"She served her father-in-law dinner in the dog’s bowl and told him a useless old man didn’t deserve a plate, while his own son sat there crying in silence because his wife controlled every dollar in the house."

CHAPTER 2

Three years earlier, Eric would have thrown the bowl through the window.

Three years earlier, he still owned his father’s repair business, still had his name on the trucks, still had customers who shook his hand and called him honest. Three years earlier, Brittany had not yet convinced him that selling the company was “temporary,” that moving into her house was “smart,” that putting accounts in her name was “just easier.”

Now Eric had a closet full of expensive shirts he had never chosen and a bank card that stopped working whenever Brittany got angry.

And Howard knew it.

That was why the old man never asked his son for money.

He would rather skip lunch than let Eric feel smaller.

After dinner, Howard carried his own plate to the sink, though Brittany had never served him food. He rinsed it anyway, hands trembling slightly under the faucet.

Eric followed him into the kitchen.

“Dad,” he said softly.

Howard turned off the water.

“She shouldn’t have done that,” Eric said.

Howard dried his hands with a towel and looked toward the dining room, where Brittany was already laughing into her phone like nothing had happened.

“No,” Howard said. “She shouldn’t have.”

Eric swallowed.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

Howard’s face changed then. Not angry, but tired in a way Eric had never seen before.

“You fix it by deciding what kind of man you are before someone else decides for you.”

Eric looked down.

Howard reached into his cardigan pocket and pulled out a small folded paper. He held it for a second, then changed his mind and put it back.