the phone. He didn't correct her.
"Daniel works so hard," she went on. "He told me about those late fees piling up. Once you're married, your savings can cover both places until you sell or rent out yours. That's what family does."
I looked at Daniel. His jaw tightened. He mouthed, hold on, but he didn't stop her.
"Ma," he said, low. "Now's not - "
"Just listen to me," she cut in. "Tell her you already talked to the bank. Tell her it's normal. Don't let her overthink this."
There it was. The coaching, plain as day. Tell her. Don't let her. The same low pressure I'd heard through the brown curtain in the fitting room, only now it wasn't a whisper.
My hands went cold. I stood up before I realized I'd decided to.
"I should go," I said. "I told my building manager I'd meet her about a leak."
Daniel stood too fast and knocked the stack of mail. One of the past-due notices slid to the floor. "Emily, wait. She just - she worries about money. That's all."
"I know," I said. I kept my voice level. I picked up my purse and slung it over my shoulder. "We'll talk later. I've got to get back."
He followed me to the door. "Are we okay? About the account? We don't have to do anything now."
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"We haven't opened anything," I said. "Let's keep it that way for now."
On the stairs going down, I heard his phone still going, his mother still talking. I didn't go back to listen. I didn't need to. I'd seen the envelopes on his table and heard exactly whose plan it was to fix them.
