Chapter 3

Elyse Delgado POV:

Julien looked down at my cracked, bleeding knuckles.

For a brief, fleeting second, something that resembled guilt flickered across his face.

He cleared his throat, took half a step back, and lowered his hands to his sides.

"You... you should have put lotion on before you went out in the cold," he muttered, though the sharpness in his voice had deflated slightly. "Fine. I will soak the pans tonight. But you need to manage your stress, Elyse. You're turning every minor domestic task into a battleground."

Brandee quickly grabbed her purse from the entryway console, sensing the shift in the room.

"I should go back to my unit," she said in a trembling, fragile voice, hurrying toward the door. "Thank you for the pasta, Julien. I'll see you tomorrow morning for coffee."

She slipped out the door, leaving Julien and me alone in the living room.

I didn't say another word to him.

I walked straight into the bathroom, washed my hands with cool water, applied the cheap petroleum jelly that barely helped my cracked skin, and went into my home office, shutting the door firmly behind me.

I pulled out my laptop and checked my work emails.

My regional director had sent an announcement regarding the upcoming quarterly restructuring.

Our corporate branch back in Columbus, Ohio—my hometown—was expanding its central marketing operations and looking for a Senior Marketing Director to lead the regional team.

The salary was one hundred and thirty thousand dollars a year, thirty-five thousand more than what I was making now, with a full relocation package.

My phone screen lit up on the desk.

It was a text from my brother, Alex:

"Hey El, Mom and Dad are really missing you. You haven't been home for Thanksgiving or Christmas in two years. If Julien is being tight with the budget again, let me know. I'll buy your plane ticket myself. Just come home for the holidays."

Tears pricked the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away immediately.

I didn't need Alex to buy my plane ticket.

I was a successful, high-earning professional.

I had over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars sitting in a joint savings account that I had built with my own sweat, sixty-hour work weeks, and miserable self-deprivation.

I opened my corporate portal and immediately submitted my formal application for the Senior Marketing Director position in Columbus.

Then, I booked five days of paid time off for Thanksgiving week, which was approved by HR within ten minutes.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked out into the living room where Julien was sitting on the sofa, scrolling through his iPad.

"Julien," I said, standing three feet away from the coffee table.

He looked up, his expression guarded. "What?"

"I just approved my Thanksgiving time off," I said evenly. "I'm flying home to Ohio next Wednesday to spend five days with my parents and Alex. I need two hundred and fifty dollars from our joint account to book the round-trip flight on Southwest."

Julien's face instantly hardened into that familiar, dismissive scowl.

"Two hundred and fifty dollars for a five-day trip?" he snapped, tossing his iPad onto the cushion. "Did you forget what we talked about literally three weeks ago? We are trying to hit our two-hundred-thousand-dollar milestone by next spring so we can pay for a luxury wedding venue and a month-long honeymoon in Europe."

"Julien, I haven't seen my parents in two years," I said, keeping my tone steady. "Two hundred and fifty dollars out of one hundred and fifty thousand is a drop in the ocean. It's my family."

"It's about the principle, Elyse!" he argued, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "If you take two hundred and fifty dollars now, next month you'll want three hundred for Christmas. Then you'll want new clothes for the trip. It cascades. Sacrifice now so we can enjoy our future later. Why is that concept so difficult for your brain to comprehend?"

The front door opened without a knock, and Brandee walked back in holding an empty ceramic mug.

"Julien, do you have any of that organic oat milk left?" she asked casually, walking straight to our refrigerator as if she owned the place.

Hearing our conversation, Brandee turned around, leaning against the counter with a look of faux concern.

"Are you talking about Thanksgiving, Elyse?" Brandee chimed in softly. "Honestly, traveling during the holidays is such an amateur move. The airports are packed, flights get delayed, and you just end up stressed out. You should stay here with Julien. I'm having my parents over, and we can all do a cozy Friendsgiving together in the building!"

I looked at Brandee, then looked at Julien.

The pattern was so clear it was blinding.

Every single holiday for three years, Julien had manufactured a financial emergency or an arbitrary savings goal to prevent me from going home, keeping me isolated in this city, cooking and cleaning while he catered to Brandee.

"I've been funding our savings account with my entire salary for three years, Julien," I said, ignoring Brandee completely. "I have put over one hundred and twenty thousand dollars into that account. I am not asking for your permission. I am withdrawing two hundred and fifty dollars tonight."

Julien's posture stiffened immediately.

A flash of genuine panic crossed his eyes before he quickly masked it with a patronizing chuckle.

He stood up, walked over to me, and tried to place his hands on my shoulders.

I took a sharp step back, dodging his touch.

His hands hung awkwardly in the air.

"Elyse, baby, don't be like this," he said, switching to his smooth, manipulative voice. "You know I only manage the money because I want the best for us. You get emotional about spending, and I provide the rational structure. But if this trip means that much to you... fine. I'll make an exception."

He pulled out his phone, opened his banking app, and tapped the screen.

A few seconds later, my phone chimed.

"You have received a transfer of $250.00 from Julien Mccarty."

I looked at the notification, then up at him.

In three years, Julien had never once backed down on a financial demand without days of psychological warfare.

Whenever I asked for fifty dollars for new work shoes, he made me fight for a week.

Tonight, the moment I mentioned withdrawing the money directly from the account myself, he transferred it in ten seconds.

"See?" Julien smiled, his eyes tight and strained. "I'm not the monster you make me out to be. Go book your ticket. I have a massive project deadline next week, so I'll stay here and work through the holidays to keep saving. That way, one of us is being productive."

My internal alarm bells were screaming.

Something was fundamentally wrong.

Before I could say anything, my phone rang.

The caller ID showed 'Alex'.

I answered and put it to my ear. "Hey, Alex."

"Hey, El!" Alex's booming, cheerful voice came through the speaker loud enough to be heard in the quiet room. "Change of plans! Dad's arthritis is acting up, so we decided it's stupid to make you fly back and forth in five days. Dad, Mom, and I just booked a road trip! We're driving up to your city next Wednesday and staying with you for Thanksgiving week!"

A heavy silence dropped over the living room.

"What?" Julien gasped, his voice cracking.

"That's wonderful, Alex," I said, looking straight at Julien's pale face. "You're all staying here?"

"Yeah, Mom is already packing her homemade apple pies," Alex laughed. "We'll take your guest room, and I'll sleep on the living room pull-out couch. We can't wait to see your place!"

"I can't wait either. See you Wednesday, Alex."

I hung up the phone.

The condo was deathly silent.

This condo was purchased entirely under my name two years ago.

My parents gave me fifty thousand dollars for the down payment, and I had paid the mortgage and property taxes without missing a single payment.

Because my parents were humble and hated intruding on my adult life, they had never once visited my city, not wanting to make Julien feel crowded.

Julien stood frozen in the center of the living room, his face draining of all color.

Then, he forced a grotesque, twitching smile.

"Elyse... that's... that's great that they're saving money on flights," he stammered. "Very responsible of them."

"Yes," I said calmly. "So Brandee, you have until Tuesday evening to clear all of your clothes, shoe racks, and storage boxes out of my guest room. My parents need that room on Wednesday morning."

Brandee's face twisted in pure shock and horror.

"What?" Brandee shrieked, dropping her empty mug onto the counter with a loud clatter. "Clear out the guest room? But... but my parents and my younger brother are arriving on Tuesday night! Julien already promised me that my family is staying in your guest room for the entire holiday week!"