Svetlana set her cup of coffee on the windowsill and gazed at the rain outside. The drops slid down the glass like tears she wouldn’t allow herself to shed. October was especially miserable this year: gray, damp, and depressing. Just like her life these past six months.
«Sveta, are you listening to me?» Andrey asked irritably.
She turned around. Her husband stood in the kitchen doorway, holding some papers. Behind him loomed the familiar figure of his mother. Galina Petrovna—as usual—had found a reason to drop by “for just a minute.”
«I’m listening,» Svetlana replied curtly.
«Mom’s right. It’s time for us—as adults—to start keeping separate finances. Everyone’s responsible for themselves.»
Svetlana allowed herself a barely noticeable smirk.
Adults. Sure. Especially the kind who, at thirty-five, still consults his mommy about every little thing.
«And what exactly does that look like to you?» she asked her husband, pretending to study the stack of papers in his hands.
Galina Petrovna couldn’t contain herself:
«Svetochka, dear, millions of couples live this way nowadays! Each one earns, each one spends. No complaints between anyone. Andrey gets seventy thousand a month, you get fifty. It’s only fair to split the expenses down the middle.»
«Mom thinks this would be better for our relationship,» Andrey added, avoiding Svetlana’s gaze. «Fewer reasons to argue.»
Svetlana nodded, trying to stay calm. But inside, something snapped.
She remembered three years ago, when Andrey spent six months unemployed after a layoff, and she’d handled all the expenses alone. No one suggested separate budgets back then. She remembered paying for his mother’s expensive medicine last year when her hypertension flared up. Back then, everyone was all in for a shared pot.
«Alright,» she said. «Let’s give it a try.»
Andrey had clearly expected objections and was bracing for an argument. Her calm agreement left him puzzled.
«Seriously? You mean you’re not against it?»
«Why would I be against fairness?» Svetlana took the papers from his hands and scanned them quickly. The list of expenses was split exactly down the middle—utilities, groceries, gas, internet… Everything seemed reasonable.
Galina Petrovna beamed:
«See, Andryusha! Sveta’s a smart girl—she gets it. Some wives start fussing right away: ‘But what about family, what about love?’ Nonsense! Love is one thing, money is another!»
Svetlana nodded silently, mentally adding every word from her mother-in-law to her growing list of grievances.
She kept going on about the advantages of separate finances, citing American families as examples and calling it all so «civilized.»
«One more thing,» added Andrey, encouraged by his easy win. «I’ll have dinner at Mom’s. She cooks every day anyway, and my office is right by her place. So you’ll end up spending more on groceries.»
«Makes sense,» Svetlana agreed.
When her mother-in-law left and Andrey retreated to his room to “work” (meaning play tanks online), Svetlana was left alone in the kitchen.
She slowly finished her now-cold coffee and pulled out a calculator. It was time to dive into some math.
First, she wrote down all their family expenses over the last six months. The sum was impressive: utilities, groceries, cleaning supplies, medicine, clothes, gifts for relatives, trips to the movies and cafes… Then she split it all into two columns: ‘husband’ and ‘wife’.
***
By midnight, Svetlana was finally done with the calculations. The result was even more interesting than she expected.
It turned out that Andrey really was spending less on the family. A lot less.
So, despite their supposedly equal incomes, the real spending was split about three to one—definitely not in her favor.
She got up from the table, stretched her stiff neck, and smirked.
«Alright! If it’s a separate budget he wants, then a separate budget it is. Let’s see how ready Andrey is for true financial equality.»
The next day, her husband left for work in high spirits.
By noon, his mom had called three times: to discuss these ‘new family rules’ and to praise her son for his ‘manly decision.’
The wife listened to her husband’s conversations with his mom and kept wondering: when did she stop respecting him? A month ago? Six months? Or had it been a slow process, eating away at everything like rust?
At the agency, the day went by as usual: clients, mockups, endless edits and approvals. But Svetlana worked with a new enthusiasm, as if something inside her, unused for so long, had finally switched on.
In the evening, she stopped by the supermarket and bought groceries for exactly one person: bread, milk, yogurt, oatmeal, a few vegetables. It all looked pretty sad in the cart—like a hermit’s rations. But at least they were her rations.
Andrey wasn’t home. Just as he’d promised, he stayed for dinner at his mom’s.
Svetlana ate alone, watched a TV series, and went to bed. The odd thing was, the solitude didn’t weigh her down. On the contrary, she felt a sense of inner freedom she hadn’t had in a long time.
