Are you kidding me?! I work two jobs, and I’m the one who has to pay for your freeloaders! — I shouted.

Jenny sank wearily onto the couch, massaging her temples after a long workday. First eight hours at the office, then another four doing part-time bookkeeping for a businessman she knew. It had been like this for three years straight. The apartment was quiet, with only the refrigerator humming monotonously in the kitchen.

The front door slammed — Sean was back. Jenny didn’t even lift her head, continuing to rub her temples. Her husband went to the kitchen; dishes clattered.

— Jen, will you have dinner? — Sean called from the kitchen.

— I have no appetite, — Jenny answered without opening her eyes.

They had been married seven years. Seven years that began with hopes and promises and turned into an endless string of quarrels and half-truths. Jenny remembered their wedding — how happy they were then. Sean had sworn he would be her rock and protector. Where were those vows now?

The apartment had come to Jenny from her grandmother before the marriage. Two rooms, in a good neighborhood, overlooking a park. Jenny guarded that home like the apple of her eye — her one true support in life. The insurance company paid steadily, but not generously. That’s why she had to work evenings on top of it.

Sean came into the room with a plate of pasta.

— Worked late again? — he asked, settling into the armchair opposite her.

— What else can I do? You know we’re saving up for renovations, and I’d like a proper vacation too, not at your mother’s dacha.

Sean winced at the mention of his mother. Nancy Renner was a topic unto herself. His mother-in-law showed up at their place with enviable regularity, always with complaints about her health and poverty. And those visits always ended the same way — Sean gave her money.

— By the way, Mom’s coming tomorrow, — Sean tossed out casually.

Jenny’s eyes flew open.

— Again? She was here two weeks ago!

— What can I do? Her blood pressure’s acting up; she wants to see a doctor.

— She can see a doctor in her own town, — Jenny muttered.

Sean set the plate aside irritably.

— Jenny, she’s my mother! Is it really so hard to show a little understanding?

Understanding. Jenny smiled bitterly. In seven years of marriage Sean had changed jobs five times. Either the boss was an idiot, or the team wasn’t right, or the salary was too small. Now he worked as a manager at a car dealership, but he’d already started complaining there too.

Sean’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and stepped into the hallway. Jenny listened — it was Irene’s voice, his sister. Another whole story. Thirty-two, two kids by different fathers, constant debts and loans. And there was always one solenution — call her brother.

Sean came back looking guilty. Jenny understood at once.

— How much? — she asked tiredly.

— Jen, come on… Irene’s in a tough spot. The kids are getting ready for school, and her ex is late with child support.

— How much, Sean?

— Twenty thousand. But Irene promised to pay it back in a month!

Jenny jumped up from the couch. Her hands shook with anger.

— In a month? Like last time? And the time before that? Sean, how long is this going to go on?

— Jenny, calm down. She’s family!

— Family? — Jenny’s voice cracked. — And what am I? I’m working two jobs, counting every penny, and your sister gets to not work and live at our expense?

— Irene does work! — Sean tried to defend his sister.

— Where? At what job? Half-time as a sales clerk — that’s a job? Sean, Irene has two good hands and two good legs; let her go earn her keep!

Sean frowned.

— You don’t understand. Irene has kids…

— Half the country has kids! Does that mean everyone should live off someone else?

At that moment Jenny remembered last month. Sean had also “lent” fifteen thousand to his sister then. And before that — ten to his mother. Jenny started calculating in her head — over the past year her husband’s relatives had “borrowed” more than two hundred thousand. Not a single kopeck had been returned.

The next day, just as Sean had promised, Nancy Renner arrived. For someone with blood-pressure issues, she looked quite sprightly. Rosy-cheeked, in a new dress, with a professional blowout.

— Jen, you’ve lost so much weight! — Nancy Renner noted right off. — You don’t take care of yourself at all!

Jenny held her tongue, setting the table. Her mother-in-law settled in comfortably and launched into her usual complaints:

— Oh, life has gotten so hard! Prices are rising, the pension is tiny. I’m thinking maybe I should find a little side job…

Sean chimed in immediately:

— Mom, what kind of side job at your age! We’ll help!

Jenny set the kettle down on the table with a bang. Nancy Renner and Sean looked at the hostess in surprise.

— Help with what, Sean? — Jenny asked coldly. — We barely have enough money ourselves.

