“I’ve had enough of carrying you lot on my shoulders! Not a single penny more—sort yourselves out however you fancy!” Yana exclaimed, blocking the cards.

“I’m fed up with hauling you all on my back! Not a single penny leftgo feed yourselves however you wish!” Rosamund shouted, slamming her hand against the cards.

She shoved the flat’s door ajar and was instantly swallowed by the clatter of the kitchen. James was in the middle of a chat with his motherMargaret Whitbywho had drifted in that morning and claimed the kitchen as her kingdom, as usual.

“So what’s the story with the telly?” James asked.

“It’s ancient,” Margaret complained. “The picture’s a mess, the sound flickers. It should’ve been swapped ages ago.”

Rosamund slipped off her shoes and slipped into the kitchen. Margaret sat at the table nursing a mug of tea; James fidgeted with his mobile.

“Ah, Rosamund’s here,” James said, bright as a morning sun. “We were just debating Mum’s television.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Rosamund asked, her voice dripping with fatigue.

“It’s dead as a doornail. We need a new one,” Margaret said.

James set his phone down and stared at his wife.

“You always foot the bill for these things. Buy Mum a TV. We don’t want to dip into our own pockets.”

Rosamund froze, coat halfoff. He said it as plainly as if he were asking for a loaf of bread.

“I don’t feel like it either. Do you?” Rosamund replied.

“Well, you’ve got a good job, decent wages,” James went on. “And my salary is modest.”

Rosamund’s brow furrowed, as if she were testing whether he was serious. He wore a mask of certainty, convinced of his own logic.

“I’m not a bank,” Rosamund said slowly.

“Oh, come off it,” James waved her aside. “It’s just a TV.”

She sank into the chair and let the past few months replay in her mind. Who paid the rent? Rosamund. Who bought the groceries? Rosamund. Who covered the utilities? Rosamund again. And the medication for Margaret, who constantly muttered about blood pressure and aching joints. The loan Margaret had taken for a kitchen remodelshe stopped paying after three months, and Rosamund swallowed that too.

“Remember something?” James asked.

“I remember who has been footing the bill for this family these two years.”

Margaret stepped into the fray.

“Rosamund, you’re the lady of the house; the responsibility falls on you. Is it really that hard to buy your husband’s mother a TV? It’s a family purchase.”

“For the family?” Rosamund echoed. “And where’s this family when moneys needed?”

“It’s not like we do nothing,” James protested. “I work, and Mum helps around the house.”

“What help?” Rosamund asked, surprised. “Margaret comes over for tea and to whine about her ailments.”

Margaret bristled.

“What do you mean just to talk? I give you advice on how to run a proper household.”

“Advice on how I’m supposed to support everyone?”

“Well, who else would?” James asked, genuinely puzzled. “You have a steady job and a decent income.”

Rosamund stared at him, seeing how he truly believed it normal for his wife to shoulder the whole financial world.

“And what do you do with your money?” she pressed.

“I save it,” James said. “Just in case.”

“For what case?”

“You never knowcrisis, job loss. You need a safety cushion.”

“And where’s my safety cushion?”

“You have a reliable job; they won’t sack you.”

Rosamund said calmly, “Perhaps it’s time you and your mother decided what to buy and with what money.”

James smirked. “Why speak like that? You manage money so well, and we already try not to burden you with extra costs.”

“Not burden me?” Blood flushed her cheeks. “James, do you really think you’re not a burden?”

“It’s not like we ask you to buy something every day,” Margaret interjected. “Only when it’s truly needed.”

“Is a TV truly needed?”

“Of course! How can you live without a TV? The news, the programmes.”

“You can watch everything online.”

“I don’t understand the internet,” Margaret snapped. “I need a proper TV.”

Rosamund sensed the conversation looping endlessly. In their heads, both Margaret and James genuinely believed Rosamund was obliged to fund everything while they pinched every penny for themselves.

“Fine,” Rosamund said. “Tell me how much this TV costs.”

“Well, you could find a decent one for about four hundred pounds,” James brightened. “A big one, with smart features.”

“Four hundred pounds,” Rosamund repeated.

“Yeah, not much.”

“James, do you know how much I spend on this family each month?”

“Well a lot, I suppose.”

“About six hundred pounds a monthrent, groceries, utilities, Mum’s medication, her loan.”

James shrugged. “It’s family. That’s normal.”

“And how much do you spend on the family?”

“Well sometimes I buy milk. Bread.”

“James, you spend at most fifty pounds a month on the family,” Rosamund calculated, “and not even every month.”

“But I’m saving for a rainy day.”

“Whose rainy day? Yours?”

“Ours, of course.”

“So why does the money sit in your personal account and not in a joint one?”

James fell silent. Margaret’s mouth closed too.

“Rosamund, you’re twisting things,” Margaret finally ventured. “My son provides for the family.”

“With what?” Rosamund asked, astonished. “The last time James bought groceries was six months ago, and only because I was ill and begged him to go to the shop.”

“But he works!”

