During the Christmas shopping rush, my husband, Mark, threw a fit. "You buy way too much stuff every time you go visit your parents!" he snapped. "I make more money than you, but you spend way more. This isn't fair. From now on, we’re splitting everything 50/50. We’re going Dutch." I didn't hesitate. "Deal." But I laid down three ground rules. "From now on, we sleep in separate rooms. You take care of your parents, I take care of mine. And if you want me to cook or clean, you have to pay a service fee." One year later, Mark—now living paycheck to paycheck—knelt before me, begging to cancel the agreement. I smiled and handed him the divorce papers. "I think it's better if we split... permanently." Chapter 1: The Calculator My husband, Mark, stared at the pile of Christmas gifts stacked against the wall, his brow furrowed. "Do you really need to buy this much for your folks?" His interrogating tone rubbed me the wrong way, but I patiently explained, "I bought two of everything. One set for my family, one set for yours." In our three years of marriage, I had never played favorites. I always treated both sides equally. But even with me being perfectly fair, Mark wasn't satisfied. He looked at me with a sneer. "I make $6,000 a month. You only take home about $4,000. Why should the stuff for your family cost the same as the stuff for mine?" "Why do we have to average out the surplus of what I earn? You earn less but spend more. Is that fair?" I felt a lump form in my throat. It was just Christmas gifts. Did he really need to make it a class war? Did we have to rank our families based on income? Seeing my silence, Mark kept going. "My mom has mentioned this a few times. I didn't care before, but looking at it now, you really are insensible about money." "So, to be fair and impartial, from now on, we split all expenses 50/50. You spend your money however you want, and I won't ask questions." I looked at Mark in disbelief. This was the man I’d slept next to for three years? It seemed he’d held a grudge about our finances for a long time. My mother-in-law had probably been poisoning his ear behind my back, too. I didn't hesitate. I agreed immediately. "Fine. 50/50 it is. But we'd better set some ground rules so there’s no confusion." Mark didn't expect me to agree so quickly. His face lit up. He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes. Clear rules are best. Otherwise, my family will feel cheated." Cheated? Over daily expenses? I calmly listed the details. "Starting today, we sleep in separate rooms. Rent and utilities are split down the middle. You are responsible for your parents, I am responsible for mine." "You wash your own boxers and socks; I’m done doing them. If you need me to do laundry or cook, you have to pay me a separate service fee." "If I cook, the standard is $20 per person per meal. If I do all the housekeeping, you need to pay me $1,500 a month." I threw out a few numbers, and Mark jumped up. "Fifteen hundred?! For a little housework?" I leaned back on the sofa and gave him a cool look. "If you hire a maid, it’s at least $2,500 a month. You’re free to choose. I can keep my own room clean; I won't touch the rest of the house." "If you want to save money, that's fine. You can wash the dishes, sweep, and mop every day, and dust the furniture once a week..." Before I could finish, Mark interrupted impatiently. "Fine! I'll pay! Happy now?" I smirked. If I didn't make him bleed a little cash, he’d really think I was free labor. I pointed to the wall. "I bought those gifts with my salary. You need to go buy your own gifts for your side of the family." Chapter 2: The Empty-Handed Visit On Christmas Eve, we showed up at my in-laws' house empty-handed. Mark walked in and immediately sat on the couch to scroll through TikTok. I did the exact same thing. My mother-in-law’s face dropped instantly. "You two are getting ruder by the day. Coming home for Christmas without a single gift? Do you think you’re a princess?" In the past, I would have taken over the kitchen immediately. I would have bought the groceries early in the morning, cooked the entire feast, while the three of them sat and waited to be served. Now, the kitchen was cold and empty. Were they still counting on me? My father-in-law, who had a short temper, started shouting. "Sarah! Look at you! What kind of daughter-in-law acts like this? You don't even know basic manners anymore?" "We thought you were decent before, but I guess you were just faking it. Now you won't even keep up appearances?" Watching them jump around in anger actually made me feel great. I used to give them my heart and soul, and I never got a 'thank you.' Instead, my mother-in-law would nitpick everything I bought. "These gifts aren't practical. You don't know how to run a household! Mark works so hard for his money, seeing you spend it like water hurts my heart!" "Look at this dust. You clean worse than a cheap maid. I don't know what Mark saw in you." See? If I do it, I get criticized. So, I might as well do nothing. When they ran out of insults, I spoke up calmly. "Mom, Dad, don't look at me. Mark proposed we live a 50/50 lifestyle. We agreed: whoever's parents they are, that person takes care of them. Gifts included." "We also agreed that my labor isn't free. So, for tonight's Christmas dinner, how much is your family planning to invest?" Last year, to ensure my parents had a good holiday, I booked a table at a five-star hotel. It was supposed to be a happy joint family gathering. But my in-laws ruined it. They spent the whole meal bragging about how capable their son was, hinting that I was mooching off Mark. They called me wasteful for booking such an expensive dinner. My mom had fought to pay the bill ages ago—they didn't need to be so dramatic. The most annoying part was the pressure to have kids. "Sarah, you make so little money and work so much overtime. Is it worth it? This family relies on Mark anyway." "Since you don't earn much, you should just focus on your health, have a baby, and stay home to serve the boys." They looked down on me because my salary was lower than