“He isn’t here.” Her words lingered in my head even after the guy walked away from her door, and I knew he would be back. Those men don’t just give up. No, they keep coming back for more.

“What would have happened if I wasn’t here?” I asked her, and she stood in front of me, her eyes bloodshot and her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Say it,” I hiss, knowing the answer but wanting her to confirm it.

“I would have to come up with the money, which”—she throws her hands in the air, aggravated at me for asking these questions—“is what I’m going to have to do anyway.”

“Is it your debt?’ I ask her. She shakes her head. “Then why would you have to pay it?”

“Justin, what are you doing here?” she asks. Instead of keeping it to myself, I come out and tell her.

“I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “I texted you, and you never answered, and then I texted you again.” I drag out the again. “And when I got into my vehicle, before I knew it, I was parked outside. Then I sat there wondering how the fuck I would find you. I thought for sure I would have to go door to door, but then I remembered that I had your application.”

“So you just show up?” She puts her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes. “This is crazy, and you need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” I say, holding my ground.

“This has nothing to do with you.” Her voice gets louder, and I look behind her toward the bedroom where the soft light shows that Dylan is sleeping in the middle of the bed.

“Well, whether or not it has anything to do with me”—I shrug my shoulders—“I’m in it now.”

“That isn’t how this works, Justin,” she says. A tear sneaks out of her eye, and she angrily wipes it away. “This has nothing to do with you. This is my problem.”

“What about the guy he’s looking for?” I ask, and I watch to see if maybe she has feelings for him, but all I get is anger from her.

“That’s also my problem,” she says. “And no matter how I try to not make it my problem, it always seems to become my problem. Because that is the choice I made when I married him.” Her voice trails off at the end.

“You didn’t make the choice to steal from that man,” I say. “You didn’t make the choice for him to come knocking on your door. Sooner or later, you are going to see that you deserve better than this.”

She looks at me and smiles sadly. “The only one who deserves better than this is Dylan, which is why I bust my ass to make sure none of this touches him.”