The Emotional Price List

As soon as I hung up, Timothy called.

"The wedding planner just told me you canceled the wedding on your own. What are you trying to pull now?"

His voice was tight with anger. "All because I deducted $600 from you? How many times do I have to tell you? That money was going into our future fund anyway. It's money for us to get started when we build a life together."

I stared at the emotional price list lying on the desk that Timothy had made for Camilla.

My fingertips slowly went cold. "What about the other price list? My tears cost $50, but she gets $50,000 every time she pouts?"

"You went through my study?"

"You asked me to help you clean it up."

Timothy sighed, completely unfazed.

"You're different from Camilla. You're my girlfriend. You're the one I'm going to spend my life with, so I need to set you straight. She's always been like this. I just go along with her. Vera, I'm strict with you because I want our relationship to last."

I felt a hitch in my throat. "But you spent Valentine's Day with her today."

"I did it for you."

I froze. "For me?"

He sounded completely justified.

"Last week, you refused to take wedding photos with Camilla and me, and she got upset. The price list made it perfectly clear. If she got upset, I had to grant her a little wish. She wanted me to spend Valentine's Day with her. How could I say no?"

Last week, while I was trying on wedding dresses, Camilla had suddenly grabbed my veil and announced that she wanted the three of us to take wedding photos together.

Then, she cheerfully started assigning our positions.

"I'll stand in the middle, and Vera can stand on the right. That way, if you two ever fight, Vera can look at the pictures and remember that you don't belong to her alone."

As she said it, she tilted her head toward Timothy, looking as though she were trying to charm him—or waiting for him to give his approval.

When I refused, her eyes immediately reddened.

Timothy spent half an hour comforting her, then turned around and told me to apologize.

Clutching my phone, I asked, "So refusing to share my wedding photos with your best friend makes me unreasonable?"

"It's just a photo shoot. You're the one making it into something inappropriate."

"What about the $60,000 necklace?"

"She liked it, so I bought it on the spot."

"But last month, when I wanted a $6,000 laptop, you told me we couldn't waste money before the wedding."

"Your laptop still works."

"She can live without that necklace, too."

"Vera Hughes, when did you become so petty?"

My eyes suddenly began to sting. So even my feelings had a price tag.

He hung up on me.

Half an hour later, I heard the lock turn.