Discover how a seemingly innocent “50/50” split led to a husband learning a life-changing lesson about fairness and respect in marriage. A story of growth, realization, and new beginnings.
“What dinner?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you give me money for it? No! So why should I be held responsible?”
Levan’s face reddened as he felt his anger building. “So what am I supposed to do now? Walk around hungry?”
“Of course not,” Annabeth replied calmly. “You can go to the store, buy some groceries, and make dinner. Or you can order delivery. You have money, after all.”
“Is this a strike?” he finally asked, his voice rising in frustration. “Are you refusing to do your wife duties?”
Annabeth’s patience snapped. She was tired of this. “I’m tired of being the milk cow in this family! Why do I have to carry everything on my own?” Levan slammed his briefcase down on the table and pointed at the new food processor. “Bought something again?”
Annabeth stared at him in disbelief. It was so unexpected that she didn’t know how to respond at first. Dinner was nearly ready, the apartment was clean, the laundry done — everything was in order, just like any other day after a long day of work.
“Lëva, I’ve wanted this for a long time,” she said softly. “It was on sale, and I used my salary…”
“Your salary!” he interrupted, pacing the kitchen. “And what’s left of it? Pennies! Who pays for our apartment? Me! Who pays for the car? Me! Who covers all the major expenses? Me!”
Annabeth turned off the stove and wiped her hands on her apron. The steam from the pot filled the kitchen with pleasant aromas, but her appetite had vanished.
“But I work too,” she said quietly. “Full time, by the way. And with my salary, we buy groceries. And I also cook, clean, and do the laundry…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re just a saint,” Levan scoffed, slamming the cupboard door as he grabbed a mug to pour himself some water. “You know what? I’m fed up. Now everything will be fair. We’ll split the expenses fifty-fifty, since you’ve got it easy living off me.”
“What do you mean?” Annabeth crossed her arms.
“Exactly what I mean. Since we’re all modern and equal, we’ll pay fifty-fifty. We’ll split the utility bills, the phone bills, and all other shared expenses. That’s fair, not me taking everything on myself!”
Annabeth wanted to argue, but she knew it was pointless. He wasn’t interested in fairness, but in controlling the narrative. Instead, she sighed and replied, “Fine, Levan. You want fairness, fifty-fifty, then that’s how it’ll be.”
The next morning, Annabeth woke up before the alarm. Levan was still asleep, turned toward the wall. The conversation from the previous night spun in her mind, preventing her from resting. Quietly getting out of bed, she went to the kitchen.
In their four years of marriage, they had somehow come to a division of labor that now seemed obviously unfair to her. Yes, Levan earned more. Yes, in the first year of their relationship, when she was still a senior student, it made sense that he provided financially while she took care of the house. But then Annabeth started working too! First part-time, then full-time. Yet, the household duties remained entirely hers.
She opened her laptop and began reviewing her card statements. Salary, utility bills, groceries, daily expenses… Almost everything she earned went toward the family budget. But what about her contribution? The cooked meals, the laundry, the cleaning — didn’t that count for anything?
As she sipped her tea, the memory of their first meeting brought a sad smile to her face. Levan used to court her. He used to call her his queen, saying he’d do anything for her. And now? “Milk cow,” huh? How quickly romance turns into accounting for some men.
Later that day, Levan sat in his office, talking to his colleague, Irish.
“And you know, Irish, I told her yesterday—enough is enough. We’ll live like all modern families—fifty-fifty,” Levan leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.
Irish glanced at him, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “And how did she react?”
“You won’t believe it—she agreed!” Levan grinned, a sense of victory in his voice. “Right away, no arguments.”
“Seriously?” Irish raised an eyebrow. “Just like that?”
Levan nodded. “Looks like she finally realized I’m right. What’s so wrong with fairness?”
“Everyone has their own idea of fairness,” Irish replied thoughtfully, returning to his work. “My aunt likes to say: ‘Be careful with what you wish for, it tends to come true.'”
Levan frowned, unsure of the meaning. “What does that mean?”
Irish smirked. “No idea, but it sounds smart, doesn’t it?”
Levan laughed, brushing off the strange feeling that had briefly crept up on him. Everything would be fine. Annabeth was a reasonable woman.
Meanwhile, Annabeth was in a store, staring at the shelves, carefully considering the price tags. Before, she would have filled up a cart for the whole family—groceries for a week. Today, her small basket contained only yogurt, cheese, bread, and a chicken breast. She didn’t even glance at the fish fillet Levan loved.