Mark's. I have hands, I have feet, and I like my job. Why should I sacrifice that? What made it worse was Mark's attitude. He agreed with them! "Yeah, I cover the mortgage and most of the bills. Does your job really matter?" He made a decent salary, but he acted like he was Elon Musk. Hearing that I wanted to charge for cooking Christmas dinner, my in-laws exploded. My mother-in-law, specifically, started spitting venom. Mark, looking embarrassed, whispered to me, "Just cook first. I'll give you the money later. Do we have to make everyone miserable today?" I sat on the sofa, unmoved. "We have a deal. Payment first, then work. No credit." My mother-in-law was about to scream, but my cold glare stopped her. "You guys always say I spend too much. Why don't you go to the market and see how much holiday groceries actually cost?" "Since we're going 50/50, you should pay for the ingredients, too." You care about saving face? Let's see how long you can keep it up. Chapter 3: The Expensive Grocery Run Usually, Mark’s grandparents, his uncle, and his uncle's whole family would come over for Christmas dinner. I deliberately didn't mention buying groceries today. I was waiting for this moment of chaos. Otherwise, they’d just sit there and enjoy the fruits of my labor. My mother-in-law shrieked. "There are ten people coming to eat! How much will that cost?! It's already afternoon; the markets are closing!" Panicked? Good. I shrugged. "I thought Mark told you. We're splitting finances. House matters on this side aren't my problem." I’d never seen parents like this—just waiting comfortably for their kids to serve them. Whenever we visited, they prepared nothing. Meanwhile, my parents would cook a feast of my favorite dishes and send me home with bags of leftovers. The contrast was chilling. My mother-in-law was pacing like a cat on a hot tin roof. I just played Candy Crush. If I hadn't seen Mark’s texts to his mom two days ago, I might not have been this cruel. Mark: [Mom, done! Sarah and I are totally separate now. No more worrying about her wasting my money!] MIL: [Oh, finally! I told you that woman was just after your cash. She was probably secretly buying expensive stuff for her parents behind your back!] Mark: [Exactly. Thanks for the heads up, Mom. I didn't realize how much she was taking advantage of me!] MIL: [With her salary? Why should her family get the same gifts as ours? They don't deserve it!] Reading those texts made my blood boil. It was time to prep dinner, and there wasn't even a head of lettuce in the house. Mark couldn't take it anymore. He dragged me out the door. The regular markets were empty. We had to go to Whole Foods—the only place still open. I didn't care. I grabbed whatever I wanted and threw it in the cart. King crab, organic ribeye, imported cheeses. Every time I tossed something in, Mark’s face got paler. "Do we need this much? This is too expensive! Can't we get cheaper cuts?" Oh, now that it's your money, it hurts? In previous years, I spent over a thousand dollars just on groceries, not counting the imported fruit. Who felt sorry for me then? I stopped the cart and looked at him. "Dinner for ten people. Do you want to serve them hot dogs and beans? I don't care. It’s not my reputation on the line." Whole Foods isn't cheap. Two organic cucumbers cost ten bucks. When I used to buy lobster and grouper, they never complained about the price. My father-in-law even called me stingy for not buying enough. Mark gritted his teeth and let me shop. At the checkout, I grabbed a pack of holiday money envelopes. "Don't forget the cash gifts for your parents and grandparents. I usually give $500 per person." "Oh, and for your cousin’s kid? I usually give $100. You figure it out." Mark looked like he was attending his own funeral. Chapter 4: The Service Fee On the drive back, I told him the cooking fee was $100. Mark’s hand jerked, swerving the car. I said calmly, "Hiring a private chef for a holiday meal is usually $300 minimum. I'm giving you the family discount." Mark was stuck. Everyone knew his mom’s cooking was hazardous to human health. He gritted his teeth and Venmo’d me $100. I accepted the transfer and went to cook. After dinner, the whole family moved to the living room to watch the football game. I started to follow them, but Mark grabbed me. "Dishwashing is $15 a load. I'll transfer it now!" I stopped his hand. "$15 is the price for two people on a Tuesday. Look at this mess. Pots, pans, plates for ten people." "$50. Or do it yourself." Mark turned purple. He hissed at me in the corner. "Sarah! All you care about is money now? You're a daughter-in-law of this family. Shouldn't you do chores?" Oh, now I'm family when there's scrubbing to do? I glanced at him. "You proposed the 50/50 split. You agreed to keep things clear. What, can't handle it?" "Why do you have to be so petty?" he argued. "It's just dishes!" "It's your house," I shot back. "Why don't you do it? Do I owe you labor?" I wasn't going to be stupid anymore. Mark took home $6,000. His mortgage (his pre-marital asset) was $2,000. He gave me $500 for household expenses and kept the remaining $3,500. I paid for utilities, internet, groceries, cooking, and cleaning. I subsidized both sets of parents. I bought the gifts. When you did the math, I was funding his lifestyle while he built equity. And they still thought I was the leech? Mark didn't want to lose face in front of his relatives, so he resentfully transferred the $50. Halfway through the game, the grandparents were getting tired. My mother-in-law shot me a look. "Sarah, everyone's leaving. Get the gifts!" Mark’s cousin’s kid ran over, hands out. "Auntie Sarah, where's my Christmas money?" Looking at their expectant faces, I realized how idiotic I had been in the past. I used to curate gifts for everyone. I spent thousands. And I got labeled "wasteful." Let them spend their own money. I patted the kid's head. "From now on, Uncle Mark is in charge of gifts and money. Go ask him."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "388929", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel