“I handle more of the planning.”
“Which planning?”
“Groceries. Appointments. Household purchases. Holidays. Social obligations.”
“Fine.”
I nodded.
“You probably do more of that.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
I continued.
“But none of it explains why my entire salary needs to go through you.”
“It would let us plan better.”
“How?”
“Because everything would be visible.”
“Everything already is.”
“Not your personal account.”
“Do you show me every transaction in yours?”
“That’s different.”
There it was.
I leaned back.
“How?”
Lauren realized the mistake immediately.
“I just mean I’m better at planning.”
“So your paycheck belongs under your control because you’re good at money.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“And my paycheck belongs under your control because you’re good at money.”
“You’re twisting it.”
Brooke stepped in.
“If you trust your wife, why do you care who manages the account?”
The room went quiet.
It was one of those sentences that sounds wise until you turn it around.
I looked at her.
“If Lauren trusts me, why does she need exclusive control?”
Brooke had no immediate answer.
Lauren did.
“Because I’m your wife.”
“Exactly.”
I kept my voice calm.
“You’re my wife. You’re not my employer, not my accountant, and not my mother.”
Her chair scraped backward.
She stood.
“So that’s it?”
“What’s it?”
“You’re just refusing?”
“Yes.”