“Okay, okay. If you don’t want to say, don’t. I just wanted to know in case you needed help.”
Help.
From Darius, who hadn’t offered to chip in for groceries even once in their five years of marriage.
Kiana finished her soup in silence.
Everything inside her went cold, but her face remained calm.
That was her greatest talent—never showing what was happening inside.
Money, she thought.
So it was about the money.
She really did have a significant amount in her account—over a hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
It was an inheritance from her grandmother Ruby, the only person who had ever truly loved Kiana without conditions.
Her grandmother had passed away two years ago, leaving her a small condo and her savings.
Kiana sold the condo, added the money to her own savings, and decided to set it aside slowly—for the kitchen renovation she dreamed of, maybe a vacation, or just a rainy‑day fund.
Darius knew about the inheritance.
Two years ago, he’d even tried to suggest she invest the money in some friend’s business venture.
Kiana refused, gently but firmly.
Since then, the topic of money hadn’t come up between them—until this week.
On Saturday, Darius started taking an interest in her purse.
