Everything Should Be Split Evenly: When an Argument Over Spending Turns a Marriage Into Mathematical…

Everything Must Be Split Evenly

Holly, we need to talk about spending. Your spending, to be exact how youre such a spendthrift.

Holly paused midway through lifting her coffee to her lips. It was seven in the morning, she wasnt fully awake, and James was already in the kitchen doorway looking as if he were about to deliver a guilty verdict.

What spending? And why am I a spendthrift? She managed to take a sip, though the coffee instantly tasted flat.

You spend far too much on yourself. Every week its shopping bags or parcels a new dress, or some face cream that costs a fortune!

Holly set her cup down slowly. Quite an accusation, springing it on her first thing, no good morning, love.

It was thirty pounds for that cream, if you must know. And not every week once every couple of months.

Holly, we share a household budget.

He said it like a teacher explaining simple sums to a stubborn pupil. Holly clenched her teeth. Counted to five. Didnt help.

James, do you want me to remind you how much you spend on your car every month?

He frowned, clearly not expecting such an early counterattack.

Thats different.

Is it? Petrol, car washes, those odd bits and bobs, insurance, servicing every six months. I dont even use your chunky 4×4, not once have I driven it.

I need it to get to work, said James, folding his arms. Its a tool.

Holly let out a short, brittle laugh.

A tool? Really? And what do you suppose my clothes and cosmetics are for? Fun? I work in an office, meet with clients. I cant rock up in a baggy t-shirt with wind-chapped skin.

Well, surely you could cut back a bit.

Certainly, Holly nodded. Why dont I wear the same blazer to every meeting for three years? And you, sell your 4×4 and get a second-hand Fiesta? Thatll still get you to work, wont it?

James opened his mouth, closed it, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Youre twisting my words.

No, James. Youre twisting things. When it comes to your spending, its investments. When its my turn, its wasteful. Terribly convenient, isnt it?

He stood there for a moment, then made an exasperated gesture and left the kitchen. Holly heard the front door slam.

The coffee was now completely cold. She poured it down the sink and rested her forehead against the chilly tiles above it.

What a way to start the day. Absolutely brilliant.

At work, Emily nearly choked on her salad upon hearing the story.

Wait, he said that? First thing in the morning?

Holly poked a fork at her canteen meat pie. She hadnt felt hungry since waking up, and five hours later still had no appetite.

He really did. I didnt even get to finish my coffee.

Oh, thats classic, Emily leaned back and squinted at her. My ex did that too. Insisted we split everything, modern and fair and all that.

So, what happened?

I quickly did the maths for him. Told him: You eat twice as much as me. In the morning I have yoghurt, you have a fry-up. Lunch I have a salad, you order two mains. So, love, you pay your share for food.

Holly smiled wryly. Emily could have been a solicitor always had rock-solid arguments.

Did he get it?

Oh, did he ever. Went around with the calculator for three days, keeping all the receipts. Then it went quiet. We split up a month later.

Because of that?

It was a symptom, Emily shrugged, going back to her salad. When a man starts counting your pennies, hes not really with you anymore. Hes living out some idea where you dont fit.

Holly said nothing. There was something sharply true in Emilys words.

That evening, she walked home more slowly than usual. Intentionally got off the bus a stop early and walked. The air smelled of wet tarmac and something faintly acrid maybe leaves, maybe exhaust fumes. She really didnt want to think about what awaited her at home.

The flat was silent. James wasnt back yet. Holly changed, took some chicken and veg from the fridge, and started to cook. Her hands worked on autopilot chop, season, into the pan. Her mind was blissfully blank.

James came back around eight. He peered into the kitchen from the doorway.

You havent overspent today, have you?

Holly didnt even turn around. She calmly stirred the veg.

No. Didnt buy anything at all.

He nodded and went to get changed. Holly set the table. Two plates, a salad, chicken with vegetables. As always though portions were smaller; shed purposefully avoided shopping and the fridge was looking empty.