— Jenny! — her husband protested.

— What “Jenny”? Nancy Renner, I’m sorry, but we’re barely making ends meet. I’m working two jobs just to put something aside.

Her mother-in-law pressed her lips together.

— In our day, women respected their husbands and put family first!

— In your day, men provided for their families, — Jenny shot back. — They didn’t sit on their wives’ necks!

Sean flushed crimson.

— Jenny, who do you think you are?

— I’m telling the truth! Sean, in the past year you’ve changed jobs three times! And each time by your own choice!

— That’s not true! — he began to defend himself.

— Oh right, sorry. The last time you were fired for skipping work!

Nancy Renner threw up her hands.

— Sean, what is she saying?

— Mom, Jenny is exaggerating…

— Exaggerating? — Jenny pulled a folder of receipts from the cupboard. — Here are the bills for the last six months. All paid from my card. Here’s a statement from our joint account — over the year Sean has deposited forty thousand. Forty! In an entire year!

Her mother-in-law was silent, staring at the paperwork. Then she raised her eyes to her daughter-in-law:

— But Sean helps around the house…

Jenny laughed — sharp and bitter.

— Helps? Nancy Renner, when was the last time your son cooked dinner? Did the laundry? Cleaned?

That evening, after her mother-in-law left, a heavy silence settled over the apartment. Sean sat in the armchair, staring at the TV. Jenny cleared the table, trying not to look at her husband.

— Why did you have to say all that in front of my mother? — Sean finally asked.

— And why does your mother meddle in our life? — Jenny answered with a question of her own.

— Jenny, I get that you’re tired. But you can’t…

— Can’t what? Tell the truth? Sean, I can’t take it anymore! Every month it’s the same — your mother needs something, your sister needs something!…
Continued in the comments

 

 

Jenny sank onto the sofa, massaging her temples after a long workday. First eight hours at the office, then another four—moonlighting as an accountant for an acquaintance’s small business. It had been like this for three years straight. The apartment was quiet; only the refrigerator hummed monotonously in the kitchen.

The front door slammed—Sean was back. Jenny didn’t even raise her head, continuing to rub her temples. Her husband walked into the kitchen and clattered the dishes.

“Jen, are you going to have dinner?” Sean called from the kitchen.

“No appetite,” Jenny answered without opening her eyes.

They had been married for seven years. Seven years that had begun with hopes and promises and turned into an endless string of arguments and unspoken grievances. Jenny remembered their wedding—how happy they had been then. Sean had sworn he would be her rock and protector. Where were those vows now?

The apartment had come to Jenny from her grandmother even before the wedding. Two rooms, a good neighborhood, a view of the park. Jenny guarded this home like the apple of her eye—the one real anchor in her life. At the insurance company the pay was steady but not generous. That was why she had to work evenings as well.

Sean came into the room with a plate of pasta.

“Worked late again?” he asked, settling into the armchair opposite her.

“What else can I do? You know we’re saving for renovations, and I’d like a proper vacation—not at your mother’s dacha.”

Sean winced at the mention of his mother. Nina Ivanovna—another story entirely. Her mother-in-law showed up at their place with enviable regularity, always with complaints about her health and poverty. And those visits always ended the same way—Sean gave his mother money.

“By the way, Mom’s coming tomorrow,” Sean tossed out, as if in passing.

Jenny’s eyes flew open.
“Again? She was here two weeks ago!”

“What can I do? Her blood pressure’s acting up; she wants to see a doctor.”

“She can see a doctor in her own town,” Jenny muttered.

Sean set his plate aside in irritation.
“Jenny, that’s my mother! Is it really so hard to show a little understanding?”

Understanding. Jenny gave a bitter smile. In seven years of marriage, Sean had changed jobs five times. Either the boss was an idiot, or the team wasn’t right, or the salary was too small. Now he worked as a manager at a car dealership, but even there he had already started complaining.

Sean’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and stepped into the hallway. Jenny listened—it was Irene, her husband’s sister. That was another story, too. Thirty-two, two children by different fathers, constant debts and loans. And always one solution—a call to her brother.

Sean came back into the room looking guilty. Jenny understood at once.

“How much?” she asked wearily.

“Jenny, why do you— Irene’s in a tough spot. The kids are getting ready for school, and her ex is late with alimony.”

“How much, Sean?”