“And I work. Yet my salary seems to vanish into everyone else’s hands, while his stays with him.”

“That’s just how it works,” James said uncertainly. “The woman runs the household.”

“Running the household doesn’t mean carrying everyone on your back,” Rosamund retorted.

“What do you suggest?” Margaret asked.

“I suggest everyone funds themselves.”

“How’s that supposed to work?” Margaret cried. “What about family?”

“Family means everyone contributes equally, not one person dragging the rest.”

James stared at his wife, bewildered. “Rosamund, that’s a strange way to think. We’re husband and wife; we have a joint account.”

“Joint?” Rosamund laughed. “A joint account is when both people put money into one pot and spend it together. What do we have? I put money in, and you keep yours to yourself.”

“Not for myselfI’m saving it.”

“For yourself. Because when money is needed, you’ll spend it on your own needs, not shared ones.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Right now your mother needs a TV. You have four hundred set aside. Will you buy it for her?”

James hesitated. “Well that’s my savings.”

“Exactly. Yours.”

Margaret tried to sway him: “Rosamund, you shouldn’t talk to your husband like that. A man should feel like the head of the family.”

“And the head of the family should support the family, not live off his wife.”

“James does not live off you!” Margaret protested.

“He does. For two years I’ve paid the rent, food, utilities, your medication, and your loan. And James has been squirrelling money for his personal wants.”

“It’s only temporary,” James tried to justify. “There’s a crisis, times are tight.”

“We’ve been in a ‘crisis’ for three years now. Each month you shift more expenses onto me.”

“I’m not shifting them; I’m asking for help.”

“Help?” Rosamund let out a short laugh. “Did you pay the rent at any point in the last six months?”

“No, but”

“Did you buy groceries?”

“Sometimes.”

“Buying milk once a month doesn’t count as buying groceries.”

“Fine, I didn’t. But I work and bring money into the family.”

“You bring it in and immediately stash it in your personal account.”

“I’m not hiding it; I’m saving for the future.”

“For your future.”

Margaret leapt in again: “Rosamund, what’s gotten into you? You never complained before.”

“I used to think it was temporary, that my husband would soon start shouldering his share of the expenses.”

“And now?”

“Now I see I’m being used like a cash cow.”

“How can you say that!” James exploded.

“What else am I supposed to call it when one person supports everyone else and they still demand gifts?”

“What gifts? The TV is something Mum needs!”

“James, if your mother needs a TV, then your mother should buy it. Or you can buy it from your savings.”

“But her pension is small!”

“And is my salary made of rubberstretchable without limit?”

“You could afford it.”

“I can, but I don’t want to.”

Silence fell. James and Margaret exchanged glances.

“What do you mean you don’t want to?” James asked quietly.

“It means I’m tired of supporting the whole family alone.”

“But we’re family; we’re meant to help each other.”

“Exactlyeach other, not one person feeding everyone.”

Rosamund rose from the table, realizing they saw her as a moneydispensing machine.

“Where are you off to?” James asked.

“To take care of things.”

Without another word, she pulled out her phone, opened her banking app at the table, and blocked the joint card James had access to. She then transferred all her savings to a new account she had opened a month earlier, just in case.

“What are you doing?” James asked warily.

“Handling finances,” Rosamund said curtly.

James tried to peek at her screen, but Rosamund angled the phone away. Five minutes later every penny had moved to her personal account, inaccessible to anyone else.

“Rosamund, what’s happening?” James asked, alarmed.

“What should have happened ages ago is finally happening.”

She went into the card settings and permanently revoked access for everyone but herself. James stared, bewildered, unable to grasp the magnitude of her move.

Sensing panic, Margaret sprang up.

“What have you done? We’ll be left without money!”

“You’ll be left with the money you earn yourselves,” Rosamund replied calmly.

“What do you mean, ourselves? What about family? What about the joint budget?” Margaret shouted.

“We never had a joint budget. There was only my budget, which everyone nibbed off.”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Margaret roared. “We’re a family!”

In a steady voice, Rosamund said, “From today we live separately. I’m not obliged to fund your whims.”

“Whims?” James objected. “These are necessary expenses!”

“A fourhundredpound TV is a necessary expense?”

“For Mum, yes!”

“Then let Mum buy it with her pension. Or you buy it with your savings.”

Margaret rushed to her son. “Why are you silent? Put her in her place! She’s your wife!”

James muttered something unintelligible, avoiding Rosamund’s eyes. He knew she was right but wouldn’t admit it aloud.

“James,” Rosamund said quietly, “do you really think I should support your entire family?”

“Well we’re husband and wife.”

“Husband and wife means partnership, not a situation where one person bankrolls everyone else.”

“But my salary is smaller!”

“Your salary is smaller, but your savings are largerbecause you never spend them on anything but yourself.”

James fell silent again. Realising his mother wouldn’t pressure her son, Margaret changed tactics.

“Rosamund, give the money back now! I’m running out of medicine!”

“Buy it with your own money.”

“My pension is small!”

“Ask your son. He has savings.”

“James, give me money for my medicine!” Margaret demanded.

