Andrej slammed the bank statement down on the kitchen table. The paper slid across the waxed tablecloth, knocked over the salt shaker, and came to a stop next to my coffee cup. A hot drop splashed onto my wrist.I flinched.“Excuse me?” I asked quietly.
“Exactly what you heard. I’m done, Dasa. I pay the mortgage. I pay the utilities. I fill the tank. And you?” — He spread his arms. — “You spend your money on yogurt, pillows, creams. I’ve calculated it. I cover eighty percent of the family expenses. I’m practically supporting you.”
I slowly set the cup down.The smell of toast filled the kitchen. I had woken up at six to make him breakfast before work. Andrej had already eaten half of it.For free.“You’re supporting me?” I asked.“Well, what should I call it? The apartment is mine. That makes me the owner.
You live here comfortably. From now on, separate finances. Your own food, cleaning supplies, everything. I’ll only pay for what I need.”I wiped the coffee stain.“Fine,” I said calmly. “Separate it is.”Andrej smiled with satisfaction. He thought he had won.He didn’t yet realize he had just started a war.
A silent war.By Tuesday evening, Andrej had already drawn in a deep breath at the door.He felt nothing.The apartment was cold. The kitchen empty.“Dasa! Where’s dinner?”“At the store,” I called from the living room. I was reading a book and breaking a bar of expensive chocolate for my tea.
“What do you mean?”“Literally. Separate finances. I bought it for myself. I made baked dorado. One portion. I didn’t want to infringe on your financial boundaries.”In the fridge, there was only a single frozen “Student” meatball.Andrej slammed the door.
“Seriously? You’re playing games with food?”“I’m not playing. I’m keeping an agreement.”Half an hour later, the smell of boiled pasta and cheap ground meat filled the air. The spoon clinked loudly against the plate.I didn’t go out.On Wednesday, he halted mid-step in the bathroom.
“Dasa! Where’s the shower gel?”“It ran out! The new four-hundred one isn’t in your budget.”On the shelf lay a single bar of laundry soap.That evening, he brought home the cheapest laundry powder and a roll of gray toilet paper.The next day, he had an important meeting.
His white shirt turned gray. Stiff. The stain remained. A strong chemical smell surrounded him.“You didn’t iron it?”“The iron uses electricity. That’s your expense.”On Thursday, Mars joined the conflict.The sphinx cat only ate special pâté.
“Two hundred? —” Andrej raised an eyebrow. “We’ll manage without it.”He bought cheap food.Mars ate it.An hour later, Mars vomited on Andrej’s favorite rug.“Who’s going to clean this up?!”“You fed him.”On Friday, Andrej got money. He bought beer, discounted shrimp, and sat down to watch the game.
At night, he woke up with a toothache.“Dasa… do you have any painkillers?”“I do.”“Please give me some.”“One hundred rubles.”On Saturday, relatives came over.Andrej was out of money. He bought a skinny chicken and the cheapest pasta. He cooked it without spices.
Burnt on the outside. Raw on the inside.On the table sat blackened chicken and gray pasta.That’s when I brought in my own lunch.Marbled beef steak with cranberry sauce. Fresh salad. A glass of red wine.“‘I support you’ —” I said calmly. “This is his plate. This is mine.”
I took out the expense notebook.Over five years, I had spent almost twice as much on the household as he had on the mortgage.Silence.His mother looked at Andrej.“You… support her?”The guests left.It was just the two of us.Andrej wiped his eyes.
“I was foolish, Dasa. I had no idea how much life costs.”He set his bank card in front of me.“I don’t want to live separately. I want the house to smell good. And I don’t want you to see me as an enemy.”I looked at him.“Fine. But I have conditions.”“Anything.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll go shopping together. You’ll check every price. You’ll know how much the cat’s pâté costs… and your favorite dumplings.”“Agreed.”“And you’ll learn to cook. At least eggs. And meat.”He smiled.“Can I… have a bite of your steak?”
I sighed. Cut off half.“Eat up, breadwinner. You’ll need the strength. Tomorrow is deep cleaning. You’ll pay for the cleaning supplies.”Mars crawled out from under the table and meowed insistently.“Sorry, old man. I’ll buy the proper pâté after payday.”
Mars purred.It seemed peace had been restored.Still, I didn’t put the expense notebook away.Better safe than sorry.