The evening passed unusually quiet. At home, Annabeth quickly prepared herself a baked chicken breast with vegetables, ate dinner, washed the dishes, started a load of laundry, and settled comfortably on the couch with her tablet. She had three shows to watch that she had been meaning to get to, but never had the time. Her phone buzzed with a message from Levan: “I’ll be home in half an hour. What’s for dinner?”
Annabeth smiled and put the phone aside without responding.
The key turned in the lock, and Levan entered the apartment, weary from his day at work. He headed straight for the kitchen, expecting the usual wonderful aroma of dinner.
“Anyut, I’m home!” he called out, taking off his coat.
There was no response. He entered the kitchen, only to find it empty and clean, with no sign of dinner. He opened the fridge and saw half-empty shelves—yogurt, cheese, and some vegetables.
“Annabeth!” he called, heading toward the living room.
His wife was sitting on the couch, absorbed in something on her tablet, wearing headphones. When she noticed him, she pulled one earbud out.
“Oh, hi. Are you home already?”
“Yeah, I’m home. And where’s dinner?” Levan glanced around as though food might be hiding somewhere in the living room.
Annabeth looked at him, slightly surprised. “What dinner?” she asked. “Did you give me money for it? No! So, what’s the issue?”
Levan froze, unable to believe his ears. “Are you serious?” His voice rose, almost to a shout. “I come home after a tough day at work, and you didn’t even make dinner?”
“You didn’t give me money for your half of the dinner,” Annabeth replied calmly, removing the second earbud. “You said yesterday: fifty-fifty. I bought food for myself, with my money. I cooked for myself, ate. Just like we agreed.”
“But…” Levan stood there, stunned. “That’s not what I meant! I meant the shared expenses…”
“Exactly,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Shared expenses — fifty-fifty. Dinner is needed by both of us, so I bought groceries for myself, and I cooked for myself.”
“So now, do I have to go hungry?” Levan asked, anger building up inside him.
“Of course not,” Annabeth replied calmly. “You can go to the store, buy groceries, and cook dinner. Or order delivery. You have money, after all.”
Levan stared at her, his mind spinning. “Is this a strike?” he asked finally. “Are you refusing to do your wife duties?”
Annabeth slowly put the tablet aside and turned toward her husband. “Wife duties?” she repeated, her voice hardening. “I’ve been fulfilling them faithfully until yesterday. But yesterday, you suggested splitting the money fifty-fifty, and I started thinking, why are you being so unfair to me?”
“Me?!” Levan gasped. “I…”
“Yes, you,” Annabeth interrupted. “Before, with your money, we paid the big bills, and with mine we bought groceries and a few things. And I still cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry. Every evening, after work. And on weekends — full cleaning, cooking for several days to free up time. Do you remember last Sunday when I spent three hours in the kitchen preparing food? And three hours cleaning the apartment? That’s six hours of work, almost a full workday. On my day off.”
Levan remained silent, processing what he had just heard.
“And now you’re saying fifty-fifty,” Annabeth continued. “Well, that’s fair. But let’s really make it fifty-fifty. Not just the money, but the housework too. Cooking — we’ll take turns, or each of us will cook for ourselves. Cleaning — we’ll divide the chores. Laundry — each does their own. How does that sound?”
Levan awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other.
“Listen, well, this is… I don’t even know how to turn on the washing machine…”
“I’ll show you,” Annabeth smiled. “It’s not difficult.”
“And anyway, if you’re not going to cook and clean, then why do I need you?” Levan blurted out, immediately regretting his words.
Annabeth stared at him for a long time, not blinking. Then she slowly got up from the couch.
“And providing for the family is a man’s duty,” she said quietly. “But I don’t ask, ‘Why do I need you?’ even though you’ve never been great at it, since I’ve had to work. And now, you’re refusing your manly duty.” She tilted her head. “But see, I don’t ask that question. Because we are a family. At least, I thought so.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Levan looked at the floor, feeling his righteous anger turn into shame. Annabeth stood tall, her shoulders squared, waiting for his answer.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I overreacted. Let’s go back to the way things were, okay?”
He expected Annabeth to be happy, to rush to hug him, and go make dinner. But she only shook her head.
“Why should I?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “I would have made dinner for you, ironed your shirts, washed the dishes. But now, I’ve already eaten, I’ve done everything, and I was going to watch a new episode. It’s actually more convenient for me, you know.”
With those words, she returned to the couch, put her headphones back in, and started watching her tablet again, leaving Levan standing there, mouth agape.
End