“I did not want your money, Ruth,” Lauren said. “I wanted my husband to pay the rent he promised to pay. I did not want to involve his parents in our financial security until there was no other choice.”
Ruth pulled her hand back from the freezer door, letting it swing shut with a soft, hollow click. She looked down at the linoleum floor, where the pattern had worn away entirely in front of the sink. “He told us you were both trying to work through things. He said the separate living arrangements were just to give each other space while the Columbus house was being painted.”
“The Columbus house is not being painted,” Lauren said. “The keys were returned to the bank in April. The bank is auctioning it next month.”
Ruth’s hand moved to her collar, her fingers tracing the silver brooch she always wore. “He told his father that the mortgage was fully paid through the summer.”
“He lied about that too,” Lauren said.
