Rent Checks Don’t Make Noise, Power Does Novel – “One hundred and twenty thousand!” David Miller shoved his phone in front of my face. “Look at this! This job pays $120,000 a month!” I glanced at the job posting on the screen. “Now look at you,” he sneered. “Sitting around at home all day, not earning a single cent.” I set the phone down. “I’ve told you before, I didn’t need the money.” “Don’t need it?” His voice rose. “You’re living off my money! I only make fifteen thousand a month! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to support you?” I just looked at him.
For five years, he never knew that my monthly rental income was eight times his salary. … “You’re getting a job tomorrow.” David slammed his bowl down on the table. I looked up at him. “I said I don’t need to.” “Don’t need to?” He scoffed. “You’re thirty years old. What can you even do besides lounge around the house?” I stayed silent. “Look at Ella,” he went on. “She’s a manager now, pulling in twenty thousand a month.” “Now look at yourself.” I picked up some food with my fork. “I’m doing just fine.” “Just fine?” David’s voice grew louder.
“Do you know how much our monthly expenses are? Utilities, HOA dues, groceries—it all adds up to ten thousand!” “And I’m the one paying for all of it!” I put my fork down. “That money gets deducted from my card.” David paused, caught off guard. “Where does the money on your card come from?” “My parents gave it to me.” It was the only explanation I’d offered in five years. “You’re thirty!” David slammed his hand on the table. “Still asking your parents for money! Don’t you feel embarrassed? ” I met his gaze. Five years ago, when we got married, he said, “You don’t need to work. I’ll take care of you.” Now he was saying, “You don’t earn any money. Don’t you feel embarrassed?” I stood up. “I’m going to the balcony.” “Off to the balcony again!” David mocked.
“Is hiding the only thing you’re good at?” I walked to the balcony and closed the door behind me. Pulling out my phone, I opened the Mobile Banking App. Balance: $2,847,652. Rent Received Last Month: $118,000. I stared at the numbers and took a deep breath. My phone vibrated. A message from a tenant. “Hi, the A/C is broken. Can you send someone to fix it soon?” I replied, “Sure, I’ll arrange for a technician tomorrow morning.” Putting the phone down, I looked out the window. The community below, Pinecrest Estates, was one of the three properties under my name. This particular 120-square-foot apartment was our marital home.
It was registered in David’s name. A gift from me when we married. Under my own name, I had seventeen other properties. Scattered across various districts in the city. Some were left to me by my parents. Others I bought in recent years with rental income. But David had no idea. All he knew was that I “didn’t have a job” and was “useless.” The door opened. David stood in the doorway.
“My mom is coming tomorrow.” I turned to face him. “She wants to have a word with you,” he said with a cold smile. “About you finding a job.” With that, he turned and left. I looked out the window again. Tomorrow. His mother, Margaret, was coming.