James faltered. “Mum, I’m saving that for the family.”

“I am the family!” she shouted.

“But those are my savings.”

“You see?” Rosamund noted. “When it comes to spending, everyone’s money suddenly becomes personal.”

Margaret shifted again. “Rosamund, let’s talk calmly. You’re a kind woman; you’ve always helped.”

“I helped until I realised I was being used.”

“You’re not being usedyoure appreciated!”

“Appreciated for what? For paying all the bills?”

“For supporting the family.”

“I’m not supporting a family. I’m supporting two adults who can earn their own money.”

The next morning Rosamund went to the branch and opened a separate account in her own name. She printed statements for the past two years, showing every pound spent on James and Margaretgroceries, rent, utilities, medication, and the loan. It was all on Rosamund.

When she returned home, she hauled out a large suitcase and began packing James’s belongingsshirts, trousers, socksfolding each neatly.

“What are you doing?” James asked when he got home from work.

“Packing your things.”

“Why?”

“Because you no longer live here.”

“What do you mean I dont? This is my flat too!”

“The lease is in my name. I decide who lives in it.”

“But we’re husband and wife!”

“For now, yes. Not for long.”

Rosamund rolled the suitcase into the hallway and held out her hand. “The keys.”

“The keys?”

“All setsmain and spare.”

“Rosamund, are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

Reluctantly, James handed over the keys. She checkedboth sets present.

“Does your mother have keys?” she asked.

“She does, she pops in now and then.”

“Call her. Tell her to return them.”

“Why?”

“Because Margaret no longer has the right to enter my flat.”

An hour later Margaret arrived. She understood the seriousness when she saw the suitcase sitting like a silent accusation.

“What does this mean?” she asked, stern.

“It means your son is moving out.”

“Moving out where? This is his home!”

“This is my home. I no longer want to support freeloaders.”

“How dare you!” Margaret exploded.

“I dare. Hand over the keys.”

“What keys?”

“The flat keys. I know you have a duplicate.”

“I wont give them back!”

“Then I’ll call the police.”

Margaret raised a ruckus, shouting that Rosamund was tearing the family apart, that relatives shouldn’t be treated like this, that she had always considered her daughterinlaw a good girl.

“The good girl is gone,” Rosamund said calmly, dialing the police.

“Hello, we need assistance. Former relatives refuse to return the keys to my flat and to leave the premises.”

Half an hour later two constables arrived, examined the paperwork, and addressed Margaret. “Maam, return the keys and leave the flat.”

“But my son lives here!”

“Your son is not the owner and has no right to dispose of the property.”

With witnesses present, Margaret reluctantly plucked the keys from her purse and tossed them onto the floor.

“You’ll regret this!” she shouted as she left. “You’ll end up alone!”

“I’ll be alone, but with my own money,” Rosamund replied.

James silently scooped up the suitcase and followed his mother out. At the door he turned back.

“Rosamund, maybe you’ll reconsider?”

“Theres nothing left to reconsider.”

A week later Rosamund filed for divorce. There was almost nothing to splitthe flat had always been in her name, and the car had been bought with her own cash. No joint assets remained.

James tried calling, begged to meet, promised everything would change, that he’d cover all expenses himself.

“Too late,” Rosamund said. “Trust doesn’t return.”

“But I love you!”

“Do you love meor my wallet?”

“You, of course!”

“Then why did you live off me for three years without a hint of remorse?”

James had no answer.

The decree came swiftlyJames didn’t contest, knowing how pointless it was. The court declared the marriage dissolved.

For another month Margaret kept callingcrying, threatening, begging for medicine money. Rosamund listened in silence and hung up.

“My blood pressure is up because of you!” Margaret complained.

“Ask your son to treat you; he has savings.”

“He says he’s sorry to spend the money!”

“Wonderful. Now you understand how I felt for three years.”

Six months later Rosamund crossed paths with James in a shop. He looked tired; his once crisp clothes were now faded.

“Hi,” James greeted awkwardly.

“Hello.”

“How are you?”

“Great. And you?”

“Fine I’m living with Mum for now.”

“I see.”

“You know, I realized I was wrong. I really did dump too much on you.”

“You realized?”

“Yes. Now I pay for all of Mum’s expenses myself, and I see how hard it is.”

“But you’ve got savings.”

“I had. I spent them on Mum’s medication and on fixing her flat.”

“And? Does it hurt to spend it?”

“It does. A lot.”

“Now imagine doing that for three years straight.”

“It hurts. A lot.”

“Now forgive me.”

“I already have. But that changes nothing.”

“What if I make it right? Become a different man?”

“James, you only became different when you were left without my money. That’s not changethat’s being forced by circumstance.”

“But I’ve learned my mistake!”

“You realized it only when you had to pay yourself. If I’d kept supporting everyone, you’d never have learned.”

James nodded, knowing Rosamund was right.

“I have to go,” Rosamund said, heading to the checkout.

AtShe stepped out into the damp London evening, feeling the weight of her freedom settle like a warm coat around her shoulders.