I took a calm sip of my coffee. “It’s an itemized bill for services rendered,” I replied calmly. “I thought you’d appreciate the breakdown since you’re so worried about fair payment based on usage.”
Thomas stood in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “This is crazy! Twenty thousand dollars for… for doing things around the house? Things you’re supposed to do anyway?”
“Am I?” I raised an eyebrow. “Are cleaning supplies my sole responsibility because I do most of the cleaning? Is cooking a meal and then charging you for your share normal? Is sending your wife a bill for using Wi – Fi in her own home while she works something spouses are ‘ supposed’ to do?”
“That’s… that’s different!” he stammered, waving the paper in the air. “Those are actual expenses!”
“And my time isn’t?” I asked. “My labor isn’t an expense? The mental load of running our household isn’t worth anything?”
“You chose to do those things,” he insisted. “I never asked you to clean more or cook more!”
“And I never asked to be treated like a business associate instead of a wife,” I replied, standing up and walking to our bedroom to get my bag. Thomas followed me. “You know what the funny thing is? I didn’t even include emotional labor in that invoice. The listening, the supporting, the remembering birthdays, handling holidays, and maintaining our relationships with friends and family. If I had, the bill would be a lot higher.”
I pulled out my packed bag from the closet, and Thomas’s eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” His voice had lost some of its bite, a hint of uncertainty creeping in.
“I’m leaving,” I said simply. “I’ll be at Lisa’s for a few days. I’ve already talked to a lawyer about our options.”
“A lawyer?” His face went pale. “You’re going to divorce me over a few Venmo requests?”
I shook my head. “Not over the requests themselves. Over what they stand for. Over the fact that somewhere along the way, you stopped seeing us as partners and started seeing us as two separate people sharing space and resources.”
“Andrea, this is crazy. We can talk about this,” he pleaded, following me as I walked toward the door. “Maybe I went too far with the Wi – Fi thing, but—”
“The Wi – Fi was just the wake – up call, Thomas,” I said, turning to face him one last time. “It was never about the money. It was about building a life together, not just sharing an address.”
With that, I walked out the door, got into my car, and drove away. In my rearview mirror, I could see Thomas standing in our doorway, still holding the invoice, looking lost and confused.
A part of my heart ached. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Our marriage wasn’t supposed to end. But it was for the best. Our differences were too big to bridge.
I didn’t think Thomas could change. He might try to make amends for a while, but he’d go back to pinching pennies and taking all he could from me. I couldn’t let that happen… ever again.