“Your rent will pay your mother’s car loan?”
“Exactly.” Ethan leaned back. “My place can get twenty-eight hundred a month. Mom’s payment is only eleven hundred. We’ll still have extra.”
“And what do I get?”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I pay the mortgage here, the taxes, the HOA, utilities, repairs, groceries—and you collect rent from your property to pay your mother?”
His smile tightened.
“Why are you making it sound ugly? We’ll be married. It’s all one pot.”
Interesting phrase.
Because six months earlier, when I suggested combining a small emergency fund after marriage, Ethan had said, “I believe adults should keep their finances independent.”
Now my condo was suddenly “one pot.”
He reached across the table.
“Don’t turn this into a spreadsheet, Claire. You make way more than me. My mom sacrificed everything for me.”
Before I could answer, his phone lit up beside his plate.
