We split everything down the middle—rent, utilities, groceries. But two weeks ago, over dinner, he dropped a bombshell that left me stunned. We were sitting at our wobbly kitchen table, eating pasta and drinking wine like it was any other Tuesday.
I was venting about my day while he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone when, out of nowhere, he said it. “I think you should start covering all the bills.”
I froze, my fork suspended mid-air. “Excuse me?”
He looked up casually, as if he hadn’t just turned my world upside down.
“The bills. Rent, utilities, groceries. All of it.
I think you should handle it.”
At first, I genuinely thought he was joking. But then he smiled—that smug, self-satisfied smile he uses when he thinks he’s being clever—and leaned back in his chair. “Why on earth would I do that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
Jake’s grin widened, like he had been waiting for this moment. “I’ve been thinking about our future. A house, a nice car, maybe even kids someday.
I want to start saving seriously, but it’s hard when I’m splitting everything with you. If you cover the day-to-day stuff, I can put my paycheck straight into our savings account. For us.”
His tone was so casual, as if he was offering to grab milk on his way home—not asking me to overhaul my entire financial life.
I stared at him, struggling to process what he was actually saying. “Jake,” I said slowly, “do you realize how much I already do? I handle the cleaning, the cooking, the errands—”
“Because you’re better at it,” he cut in with a shrug.
“You’ve always said you don’t mind.”
“Not the point,” I fired back. “You’re asking me to take on all the expenses, on top of everything else. Do you have any idea how unfair that is?”
His expression darkened just briefly before the smirk returned.
“It’s not unfair. It’s smart. We’re building a future together, babe.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, I swallowed my anger and said, “Let me think about it.”
But the questions were already spiraling in my mind: Was this selfishness? Entitlement? Or something else entirely?
Something was off, and I was determined to figure out what. A few days after Jake’s bizarre request, my phone rang during my lunch break. The number was unlisted—usually spam—but something nudged me to answer.
“Hello?” I said cautiously. “Is this Jake’s wife?” The voice on the other end was light and almost cheerful. “Who’s asking?” I replied, my stomach tightening.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself,” she said mockingly. “I’m Anna. Jake’s girlfriend.”
The world tilted.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she continued breezily, as if she hadn’t just detonated my entire reality. “Look, I don’t have time for drama, okay? Jake promised he’d get us a downtown apartment, but he said he can’t because you’re spending all his money.”
I gripped the edge of my desk, knuckles turning white.
“I’m spending his—what are you talking about?”
“Oh, please.” She cut me off with a sarcastic laugh. “Jake told me everything about you. How clingy you are.
How boring. How… completely useless. Honestly, it’s no wonder he’s moving on.
A man like him deserves better.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “Why are you telling me this?” I managed, my voice shaking. “Because you need to let him go,” she said.
“Step aside and let Jake have a real chance at happiness. With me.”
Before I could respond—demand answers, scream, anything—the line went dead. For a long moment, I just sat there, my phone still pressed to my ear.
Slowly, I lowered it and stared at the wall, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was she telling the truth? Was Jake really capable of something so cruel?
Or was this just some twisted prank? I didn’t know which possibility scared me more—that she was lying… or that she wasn’t. For two days, I couldn’t shake Anna’s words.
They replayed in my mind, tangled with Jake’s smug suggestion about “saving for our future.” None of it made sense. The late nights, the sudden secrecy with his phone, how quickly he dismissed my concerns—it all pointed to something I had willfully ignored. How had I been so blind?
But Jake had no idea I knew about Anna—and that gave me an advantage. That evening, I found him lounging on the couch, feet propped up, scrolling on his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world. I took a deep breath, forced a bright smile, and walked over.
“I’ve been thinking about your idea,” I said lightly. His head snapped up, eyes brightening. “Yeah?”
I nodded.
“I think you’re right. I should take over the bills.”
Jake’s grin stretched ear to ear. He leaned back, looking like the cat who got the cream.
“I knew you’d see it my way. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Totally,” I replied smoothly. What he didn’t know was that I had already set everything in motion.
That afternoon, I had drained every dollar from our joint savings account and moved it into an account under my name. I called our landlord to say we wouldn’t be renewing the lease. I even canceled the utilities—water, power, internet.
For the rest of the week, I played the perfect wife. I smiled, agreed with him on everything, and acted supportive. Behind the scenes, though, I was digging.
I went through his emails, his bank statements, and even checked his social media. What I found made everything crystal clear: Anna hadn’t lied. Jake was using me to bankroll his fantasy life with her.
But he wasn’t going to get away with it. By the time he realized what I’d done, his entire world would collapse. The morning everything fell apart was almost serene.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, birds chirped, and I sipped my coffee with a calmness I hadn’t felt in weeks. Jake wandered in, yawning, and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened.
“Hey, the electricity’s off,” he grumbled. “Huh, that’s weird,” I said casually, taking another sip. He scowled, but before he could ask more, his phone buzzed.
He picked it up and frowned. “The landlord says we have to move out in two weeks. What the hell is going on?”
“Oh, about that,” I said, setting my cup down neatly.
“Since I’m paying all the bills now, I thought it’d be smarter to downsize. I found a cute little one-bedroom apartment. For me.
You’re not on the lease, so you’ll need to figure out where to live.”
Jake froze, blinking hard. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy?”
I smiled sweetly.
“Nope. Just practical. Oh, and the savings account?” I gestured to his phone.
“I transferred it all to my account. Consider it fair compensation for the cooking, cleaning, and laundry I’ve been doing for free.”
His face flushed deep red. “You can’t do that!
That’s our money!”
“Correction: It was my money too. But now it’s just mine.” I stood up, grabbing my keys. “Good luck saving for ‘our future,’ Jake.
Or should I say your future? Because I’m not part of it anymore.”
As I walked toward the door, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen—Anna.
His face went pale. I laughed. “Better answer that.
She seems high-maintenance. I’m sure she’ll love hearing why her fancy downtown apartment isn’t happening.”
He sputtered something, but I didn’t stay to listen. I walked out and let the door slam behind me, leaving Jake and his chaos behind.
Two weeks later, I was sipping wine on the balcony of my cozy new apartment, enjoying the quiet and the peace that came with being alone. The chaos of the past month already felt distant. Through mutual friends, I heard Jake was couch-surfing, desperately trying to save enough for a deposit.
Apparently, Anna dumped him the second she found out his “savings” were gone. Poetic justice, really. A text pinged on my phone: “Jake’s crashing at Tom’s.
He’s been telling everyone you ruined his life. Thought you’d want to know.”
I laughed out loud and set the phone down. For the first time in years, I felt free—truly free from his selfishness, manipulation, and his version of “our future.”
Raising my glass, I whispered to myself with a smile, “Here’s to my future, Jake.
You’re not in it.”
Source: thecelebritist.com
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental.
The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