That’s how the week went by.
Andrey consistently had dinner at Galina Petrovna’s, came home late, and was endlessly pleased with himself. Sometimes he’d brag about how delicious his mom’s cutlets or borscht were, clearly hinting that Svetlana could learn a thing or two from his mother in the kitchen. She just nodded, played along, and kept eating her modest supplies.
On the weekend, Andrey went to the country house with friends.
«Sometimes we need time apart from each other,» her husband explained, obviously repeating his mother’s advice.
Svetlana had no objections. She spent Saturday and Sunday at the computer, going over family documents and bills from the past year.
The picture was becoming clearer—and sadder.
On Monday morning, the first warning bell rang. Andrey noticed they were out of coffee.
«Sveta, could you buy some coffee? I’m running late for work.»
«Coffee isn’t on the list of shared expenses,» she replied, buttering her only piece of toast at a leisurely pace. «Everyone buys what they drink themselves.»
Her husband stayed quiet, clearly waiting for a trick or a joke. But Svetlana was completely serious.
«Alright,» he grumbled. «I’ll get it myself.»
By the middle of the second week, it was obvious the experiment was cracking. Andrei started eyeing the fridge suspiciously, noticing that his favorite treats weren’t showing up anymore. Expensive yogurts, smoked salmon, and good cheese had vanished. Instead, there were only Svetlana’s modest supplies, fitting neatly onto a single shelf.
«Where’s the sausage?» her husband asked on Thursday evening, peeking into the fridge for something to eat.
«At the store,» Svetlana replied, not looking up from her laptop.
«What do you mean?»
«I mean, if you want sausage, go buy it. I don’t eat sausage.»
And it was true. She really hadn’t bought any for weeks, preferring healthier foods these days. But before, she’d always bought some for her husband.
Andrei muttered something under his breath and slammed the fridge door. That evening, he went over to his mom’s again.
Friday arrived with the utility bills.
***
Svetlana made a point not to pay the rent immediately this time, even though she usually took care of it as soon as the invoices arrived. Instead, she waited until Andrei noticed the bills in the mailbox and carried them home like it was an important task.
«The utilities are here,» her husband announced as he came home. «Came out to about eight thousand.»
«Okay,» Svetlana nodded. «Your half is four thousand. Will you transfer it to my card or pay cash?»
Andrei froze for a moment. Apparently, in his mind, the split budget mostly affected Svetlana’s spending, never his own responsibilities.
«Uh… oh right, sure. I’ll transfer it tomorrow. My card’s a bit short right now.»
«No problem. But keep in mind, if we’re late more than a month, there’ll be a penalty.»
The next day, no money arrived. Nor the day after. By Wednesday, Andrei casually asked:
«Sveta, the internet’s acting up. Did you forget to pay for it?»
She looked up from the stack of papers she was working on at the kitchen table.
«You’re in charge of the internet. It’s down on the list of your expenses.»
«Really? Oh, right…» he obviously didn’t remember that. «Okay, I’ll pay for it tomorrow.»
But the internet bill went unpaid. So did the phone, garbage collection, and intercom.
By the end of the week, Svetlana realized her husband simply wasn’t taking the new rules seriously. In his eyes, nothing was really supposed to change—except now his wife had no right to question what he spent money on.
Saturday morning, Andrei was getting ready to watch football with his friends when he realized the car’s gas tank was nearly empty.
«Sveta, give me money for gas,» he requested, as usual.
«I don’t have any money,» his wife answered flatly.
«What do you mean, you don’t? You got your paycheck last week.»
«I did. And I spent it on my own needs—groceries, clothes, cosmetics. Gas is your expense.»
Andrei just stood there, blinking in confusion, clearly struggling to understand what was happening.
In a year and a half of living together, his wife had never once refused him money. In fact, she often gave him cash even when he didn’t ask for it: slipping bills into his jacket pocket before work, or transferring money to his card ‘just in case’.
“Are you serious?” he asked in disbelief.
“Have I ever joked about money?”
That was the truth. Svetlana always handled finances very responsibly. That’s exactly why their family had never once been in debt or missed a payment.
“But we’re husband and wife…” Andrey started to say.
“A married couple with separate budgets,” his wife reminded him. “That’s how you wanted it. Your mother thinks it’s a very modern and fair arrangement. Don’t forget that!”
Mentioning his mother worked like magic on Andrey. He couldn’t admit that his mom’s idea might have backfired, so he stayed silent and left.