“Twenty thousand. But Irene promised to return it in a month!”

Jenny sprang up from the sofa. Her hands trembled with anger.
“In a month? Like last time? And the time before that? Sean, how much longer!”

“Jenny, calm down. It’s family!”

“Family?” Jenny’s voice broke. “And what am I? I work two jobs, pinch every penny, and your sister gets to sit around and live at our expense?”

“Irene works!” Sean tried to defend his sister.

“Where? Doing what? Half-time as a sales clerk—is that work? Sean, Irene has two healthy hands and feet. Let her go earn a living!”

Sean scowled.
“You don’t understand. Irene has children…”

“Half the country has children! Should everyone live at someone else’s expense?”

Just then Jenny remembered last month. That time Sean had also “lent” fifteen thousand to his sister. And before that—ten to his mother. Jenny started doing the math in her head—over the past year his relatives had “borrowed” more than two hundred thousand. Not a kopeck had been returned.

The next day, just as Sean had promised, Nina Ivanovna arrived. For someone with high blood pressure, she looked rather spry—rosy-cheeked, in a new dress, with a professional blowout.

“Jen, you’ve lost so much weight!” were her first words. “You don’t take care of yourself at all!”

Jenny kept silent as she set the table. Her mother-in-law settled in comfortably and began her usual litany:

“Oh, life’s so hard now! Prices keep rising, my pension is tiny. I’m even thinking of finding a little side job…”

Sean jumped right in.
“Mom, what side job at your age! We’ll help!”

Jenny banged the kettle down on the table. Nina Ivanovna and Sean looked at her in surprise.

“With what will we help, Sean?” Jenny asked coldly. “We barely have enough ourselves.”

“Jenny!” her husband protested.

“What ‘Jenny’? Nina Ivanovna, I’m sorry, but we can barely make ends meet. I work two jobs just to put a little aside.”

Her mother-in-law pursed her lips.
“In our day, women respected their husbands and put family first!”

“In your day, men supported their families,” Jenny shot back. “They didn’t live off their wives!”

Sean flushed crimson.
“Jenny, watch your tone!”

“I’m telling the truth! Sean, you changed jobs three times this past year! And each time by your own choice!”

“That’s not true!” he began to justify himself.

“Oh right, sorry. The last time you were fired for skipping work!”

Nina Ivanovna threw up her hands.
“What is she saying?”

“Mom, Jenny is exaggerating…”

“Exaggerating?” Jenny took a folder of receipts from the cabinet. “Here are the bills for the last six months. All paid from my card. Here’s the statement from our joint account—over the past year, Sean deposited forty thousand. Forty! In a year!”

Her mother-in-law was silent, staring at the paperwork. Then she looked up at her daughter-in-law.
“But Sean helps around the house…”

Jenny laughed—sharp and bitter.
“Helps? Nina Ivanovna, when was the last time your son cooked dinner? Did the laundry? Cleaned?”

That evening, after her mother-in-law left, a heavy silence fell over the apartment. Sean sat in an armchair, staring at the TV. Jenny cleared the table, trying not to look at her husband.

“Why did you have to talk like that in front of my mother?” Sean asked at last.

“And why does your mother meddle in our life?” Jenny answered with a question.

“Jenny, I get that you’re tired. But you can’t—”

“Can’t what? Tell the truth? Sean, I can’t take it anymore! Every month it’s the same—either your mother needs something, or your sister!”

Sean stood and came over to his wife.
“Jenny, this is temporary. I’ll find a proper job…”

“When? When will you find this proper job? And how long will you keep it? A month? Two?”

Hurt flickered in his eyes.
“You don’t believe in me at all?”

Jenny sank into a chair.
“I’m tired of believing, Sean. Tired of hoping. Tired of carrying everything on my back.”

That night Jenny couldn’t sleep. She lay there staring at the ceiling, thinking about her life. Thirty-two years old. Seven of them married. What next? Another seven years working for two? For three, counting the constant ‘loans’ to her husband’s relatives?

In the morning Jenny woke up with a firm decision. Over breakfast she said to her husband:

“Sean, we need to have a serious talk.”

He looked at her warily.
“About what?”

“About money. About your family. About us.”

Jenny pulled out a sheet of paper where she had written down all the “debts” owed by his relatives the night before.

