A House of Lies
Now I knew he'd been bleeding me dry for Riley Anderson, his childhood sweetheart.
"I want to refinance the house, too," he added.
I stopped what I was doing, my hands frozen in the sink, and turned to stare straight at him.
"You really want your four three-year-old sons to end up homeless?"
This house wasn't much, just a small three-bedroom, but it was ours—the one we'd fought for, saved for, and sacrificed for.
The mortgage wasn't even close to being paid off. His name was on the deed because when we first bought it, I had been out of town on business. He'd told me it would be easier that way, with him making the payments.