That evening, Andrey came home in a bad mood. Apparently, there had been an unpleasant discussion during dinner at Galina Petrovna’s, after which she called Svetlana around nine o’clock.
“Svetochka, my dear, Andryusha says you’ve become extremely stingy. This is not right! How can you deny your husband money for gas?”
“Galina Petrovna,” Svetlana replied calmly, “the idea of separate finances came from you, remember? You yourself said that everyone should be responsible for themselves.”
“Well yes, but within reason! You can’t take things to the extreme.”
“And where is the line between reasonable and extreme? Please, explain that to me.”
Galina Petrovna clearly wasn’t expecting that question. She hesitated, muttered something about feminine wisdom and family compromise, and quickly ended the call.
But on Monday, something happened that Andrey absolutely didn’t expect.
***
Their hot water was turned off. Not in the whole building — just their apartment. Andrey discovered it that morning when he got in the shower, and immediately panicked.
“Sveta! What’s going on with the water? Why is it cold?”
“Probably turned off for non-payment,” she answered calmly while making her oatmeal.
“What do you mean, for non-payment? Weren’t you supposed to take care of it?”
“Me?” Svetlana acted surprised. “And why exactly was I supposed to pay for your half? You promised to transfer your share of the utilities two weeks ago, but you never did.”
Andrey stood there with his mouth open for a few seconds. Then he quickly grabbed his phone and started feverishly crunching numbers on the calculator. The debt was pretty high, and it was possible they really had turned off the hot water for non-payment.
“But I didn’t know it was so urgent!” he protested, getting dressed in a hurry. “You could have warned me!”
“Andrey, you’re thirty-five years old. You’re a grown man who wanted to have a separate budget. You need to keep track of your own obligations.”
Her husband rushed off to work, dirty and furious.
Meanwhile, Svetlana finished her breakfast and headed off to the gym, where she took a shower after her workout. She’d signed up for a fitness center membership last month, but hadn’t found time to use it before. Now she finally had the time—especially in the evenings, when Andrey was having dinner at his mom’s.
By evening, the hot water was back on. Apparently, her husband had borrowed money somewhere and quickly paid off the overdue bill.
But the bitterness lingered. He walked around in a gloomy mood, deep in thought all the time.
A few days later, her husband finally decided it was time for a serious talk. Svetlana was just about to head out to meet a friend when Andrey stood right in her way.
«We need to talk,» he said irritably.
«I’m listening. But make it quick. I’m expected.»
«What are you doing? This isn’t a marriage, it’s an accounting exercise! We’re supposed to be husband and wife, not business partners.»
Svetlana carefully adjusted her purse on her shoulder.
«You’re the one who wanted separate finances. You and your mother thought it would be fair. I’m just following your rules.»
«But you know that’s not what I meant!»
«And what did you mean?» she asked, genuinely curious. «Tell me, explain it to me.»
Andrey hesitated. Explaining what he actually meant would mean admitting to some dishonesty. Because, in reality, he wanted one simple thing: his wife shouldn’t control his spending, but at the same time, she should keep covering the lion’s share of household expenses and make his life comfortable.
«Well… you know what I mean,» her husband mumbled uncertainly. «Let’s just go back to how it used to be.»
«No,» Svetlana replied firmly. «I’m happy with things as they are. It’s a very honest and fair arrangement. Everyone’s responsible for themselves, just like your mom always said.»
«Oh, forget about my mom!» Andrey snapped. «This has nothing to do with her!»
«Oh, so it’s not about your mom?» Svetlana smiled, and there was something in that smile that made him feel uneasy. «Interesting. I always thought she made all our family decisions.»
He wanted to argue, but the words stuck in his throat. Because it was true, and they both knew it.
«I’m running late,» she said, heading to the door. «If you want to change something about our family arrangements, let’s talk tomorrow. Like adults, and without your mom!»
Her last words hit like a slap.
The next day, Andrey came home from work looking even gloomier. He didn’t go to his mom’s for dinner—which, in itself, was a big deal. Instead, he sat down across from Svetlana and tried to start a real conversation.
«Listen, let’s find a compromise,» he began. «I know I was wrong. Maybe we could try something in between—half joint, half separate finances? At least give it a shot!»
Svetlana watched him attentively. For the first time in a long while, her husband was talking to her as an equal, not as an accessory to his own life.
***
«Come on, let’s work this out like reasonable people!» Andrey continued, unable to hide his irritation. «At least tell me you paid the electricity bill this month?»