They sat down to eat. James stared at his plate, then looked up at Holly.

Why is there so little food?

Holly carefully placed her fork on the edge of her plate and gave him a long, steady look.

Well, you said everything needed to be split evenly. So here you go. Evenly split.

James blinked. Once, then twice. Fork poised in midair.

What do you mean?

Exactly what I said. I made dinner and split it precisely in half. Thats your portion. For the record, Ill have enough left for breakfast. But Im not sure what youll do in the morning, seeing as the rest of the groceries are common property. If I use it all on you, that wouldnt be fair, would it?

James put his fork down, his face colouring, jaw muscles tensing.

Holly, this is a bit off.

Off? Holly raised an eyebrow, leaning back. What exactly is off? This was your idea to split our expenses. Im simply doing it.

Thats not what I meant!

What did you mean then? That I should cut back but your spending is sacred?

James fell silent. Holly could see he was searching for an argument but coming up empty.

By the way, she took a sip of water, how much did you spend on petrol today?

Whats petrol got to do with anything?

Everything. How much?

He hesitated, frowned, did some mental arithmetic.

Maybe twenty pounds? Maybe twenty-five.

Lets make it twenty, Holly got up. One moment.

She left for the hallway. James heard a rummaging, then Holly returned with his wallet in hand.

What are you doing? He half-rose from his seat.

Taking my half.

She calmly opened the wallet, took out a crisp tenner and two pound coins, slipped them into the pocket of her pyjama bottoms. James just stared, mouth agape.

Holly, are you actually serious?

Completely, she said, putting the wallet back in front of him. You spent twenty on petrol so Im entitled to the same for my own needs. Perfectly fair, straight down the middle. Just as you wanted.

But this is ridiculous!

This is your idea, James. Im just making it work. Holly smiled and sat down again. Maybe Ill even save up for a new cardigan at this rate.

James clamped his mouth shut. A vein pulsed in his neck, jaw twitching, but not a word passed his lips. Holly carried on eating her dinner, unbothered.

The rest of the meal passed in total silence.

The week dragged on, slow and tense. Each evening Holly cooked exactly enough for two, splitting portions with mathematical precision. James eyed his own plate and then Hollys, frowning, but said nothing. Each morning she asked how much he planned to spend on petrol. Every night, shed claim her half.

By Wednesday hed given up and started taking the Tube to work.

By Friday he looked gaunt and peckish as a stray dog.

By the weekend, Holly had almost three hundred pounds tucked away in her own envelope. James was now buying his lunch at work, unable to rely on home food. Holly knew all about it shed counted every last pound of Jamess money on Monday night. Even split, after all.

On Saturday morning, James sat in the kitchen clutching a mug of tea. When Holly walked in, he looked up at her, the shadows under his eyes almost black.

Holly he faltered, rubbing his neck, I was wrong. Sorry.

Holly poured herself coffee, sat opposite him, warming her hands around her cup, waiting patiently.

This was stupid, James sighed. Seriously daft. I read too much nonsense and got carried away with this splitting-everything lark. Can we just forget about it?

Alright, she agreed easily. Though bear in mind, I havent even started counting my household work.

What work?

Cooking, cleaning, laundry, ironing. If I added it up at going rates, youd owe me another three hundred at least.

James choked on his tea, grabbed a napkin.

But I wont count it, Holly took a sip and looked at him over the rim. As long as you promise not to turn our marriage into accountancy ever again. Deal?

Deal. He nodded quickly. Scouts honour. No more keeping score.

Brilliant.

Holly smiled, reaching for a biscuit. James looked at her like someone whod just dodged a disaster.

And Holly reflected that sometimes, you just have to play these games out to their logical conclusion. Show the silliness from the inside out. Turn things to your own advantage. Its only then you not only save your marriage but manage to win the argument too. Simple arithmetic, in the end a lesson about fairness in every partnership.