“And the apartment?”
“I paid the down payment. The funds moved from my trust account to a joint account Elias and I opened three months ago. He said it would make the mortgage process cleaner if we paid from one account.”
Rebecca’s mouth tightened. “Did you sign anything giving him ownership?”
“The apartment is in both our names.”
“Mortgage?”
“In both our names too.”
My father exhaled through his nose, a sound more dangerous than anger.
“I told you,” I said quietly. “I really believed him.”
He sat beside me. “Ella, I am not angry at you.”
“You should be.”
“I am angry enough already. I don’t need to waste any of it on the wrong person.”
Rebecca tapped her pen against the notebook once. “Anything else jointly held?”
“A small checking account. Wedding gifts will probably go there. Maybe a few utilities. Nothing major.”
“Prenuptial agreement?”
I looked down.
“No.”
My father’s shoulders stiffened.
Rebecca noticed. “Jonathan.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I swallowed. “Mom told me not to make money the center of my life. I thought if I hid it, I’d know whether someone loved me for me.”
For a while, neither of them spoke.
