I reckon we’re both grown-ups, I suggest moving in together, but only if we split the bills fifty-fifty, and the housework is all on you, seeing as youre the woman At that moment, a hush falls over the room. I am absolutely stunned.
Weve been dating for half a year now. Its that period when little quirks seem charming, and the future looks rosy and bright. Adam felt almost perfect to me: clever, well-off, cultured, always dressed smartly. Our weekends were spent in cosy cafes, strolling through parks, debating films, with our thoughts and tastes seemingly in sync.
But it soon became clear we were heading in different directions. I imagined a partnership of equals, while he saw it as an opportunity for hassle-free comfort.
The topic of moving in together came up over dinner, quite out of the blue. He was pouring tea when he said, Look, were both tired of traipsing from one flat to another. Renting two places is pointless. Shall we move in together? Well find a nice two-bed closer to the city centre.
I smiled Id hinted at this step for ages. But his next words made me set down my cup and look at him as if seeing him for the first time.
Lets agree on some ground rules, he continued in a no-nonsense tone, almost as if we were negotiating a business deal rather than starting a home. Were both modern people. I think our finances should be separate, and we split the shared expenses right down the middle: rent, utilities, groceries fifty-fifty.
I nodded. Equality is equality, after all.
And how are we going to divide the chores? I asked, expecting to hear fifty-fifty again.
Adam looked uncomfortable for a moment, then, with a winning grin, said, Well, natures decided that for us. Youre the woman, home-making is in your blood. Cooking, cleaning, laundry those are your responsibilities. Ill pitch in when I feel like it: take out the bins or put up a shelf if it falls. But the main work is yours. Surely you want to be the lady of your own home?
Silence descended. I stared at him, trying to piece the puzzle together.
Why pay for a cleaner when you have a loving girlfriend?
I didnt argue; instead, I decided to speak his language.
Adam, I hear you, I said calmly. Youre after financial partnership, which is fair. You want a comfortable home: tasty meals, clean shirts, spotless floors. But just like you, I work full time. I have neither the energy nor the desire to spend every evening running around after the flat.
He tensed up, but listened.
So, heres my counter-offer, I went on. If were splitting all the bills, lets do it properly. Lets hire a cleaner twice a week someone to tidy up, iron, cook meals for a few days. We split that cost as well. That way the flat stays clean, were well fed, and nobodys overwhelmed. Ill add a personal touch light some candles, pick out the curtains.
His face changed: surprise at first, then annoyance, and finally a sort of distance. I watched him calculate, realising he wasnt keen on the final figure.
Why bring a stranger into the house? he grimaced. Thats unnecessary expense. Surely its not hard to cook dinner for your boyfriend? Thats caring, not a job.
When the real value of a womans labour comes into play, everything suddenly becomes about love and vocation. Making dinner is caring. But chipping in for groceries is already the market.
Adam, I said gently, if Im making dinner after an eight-hour workday while you play games or watch telly, thats not caring its exploitation. If we decided on separate finances, everything should be split in half. Either we share the chores, or we pay someone else to do them. Im not agreeing to a set-up where I pay as much as you, but work twice as hard.
He said nothing. Dinner passed in awkward silence, and he muttered that hed have to think about it.
The next morning, there was no usual Good morning message. By evening, a curt text arrived, saying he was staying late at work. Three days later, he disappeared altogether, stopped replying to calls.
A week later, mutual friends told me: You split up because youre too money-minded and not domestic enough. Apparently, I only cared about money and wasnt prepared for family life.
At first, it hurt. Half a year of plans and hopes. Then, relief set in.
His disappearing act was the best answer to all my questions. Adam didnt want me; he wanted a convenient cosy nest with no effort required.
Adam faded out of my life and thank goodness. I hired a cleaner for myself. Now I come home to a tidy flat, make myself a cup of tea, and understand what true happiness is: not serving someone who doesnt value you.
