Chapter 5 - Derek's BoxI leaned back. "Because a man named Wendell walked past my office carrying a cardboard box."
She frowned. "What?"
"He worked with me for eleven years."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Everything." And for the first time since she'd stormed back into our house, she stopped arguing.
So I explained. Wendell had been laid off during a restructuring. Eleven years with the company. Two children. A mortgage. And a wife who hadn't worked since their youngest was born.
"I watched him carry that box out," I said, "and all I could think was: what happens to you if one day that becomes me?"
Priya slowly sat in the chair across from me. "So you decided I needed a career?"
"No." I looked directly at her. "I realized we had built your entire financial security around my paycheck."
She looked away.
"I tried talking about school six months ago. Remember?"
She did.
"You asked whether we were having financial trouble. When I said no, you asked why you should bother going back."
Priya stared at the folder. "I should have kept talking," I admitted. "Instead, I did what I always do."
"What?"
"I tried to solve everything myself."
She looked down. "You should have told me."
"Yes."
She seemed surprised I didn't argue. Then I continued. "And you should have stayed long enough for me to explain that I lost one job — not my ability to be your husband."
Neither of us spoke. Outside the window, students crossed the courtyard carrying backpacks and coffee.
Finally, Priya asked the question she probably should have asked three days earlier. "Are we broke?"
"No."
Relief crossed her face before she could hide it.
"We have savings. Severance. I told you that the night I came home."
May you like
"You did?"
"Yes." I held her gaze. "You heard that I lost my job and immediately decided I had lost my value."
