Anal Only Debt Payment

Anal Only Payment

This was never supposed to happen to me. So far my life had turned out pretty much exactly how I expected, and that was by design. When I was 18, my father told me that if I wanted him to pay for college, I had to study chemical engineering. I sucked at math, but I didn’t suck at making friends who could teach me math, so I agreed. I wanted to party and make friends, so I was going. The second reason I was going was because my mother told me that the single most important decision I’d make in life was who I married, and that college was a great place to find a husband.

I took this advice seriously and dated with marriage in mind. I interviewed all of my prospects on our first date. I wanted a husband who was dependable, ambitious, and loyal. One who was going somewhere in life so I wouldn’t have to stick with this chemical engineering thing too long. And I was successful. I found him. Or so I thought.

My sensible, reliable Walter had just been arrested for a litany of financial crimes I barely understood. Insider trading, and some very risky move involving shorting a stock he was absolutely sure would crash. It didn’t. We lost everything. Savings, investments, credit. Gone.

I looked in the mirror. I was wearing a camel cashmere sweater, tucked neatly into high-waisted cream trousers. I paired it with soft Italian loafers and my favorite pearl studs. I smoothed the fabric down over my hips, even though it didn’t need smoothing. My hands couldn’t stop. I looked like someone who had a plan. I looked like someone who would never have the need to say the word bankruptcy.

I made my way to the kitchen. It was a dusty ruin. There were half-tiled walls, wires exposed, no lighting, and no oven. Nothing but bare concrete floors and fixtures waiting patiently in their boxes. The countertops, sink, and appliances were paid for and delivered; all that was left was the labor to put it together. But now, I didn’t have the money to pay for that.

When the contractor arrived, I walked toward him, careful to step neatly around the piles of debris and equipment, and took a steadying breath.

“Hi,” I said softly. “Can we have a quick word?”

He turned from examining a wiring diagram and gave me a blank look. He was in his late thirties, solidly built, clearly accustomed to working hard. I didn’t even know his name. Walter had handled all of this. I’d barely interacted with him, except for a few times I’d noticed him watching me.

“I’m aware this is unusual,” I said slowly, awkwardly folding my arms across my chest. “But something has happened. We...I...don’t have the money right now to pay for the last part of the job. It’s temporary. We’ll be back on our feet soon, but...”

He interrupted me with a laugh, a short burst of disbelief. “Wait. You’re broke?”

I winced at the bluntness. “It’s complicated. My husband...” I dropped my voice to a whisper as though I was embarrassed about anyone overhearing what I was about to say, even though we were the only ones here. “He’s been arrested for some white-collar... Well, our lawyers are looking into it and they think...”

He cut me off again. “No,” he said calmly, setting down the diagram and looking at me directly. “It’s not complicated. You hired me to do a job, and I have a team who depends on me for a paycheck. You know how this works, right? No money from you means it comes out of my pocket. I pay them whether you pay me or not.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I really am. But we’ll have it eventually. We’ll get back on our feet. If you can just finish the work, we’ll...”

He shook his head, holding up a hand. “You keep saying ‘we.’ Your husband isn’t here. You’re on your own. Have you asked your family yet?” He gave a small shrug. “With a name like Catherine Banks Livingston, I know you didn’t suddenly come into money when you married. You’re old money.”

My cheeks reddened. The way he talked about my situation was so crude. I nodded stiffly.

“And Mommy and Daddy said no, huh?”

“They said I had to sort this out myself,” I whispered. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

He laughed again. “Looks like you really are on your own.” He picked up his clipboard and walked out, leaving me standing helplessly in my wreck of a kitchen. I felt the tears sting my eyes.

What was I going to do? So far, everyone knew my husband had been arrested, but they didn’t know how dire the situation really was, and I wanted to keep it that way. I was from money. I had a degree. B