Chapter 4

Sophie, totally enjoying the drama, jumped in, "Emily's got a point. These days, hiring a maid costs two grand a month. Your wife cooks, does laundry, and cleans up after you. Charging you 2,000 dollars makes perfect sense."

"That's not the same," David argued, turning to Sophie. "She's my wife, not my maid."

"Then why are you splitting the bills with your wife?" Sophie shot back. "If you're married, why do you have to be so petty about money?"

David was completely at a loss for words.

I looked at him and couldn't help but laugh at how absurd this was. "David, do you honestly think going Dutch means you get all the perks while I get screwed over?

"You pay 2,700 dollars for the mortgage, I cover 1,000 dollars for living expenses, and you still walk away with 4,000 dollars in your pocket every month?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, really?" I pulled out my calculator. "You make 6,000 dollars a month, pay the mortgage and still have 3,300 left. I make 4,000, send 1,000 to my parents, pay 1,000 for living expenses, and I'm left with 2,000.

"If neither of us lifts a finger around the house, you're still saving 2,000 dollars more than me. How is that fair?"

David's face looked even worse.

"And another thing," I pressed on. "Have you ever thought about all the stuff I have to pay for to look good? Makeup, skincare, and clothes. None of that comes cheap.

"I keep myself pretty so you can brag about having a gorgeous wife, so who's footing the bill for that?"

"That's your problem."

"My problem?" I laughed. "If I stopped wearing makeup, stopped taking care of myself, let my hair get messy, and let my skin go dull, would you still want to be with me? Would you still want to take me out and show me off?"

David was speechless.

"And there's more," I said, pulling out my phone. "I checked, and having a baby these days, from pregnancy to delivery, costs at least 33,000 dollars. According to your logic, are we supposed to split that too?"

"That's our child."

"Yeah, it's our kid." I nodded. "But I'm the one going to all the checkups, putting up with ten months of pregnancy hell, and risking my life to give birth.

"If we go by market rates, surrogacy costs at least 160,000 dollars. Should I send you a bill for that?"

David was left speechless.

Sophie clapped from the side. "Emily, you're amazing. You totally shut him up."

I looked at David, and my feelings were all over the place.

Once, I thought this man would spend the rest of his life with me.

But this whole splitting-the-bill drama showed me his true colors.

In his eyes, I was a free maid and a baby-making machine.

He thought he was a big deal because he paid the mortgage and left everything else to me.

What kind of husband was that?

"David," I stood up and walked right over to him. "I'm asking you one last time. Are you really sticking with this 50/50 deal?"

He looked at me, opened his mouth, but couldn't get a word out.

"If you want to go through with it, then we're doing it my way. Every dollar for rent, chores, and living costs gets counted. Not a penny less. If not, then tear up this agreement and let's start over."I gave him a choice.

Even though I was already completely disillusioned with this marriage, we were still husband and wife. If we could avoid splitting up, I'd rather not get divorced.

David stayed silent for a long time.

Just when I thought he was about to rip up the agreement, he suddenly blurted out, "It's 2,000 dollars, right? I'll pay you."

I was stunned for a second.

"But," he continued, "if you're making me pay for housework, then you better make sure everything's done right.

"Three meals a day, on time. The place has to be spotless. Laundry has to be perfectly clean. If you mess up, I'm taking it out of your pay."

I looked at him, and suddenly, he felt like a stranger to me.

Was this really the same David who spent two years trying to win my heart, swearing he'd love me forever?

"Okay," I nodded. "If you want to treat this like a job, then let's sign a real contract."

I pulled out my phone and started typing: [Domestic Service Agreement. David Carter hires Emily Brooks to handle cooking, cleaning, and laundry. David pays Emily 2,000 dollars a month.

[Terms: Emily can say no to anything outside the agreed duties. David can't randomly add extra chores. Emily gets one day off every week, and holiday overtime is paid triple.]

I sent the contract to him. "Sign it. Once you do, it's official."

David stared at his phone, his face turning sour. "Emily, are you really going to be this petty with me?"

"You're the one who started keeping score," I said calmly. "If we're going to do this, let's make it crystal clear. You thought going 50/50 meant you could get away with everything? Think again."

David stared at me for a long time, then suddenly turned and walked away. "I'm done with you, you crazy woman."

He reached the door, then turned back and said, "Emily, you wait. I'll make you regret this."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at the closed door, and for the first time in a long while, I actually felt a weight lift off my chest.

Maybe this was for the best. At least I wouldn't have to see his phony face anymore.

After David left, I actually felt a sense of relief.

"Emily, are you really done with him?" Sophie asked, sounding worried. "You're married, you know. Divorce is such a hassle."

"Hassle?" I said, packing up my stuff. "The sooner I get divorced, the sooner I'll be free."

But even as I said it, I couldn't help feeling a little messed up inside.

Five years together, and like that, it all fell apart. No one walks away from something like that without feeling torn up.

But once I saw the truth, there was no way to go back.

David's 50/50 deal was like holding up a mirror. It showed me exactly what he really thought.

To him, I was nothing but a tool. I should pay the bills, do the chores, and give my body, and I wasn't even allowed to complain.

Seriously, what was the point of keeping a guy like that around?

I pulled out my phone and texted my lawyer friend: [Can you draft a divorce agreement for me?]