“Olivia, we need to talk,” he said, his voice cold and sharp.
I sat up in bed, my heart already starting to race.
He threw a piece of paper at me. It fluttered onto the blanket, and when I picked it up I saw it was our credit card statement. Groceries from three days ago. A birthday gift for my mother, who was recovering from surgery. Gas for my car. Nothing unusual. Nothing extravagant.
“Care to explain this?” Derek asked, crossing his arms.
“I don’t understand,” I said softly. “These are normal expenses. We talked about getting something nice for my mom since she’s been so sick.”
“You spent eighty dollars on a gift when we’re trying to save money. And look at this grocery bill. A hundred and forty dollars. What did you buy? Gold-plated vegetables?”