“Look. Over the last two years your mother has ‘borrowed’ a hundred and twenty thousand. Irene—one hundred and eighty. Total—three hundred thousand. Three hundred thousand, Sean! That’s a huge amount!”

Sean studied the list, frowning deeper and deeper.
“Where did you get these numbers?”

“I keep records. I write down every penny. Do you know how much has been returned? Zero!”

“Jenny, relatives have tough situations sometimes…”

“Everyone does! But why should I be the one paying for them? Why is it that my parents feel embarrassed to call for help, while yours demand money as if it’s their right?”

Sean was silent. Jenny went on:

“I’ve made a decision. No more—not a single kopeck for your family. If you take money from our budget again without my consent, I’m filing for divorce.”

He went pale.
“You… you’re joking?”

“I’ve never been more serious. Sean, I love you. But I refuse to live as a cash cow for your family any longer.”

Sean jumped up from the table.
“So it’s an ultimatum?”

“Call it what you want. But I won’t tolerate this anymore.”

He left the kitchen, slamming the front door. Jenny remained sitting, gazing out the window. It had started to rain.

An hour later Irene called. Jenny didn’t pick up. Then Nina Ivanovna called. Ignore. In the evening Sean returned—angry and drunk.

“Happy now?” he threw from the doorway. “Mom’s in the hospital, my sister’s hysterical!”

“That’s their problem,” Jenny replied calmly.

“You… you’re just selfish!”

“Maybe. But I’m a selfish person with my own money.”

Sean stepped right up to her.
“You think I can’t manage without you? Think you’re irreplaceable?”

Jenny met his gaze.
“Try. The apartment is mine, in case you forgot.”

The following days passed in a “cold war.” Sean ostentatiously refused to speak to his wife and slept on the sofa. His relatives called several times a day, but Jenny didn’t answer.

On Friday evening, Jenny came home to find Nina Ivanovna and Irene in the apartment. The women were sitting in the kitchen; Sean stood by the window.

“What an interesting gathering,” Jenny noted. “Do you often get together in my apartment without an invitation?”

“Jenny, we came to talk,” Nina Ivanovna began.

“I’m listening.”

“You’re destroying the family!” Irene blurted out. “Over some money!”

Jenny laughed.
“Over ‘some’? Irene, in two years you’ve pulled almost two hundred thousand out of our budget! Those are my ‘some’ money!”

“But I’ll pay it back!”

“When? Name a date!”

Irene hesitated.
“Well… when I can…”

“Which means never. Irene, you’re thirty-two! Go get a job!”

“I have kids!”

“So what? Millions of women raise children and work! You’re the one sitting on your brother’s neck. Or rather, on mine!”

Nina Ivanovna stood up.
“How dare you talk like that! We are Sean’s family!”

“And I’m Sean’s wife!” Jenny stood up as well. “And I will no longer support healthy, able-bodied adults!”

“Seryozha, say something!” his mother appealed to him.

Sean was silent, looking out the window. Finally he turned around.
“Mom, Irene, go home. Jenny and I need to talk.”

When the relatives left, Sean sat down across from his wife.
“Jenny, maybe you’re right. But they’re my family. I can’t abandon them.”

“I’m not asking you to abandon them. I’m asking you not to spend MY money on THEIR whims.”

“But I don’t have any money of my own!”

“Exactly. Sean, find a proper job, hold onto it, earn your own money—and help them as much as you like!”

He lowered his head.
“You’re making me choose—between you and my family.”

“No. I’m giving you a choice—either you become a real man and the head of this family, or we part ways.”

That night Jenny sat by the window, looking at the sleeping city. There was a strange emptiness inside her. No pain, no resentment—just emptiness. As if something important had ended.

In the morning Sean packed his things.
“I’ll stay with my mother for now,” he said. “I need to think.”

Jenny nodded. She no longer had the strength to argue, to persuade, to explain.

When the door closed behind her husband, Jenny felt… relief. For the first time in many months. As if a heavy stone had fallen from her shoulders.

That evening Jenny sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Silence. No one was calling, asking for money, throwing tantrums. Only silence and peace.

Jenny understood there was a difficult conversation ahead, possibly a divorce. But right now, in this moment, she felt free. Free from other people’s debts, problems, and manipulations.

One thing she knew for sure—whatever Sean decided, Jenny would never again allow her life to be turned into a wallet for other people’s needs. Enough. It was time to live for herself.

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