She smiled at him condescendingly.
«I paid,» she said, getting up from the table. «I’ll go get the paperwork now.»
She went out to the hallway and took a thick envelope from her purse, prepared in advance. Inside were stacks of documents: bank transfer prints, receipts, statements, and one special document.
«Here you go,» she handed him the envelope. «My share of this month’s utility bills. And something else, too.»
He took the envelope with a smug look. But as he pulled out the papers and started reading, the expression on his face quickly changed.
The first document was an electricity bill. The second was a detailed report of all their family expenses from the past year. The third was a notice about filing for divorce.
«What is this?» he muttered, turning pale.
«This is the result of our separate finances experiment,» Svetlana explained calmly. «A very educational outcome.»
Andrey finished looking through the calculations and raised confused eyes to her.
«Sveta, come on… Let’s go back to the way things were!» he put the papers aside and tried to take her hand. «I understand now that I was wrong. Let’s put all our money together again, like before.»
«Really?» Svetlana didn’t pull her hand away, but there wasn’t much warmth in her voice. «And you’re ready for that?»
«Of course! In fact, I’m ready to give you my salary, except for a small amount for my own pocket money. You can manage our family budget. You’re much better at it.»
Svetlana studied his face carefully. Andrey seemed sincere, even a bit scared by the thought of divorce.
«And what about your mother?» she asked. «She was the one who suggested we keep separate budgets.»
«Forget my mom!» Andrey waved his hand. «This is our family, and we should decide for ourselves. The main thing is that you handle all these… well, household things. Utilities, groceries, bills. I don’t know anything about that, you know. I’ll honestly hand over the money.»
«All your salary?» Svetlana clarified.
«Well… almost all of it!» Andrey hesitated. «There’s one thing. Mom wants to renovate the dacha, and I promised to help her. For the next year, I’ll be giving her half of my income. But it’s temporary! A year at most, maybe a little longer.»
Svetlana slowly pulled her hand away.
«Half of your income?» she repeated very quietly.
«Yeah. Thirty thousand a month. The rest is all yours. And it really is temporary, Sveta, believe me.»
«When did you start giving her half your salary?»
«A month ago,» Andrey admitted, staring at the floor. «But I thought with separate finances it wouldn’t be a problem…»
Svetlana leaned back in her chair. Suddenly, it all made sense. The whole separate finances thing, Galina Petrovna’s sudden concern about their money, her constant advice to her son…
«I see,» she said. «Now I understand why your mom set up this whole farce with separate spending.»
«What do you mean?»
«She planned to take thirty thousand from you every month. She knew I would be against it if we had a shared budget. So she came up with this scheme. ‘Let everyone spend their own money as they want!’ Don’t you get it?»
«Sveta, don’t exaggerate…»
«I’m not exaggerating!» she stood up and walked to the window. «Your mom is a very smart woman. She thought it all several steps ahead.»
«But it really is temporary!»
«Nothing is more permanent than something that’s supposed to be temporary. Ever heard that? And the saddest part,» Svetlana continued, «is that you’re willing to give me control of the budget not because you respect my abilities, but because you don’t want to take responsibility. You don’t want to think about the bills, plan the expenses, make decisions. It’s just easier for you to hand it all over to your wife.»
«But you’re better at this than I am…»
«I am,» she replied. «But I’m tired of being the only adult in this family, Andrey. I’m exhausted from making decisions for both of us and carrying all the responsibility.»
She picked up the envelope with documents from the table.
«My answer is no. I don’t want to go back to how things were. I refuse to be your second mom—solving every problem, controlling everything, and paying all the bills while you have fun and hand out money left and right.»
«Sveta, please…»
«The divorce will be finalized in a month,» she said firmly. «You have two weeks to find a place to live. You can move in with your mom—I’m sure she’ll be thrilled. She can then spend not just half your salary but all of it on fixing up the dacha.»
Andrey stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at a single spot in confusion. Svetlana felt something like pity for him. But not regret.
«This isn’t fair,» he said quietly.
«On the contrary,» Svetlana replied. «This is true fairness. You’re getting exactly what you chose—freedom from responsibility and the chance to live however your mother wants you to.»
A month later, the divorce was finalized.
Andrey really did move in with Galina Petrovna. She welcomed him with open arms—and renovation plans for not just the dacha but the city apartment, too.
Svetlana stayed in her own apartment and, for the first time in a long while, felt as if her life finally belonged to her. Justice had been served. Everyone got exactly what they deserved.
