The Useless Wife

June 12, 2025

This month the money vanished faster than a fresh pint on a Friday night, and Im left staring at empty pockets while tying my boots on the hallway stool.

Victoria gave a halfnod as she dusted the hallway mirror, then put on an old record we both know.

Looks like weve got to trim the budget, I said, not looking up from my jacket. And you might want to think about stopping the handouts to your family.

Her hand, still holding the dust rag, hung in the air. She turned slowly toward me.

Really? Thats all you want to cut?

What else?

The door behind me clicked shut.

With a quiet sigh, Victoria tossed the rag into the bucket and shuffled into the sitting room. Our massive Labrador, Baxter, lay on his oversized dog bed that could have been a cot for a toddler. He opened one lazy eye, gave his tail a halfwag, and drifted back to sleep. I watched him and felt a hot, heavy knot tighten in my chest.

Five years of marriage, five years of a joint budget where neither of us kept tabs on the others spending. Our salaries were nearly identical shes an accountant at a large firm, Im a sales manager. It always seemed enough for the bills and the occasional treat.

I didnt skimp on my hobbies. Rockclimbing twice a week with a personal coach costs £250, boxing with another trainer is another £150, plus the gear that I keep updating. Baxter isnt cheap either premium food, regular vet visits, grooming, and the toys he destroys within days. All told, my side of the household ran at least £500 a month.

Victoria, meanwhile, helped mum with prescription costs her pension is tiny and the bloodpressure meds are pricey. Her sister Emma, a single mum to little Poppy, receives only a token childsupport after her husband left a year ago. Victorias outgoings were around £350£400 a month, plus a corporate gym membership that costs about £200 a year a laughable sum.

It used to work. Each of us spent on what we thought mattered. Then last year we took out a mortgage on a twobed flat in a new development on the outskirts of Manchester. This year my sales dipped, bonuses were slashed, and Victorias commission fell too. The mortgage could still be met, but holidays abroad and the latest smartphones were out of the question.

A month ago Victoria gently suggested we both curb a bit. I took it as a childish jab and puffed up, but I seemed to mull it over. Now Ive decided the cuts will fall only on her side.

Victoria reached for her phone to call Emma, then put it down. She decided a bit of cleaning would calm her nerves physical work always helped her settle.

Two days passed in a strained silence. I pretended nothing had changed. Victoria let her anger snowball, rolling it around in her mind.

On the third evening, as we ate, I tried again.

Vicky, have you thought about the expenses?

The fork clinked against the plate. She lifted her eyes to me.

Why are we only cutting my side? Youre not touching your climbing or your other hobbies, I gather?

Thats a different story! I said, setting my knife down. What I spend is for both of us. Youre just diverting it elsewhere.

Both of us? How am I responsible for your climbing? And how much do you spend on Baxter each month? Did you forget?

This is about my health! And Baxter is part of the family.

My mum and Emmas little girl arent family?

Theyre not our family.

She slumped back in her chair, hands clasped over her chest.

Fine. Would you be happy if I started spending £600£700 a month on spa treatments, a beautician, massages?

I sprang up so fast I nearly tipped the chair over.

Thats sabotage! Youve never done that before. Youre just saying it to get a rise out of me! I need sport, understand? I need it!

And I need to help my relatives! I still spend less on them than you do on yourself!

Its different!

Whats different? I asked, rising from the table. Explain why your boxing trainer is more important than Emmas niece, who needs books for school?

Dont twist this! Im simply asking you to be reasonable with the spending!

Reasonable is when Im the only one saving!

We stood at opposite ends of the table like boxers waiting for the bell. Baxter, sensing the tension, trotted over and nudged my knee.

Your spending doesnt benefit us! I snapped.

And yours does? What does the family gain from you scaling walls like SpiderMan?

My face flushed, I stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door. Victoria stayed by the table, the dinner growing cold.

The next morning Emma called.

Vicky, I know everything. Steve called me last night, said you were having trouble and asked me not to ask you for money. Hes trying not to argue because of us, but you both need to sort this out.

Emma, its not about money any more. Its principle. He wants me to fund the mortgage, the food, his hobbies and the dog, while my family has to scrape together on their own.

Maybe you can reach a compromise?

What compromise? That I become a free servant?

After that call I decided enough was enough.

When Steve finally crossed the threshold that evening, I met him in the hallway.

Were moving to separate budgets.

What? he blurted, jacket still on. Dont be daft, Vicky!

Im tired of arguing. From now on each of us pays half the mortgage, utilities, groceries. Whatevers left, we spend as we wish.

Thats unfair! We always shared everything!

And its about time we changed that!

He shouted, pleaded that I was destroying the family, that this was unacceptable. I was unmoved. The next day I opened a new bank account and transferred my salary into it.

Steve wore his pride like armor for a week. By the second week he complained about having to cut back. By midmonth his cash ran dry he missed two climbing sessions and had to buy cheaper food for Baxter.

Vicky, can we call a truce? he begged while I was making dinner. Why are you acting like a child?

Im acting like an adult who decides how to use his own money.

But were a family, Vicky

A family doesnt mean I give you access to my earnings.

He clenched his teeth and left.

Another month slipped by. Our relationship deteriorated. We barely spoke, slept in separate rooms he even moved his mattress onto the livingroom sofa. Baxter paced between us, whimpering at night.

On payday Steve erupted.

Stop this circus! Bring back the joint budget like before!

What for? I was painting my nails.

Im short of cash!

Cut your expenses.

I cant give up my sport! Its my health!

And I cant give up helping my family. My conscience wont let me.

Conscience?! Youre selfish! You only think of yourself!

I stood slowly, met his gaze.

Selfish? Im the one who shares with relatives. You, who only thinks about your muscles and fun, call yourself altruistic?

What good is that to you? Climbing walls and feeding a dog?

Why did I even marry you?

I turned, headed to the bedroom, and began packing a suitcase.

What are you doing? Steve asked, frozen in the doorway.

Im moving to my sisters flat. Ive had enough.

Vicky, wait, lets talk calmly

Talk about what? You called me useless. Why would I stay?

I snapped the suitcase shut and walked past him, Baxter whimpering as I passed.

Emmas onebed flat was cramped just her, me, and little Poppy but at least it was peaceful. No one demanded account of every pound I spent, no one called me useless.

A week later I filed for divorce. Steve called, texted, even showed up at Emmas doorstep, but she wouldnt let him in. He begged me to return, promising change, but my mind was made up.

The house sold quickly a decent neighbourhood, fresh renovations. We split the proceeds, the furniture, the appliances. Steve kept Baxter.

I took out a modest mortgage on a cosy onebed flat in a historic terrace in York. It needed a cosmetic touch, but no one was poking around my wallet.

Within the first month I sent my mother to a care home a promise Id finally kept. I bought Emma a new laptop for Poppys schoolwork. For myself I signed up at a good health club with a pool.

In the evenings I settled with a cup of tea, the phone blinking with an unread message from Steve, claiming hed realized his mistakes and wanted to change. I deleted it without a reply.

That little flat was mine alone. The money was mine alone. And now I could decide how to use it without anyones judgment about my climbs, my dog, or my sense of duty.

Lesson: sharing a life doesnt mean surrendering your own financial independence. A partnership thrives when both partners respect each others priorities, not when one persons wants become the others burden.