“All right, make it four. If I’m going to be your husband, you can’t keep me on an allowance.”
“No, maybe not. But I’m not going to give you millions either, to blow however you want, or I’ll be out of money as fast as you are. I’d rather just pay the bills, the way I do now, and keep a few thousand in a petty cash account for you.” It was as far as she was willing to go. She didn’t want to buy him, and she was no one’s fool. She had learned a lot about handling money since her divorce.
“So you’re going to keep me on a leash,” he said angrily, narrowly missing a truck on a turn in the road, and his driving was scaring her. The road was wet and it was already dark, he was driving too fast, and he was furious with her.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me for five million dollars in an account for you,” Hope said, feigning a calm she didn’t feel.
“I told you, four would be fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I know you’re having money troubles, but I’m not going to do that, Finn.” She was offended that he had asked her, and even more so that he was insisting. “And when we get married, we’ll have to have a prenup.” She had mentioned it to her attorneys in New York several months before. They had already done a rough draft. It was relatively simple and said that what was Finn’s was his, and what was hers was hers. For obvious reasons, she didn’t want to commingle funds with him. Paul had given her that money, and she was keeping good track of it.
“I had no idea you were cheap,” he said bluntly, as he took another sharp turn in the road. It was an incredible thing for him to say to her, given what she had done for him with the house. He seemed to have forgotten very quickly her generosity with him. And she wasn’t cheap, she was smart. Especially given his newly discovered talent for telling lies. She was not about to turn her fortune over to him, or even a portion of it. Five million dollars was ten percent of what Paul had given her after twenty years.
They drove the rest of the way home in stony silence, and when he came to a sharp stop in front, she got out and walked into the house. She was extremely upset by his request, and he was even more so about her refusal. He walked straight into the pantry and poured himself a stiff drink, and she could already see the effect of it when he came upstairs to their room. She suspected he might even have had a second one by then.
“So what would you think is reasonable?” he asked her as he sat down, and she looked at him with a pained expression. Things were going from bad to worse. First his obsession with her getting pregnant, then the lying, and now he wanted a huge amount of money from her. Day by day he was turning into a different man, and then out of nowhere she’d get a glimpse of the old one, who had been so wonderful to her, and just as quickly he’d disappear again. There was something very surreal and schizophrenic about it, and she remembered his brother referring to him as a sociopath in the investigator’s report. She wondered now if maybe he was. She also recalled reading an article about something called “intermittent reinforcement,” where people were alternately abusive and loving, and their victims were so confused, they became more determined than ever to work things out. She felt like that now. Her head was spinning. His manipulations were a powerful magnetic force. It was almost as though his mask was slipping more and more and what she was seeing behind it was scaring her to death. She still believed that the good Finn was in there somewhere. But which one was real? The old one or the new one, or both?
“I’m not going to give you any money, Finn,” she said calmly, and then she saw that he had brought the bottle of scotch upstairs with him and poured himself another drink.
“You don’t think you can get away with that, do you?” he asked, turning nasty. “You’re sitting on fifty million bucks from your ex-husband, and I’m supposed to hang around, waiting for small change.” She had thought he was making a decent living, which would have solved the problem, but even if he wasn’t, she wasn’t about to start pouring millions of dollars into his accounts. It wasn’t right, and she didn’t want to buy a man. She realized too that he had complained about his expenses, sending Michael to college, and she wondered now if he paid for anything for his son, or if Michael’s grandparents were paying all his bills, and Finn was paying nothing.
“I’m not trying to get away with anything. I don’t want to buy a husband, or confuse things between us. I think what you’re asking for is unreasonable, and I’m not going to do it.”
“Then maybe you should marry Winfred instead. Maybe what you want is a servant and not a husband. If you’re only going to put a few thousand in an account and keep the rest yourself, then you should marry him.”
“I’m going to bed,” Hope said, looking unhappy. “I’m not going to discuss this with you anymore.”
“Did you actually expect to marry me, and not level the playing field a little? What kind of marriage is that?”
“A marriage based on love, not money. And honesty, not lies. Whatever happens after that is a matter of good fortune. But I’m not going to make a deal with you, or have you dictate to me to put five million dollars, or even four, in your petty cash account. That’s disgusting, Finn.”
“Your sitting on fifty million bucks of your ex-husband’s money and keeping it to yourself sounds pretty disgusting to me too. And fucking selfish, if you ask me.” It was the first time he had ever said anything even remotely like that to her, and she was shocked beyond belief. And she hadn’t appreciated the comment about marrying Winfred either, if she didn’t want to pay up. Finn was being rude, and mean. And tipping his hand in a frightening way.
Hope didn’t say another word to him. She turned around and walked into their bedroom and went to bed. She didn’t hear him come in that night. She had lain there for a long time before she fell asleep, wondering what was happening to her and what Finn was doing or turning into, right before her eyes. But whatever it was, it wasn’t good. In fact, things seemed to be falling apart at a rapid rate and getting worse day by day. It was getting harder and harder to believe that things would work out. She felt as though her heart were breaking as she went to sleep.
Chapter 17
From the day Finn first asked her for money, things went steadily downhill. The tension between them was unbearable, the arguments were constant, his drinking increased noticeably, and the conversation was always the same. He wanted four or five million dollars from her, no questions asked, in cash. And now he was demanding more when they got married. He asked her to go to the fertility doctor too, and this time she flatly refused.
The only thing that was keeping her there was the tender memory of how loving he had been with her before. It was almost as though he had temporarily lost his mind, or was having a nightmare, and she was waiting for him to wake up and become himself again. But so far he hadn’t. He just kept getting worse, while she clung to the belief that he would once again become the man she’d fallen in love with. And on some days, she wondered if that man, of the first eleven months, was even real. By Thanksgiving, she was beginning to wonder if he ever had been. Maybe the man she had known and loved was an act Finn had put on to suck her in, and this one was the real one. She no longer had any idea what to think. She felt off balance and confused, and she was miserable all the time. It had been going on for weeks.
On Thanksgiving she made a traditional turkey dinner for them, which was ruined when he started to argue with her halfway through the meal. It was the same horrifying conversation about the money he wanted, and why he felt she should give it to him. She finally got up and left the table without finishing her dinner. Listening to him wheedle, rage, and insult her made her feel sick.
As she lay in bed that night, thinking that maybe she should pack her bags and fly home, Finn suddenly turned to her and became loving again. He didn’t mention the money, thanked her for a beautiful dinner, and told her how much he loved her, and was so tender with her and kind to her that she actually made love with him, which they hadn’t done in days. And afterward, she felt psychotic, no longer knowing what to believe or what was real.
He woke her in the middle of the night, and started arguing with her again, on the same agonizing subject, until she finally fell asleep. She woke up in the morning and he served her breakfast in bed, and was his old attentive, good-humored, loving self. She felt as though she were losing her mind, or he was. But one of them was crazy, and she was no longer sure who. She was most afraid that it was her, and when she said something about his waking her during the night to argue with her, he insisted that he hadn’t, and she felt crazier than ever and wondered if she had dreamed it. She needed to talk to someone, to try and make sense of it, but there was no one to talk to. She had no friends in Ireland, and she didn’t want to call Mark and worry him. And she didn’t want to call the lawyer he had recommended whom she didn’t know. Paul was too sick to talk to. The only person she could talk to was Finn,
