“— And what, am I supposed to go hungry now?” Leo exclaimed, his anger bubbling over.
“Of course not,” Anna replied calmly. “You can go to the store, buy groceries, and make yourself dinner. Or order delivery. You do have money.”
“Is this some kind of strike?” he asked finally. “Are you refusing to do your ‘feminine duties’?”
“I’m tired of being the family’s workhorse. Why should I carry everything alone?”
Leo slammed his briefcase on the table and pointed at the new food processor. “And you bought something again?”
Anna looked at him in surprise. Dinner was nearly ready, the apartment was spotless, laundry done—everything, as always, in order after her full workday.
“Leo, I’ve wanted this for a long time. It was on sale, and I paid for it with my own salary…”
“With your salary!” he cut her off, pacing the kitchen. “And what’s left of it? Pennies! Who pays the rent? I do! The car? Me! All the big bills? Still me!”
Anna quietly turned off the stove. The kitchen filled with the smell of simmering food, but her appetite was gone.
“But I work too,” she said softly. “Full-time. And with my salary, I cover groceries. I also cook, clean, and do the laundry.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a saint,” Leo muttered, slamming a cabinet door. “You know what? Enough. From now on, everything will be fair—fifty-fifty. Bills, phone, rent—split evenly. No more freeloading.”
Anna wanted to argue that fairness wasn’t about splitting money while leaving all the housework on her shoulders. But instead she simply said:
“Fine. Fifty-fifty it is.”
The next morning, Anna woke early. Leo was still asleep. Yesterday’s conversation replayed in her mind. She opened her laptop, checking her bank statements. Almost her entire salary went to the family: utilities, groceries, daily needs. And on top of that—cooking, cleaning, laundry. Was all that worth nothing?
She remembered their first dates—how he had called her his queen, promised to do anything for her. And now? A “milking cow.” Romance turned into accounting.
Later, at work, Leo bragged to his colleague Igor: “She agreed! Right away, no arguments. Fairness is fairness.”
Igor just shrugged. “Be careful what you wish for.”
That evening, Anna came home with a small basket: yogurt, cheese, bread, and one chicken breast. No fish fillet—Leo’s favorite.
She ate, cleaned up, started a load of laundry, then settled on the couch with her tablet. When Leo texted, “Be home in half an hour. What’s for dinner?” she smiled and didn’t reply.
When he arrived, the kitchen was clean and empty. The fridge half-bare. Anna was on the couch with headphones in.
“Where’s dinner?” he asked.
She looked at him calmly. “What dinner? You didn’t give me money for yours. I bought food for myself. And I made myself dinner.”
Leo stared. “Are you serious? After I work all day, you don’t even cook?”
“You said fifty-fifty. Dinner is a shared expense. I bought mine. You can buy yours.”
“Is this some kind of strike? You’re refusing your feminine duties?”
Anna set her tablet aside. “I did them, faithfully, until yesterday. But then you said fifty-fifty. So let’s do everything equally—not just with money. Cooking, cleaning, laundry—we’ll split it all.”
Leo shifted awkwardly. “I don’t even know how to use the washing machine…”
“I’ll show you,” she said with a smile.
“And if you’re not going to cook or clean, then why do I even need you?” he snapped.
Her expression hardened. “Providing for the family is a man’s duty. I never asked why I need you, even when I still had to work. But if you refuse that duty too… then what’s left?”
Silence filled the room.
Finally Leo muttered, “Sorry. I went too far. Let’s go back to how things were.”
Anna shook her head. “Why? I’ve already eaten, washed, cleaned, and now I’m resting. Honestly, this way is even easier for me.” She put her headphones back in.
Leo, frustrated, called his mother. To his shock, she sided with Anna. “Your father worked and helped around the house. That’s what a real man does.”
The first week was miserable for Leo—burnt eggs, overpriced deliveries, failed roasts. Meanwhile, Anna felt light and free: simple meals, evenings to herself, coffee with friends, weekends without chores.
By Friday, Leo had had enough. He rushed home early, cooked a roast chicken, lit candles, and bought her favorite wine.
When Anna walked in, she was suspicious. “What’s this?”
“Dinner,” he said simply. “I made it.”
They sat down, and he confessed: “I was wrong. You do much more than I ever gave you credit for. Let’s make a new agreement. We’ll share housework fairly, and contribute to expenses based on income. I’ll cover sixty-five percent, you thirty-five. That’s fair.”
Anna studied him, then smiled. “Only if we really divide the chores—not me reminding you constantly.”
“I promise,” Leo said, showing her a list and schedule he’d made.
She laughed softly. “You might just turn into a good husband yet.”
He raised his glass. “To a new beginning?”
“To partnership,” she corrected, clinking glasses.
That night, even the slightly burnt roast chicken tasted like the best meal in the world.
