A Dinner Dispute That Reveals Deeper Tensions
Annabeth raised an eyebrow and asked sharply, “What’s for dinner? Did you give me money to prepare it? No? Then why should I be held accountable?”
Levan’s face flushed with anger. “So, what am I supposed to do now? Wander around hungry?”
Calmly, Annabeth responded, “Not at all. You could visit the store, buy something and make your own dinner or even order takeout. After all, you have the money.”
“Is this some sort of strike?” he exploded, his voice rising. “Are you refusing to fulfill your duties as a wife?”
At that, Annabeth’s patience finally snapped. She was fed up. “I’m tired of being the family’s cash cow! Why must I carry all the responsibilities alone?”
Levan slammed his briefcase onto the table and pointed at the new kitchen robot. “Another unnecessary expense?”
Annabeth stared at him incredulously. She was unsure how to reply: the dinner was nearly ready, the apartment clean, the laundry done — everything was in order as usual after a long day of work.
“Lëva, I wished for that for a very long time,” she admitted softly. “It was on sale, and I bought it with my own salary…”
“With your salary!” he interrupted nervously pacing the kitchen. “And what’s left? Mere crumbs! Who pays the rent? Me! Who pays the car? Me! Who covers the important bills? Me!”
Annabeth turned off the stove and wiped her hands on her apron. The aroma from the simmering sauce filled the kitchen enticingly, but she no longer felt hungry.
“I work too,” she said quietly. “Full-time, by the way. We buy groceries with my paycheck. Then I cook, clean, and do the laundry…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re quite the saint,” Levan huffed, slamming the cabinet door as he grabbed a cup to pour water. “You know what? I’ve had enough. Starting today, everything will be fair: we’ll split the expenses evenly since you live off me.”
“What do you mean?” Annabeth crossed her arms, curious.
“Exactly what I said. We’re modern and equal, so fifty-fifty it is. We split bills, phone costs, and every other shared expense. That’s fair, no more me carrying all the weight!”
Annabeth wanted to argue but realized it was pointless. He wasn’t seeking fairness; he simply wanted control. She sighed and nodded: “Alright, Levan. If you want fifty-fifty equality, we’ll do fifty-fifty.”
The following morning, Annabeth woke before the alarm. Levan was still asleep, turned facing the wall. The events of the previous night kept her mind restless. Quietly, she slipped out of bed to the kitchen.
Over the four years of marriage, they had agreed on a division of duties that now seemed clearly unfair. Yes, Levan earned more. When they first met, and Annabeth was still a student, it made sense for him to provide financially while she managed the home. But she had started working too, first part-time, then full-time. Yet, all household chores still fell solely on her shoulders.
She opened the laptop and reviewed their accounts: salaries, bills, groceries, daily expenses… Nearly all her income went directly into the family budget. But what about her contributions? The meals cooked, laundry washed, house cleaned — did none of that matter?
“Romance quickly turns into arithmetic when fairness is lost in relationships.”
Sipping her tea, a sad smile crept over Annabeth’s lips recalling how Levan once courted her like a queen, promising he’d do anything for her. And now? A “cash cow”? How swiftly some men transform love into ledger balances.
Later at work, Levan was telling his colleague Irish, “Yesterday, I told her it’s over. We’ll live like modern couples: fifty-fifty.” He leaned back with satisfaction.
Irish looked intrigued. “How did she take it?”
“You won’t believe it — she agreed right away, no fuss.” Levan smiled triumphantly.
“Really? No arguments?” Irish raised a brow.
Levan nodded confidently. “Apparently, she finally understood that I’m right. What’s wrong with fairness?”
“Everyone defines fairness differently,” Irish mused returning to his work. “My aunt always says, ‘Be careful what you wish for; it tends to come true.’”
Puzzled, Levan frowned. “What does that mean?”
Irish grinned slyly. “No idea, but it sounds wise, right?”
Levan chuckled, brushing off the strange feeling that had lingered. Everything would be fine. Annabeth was reasonable.
That afternoon, Annabeth shopped alone, scrutinizing the shelves carefully. Once she’d stock the cart for the entire family; today, her small basket held only yogurt, cheese, bread, and a chicken breast. She didn’t even glance at the fish filet Levan loved.
The evening was marked by unusual silence. At home, Annabeth baked the chicken breast with vegetables, ate quickly, washed the dishes, threw in a laundry load, and settled comfortably on the sofa with her tablet. She had three series to catch up on, something she rarely found time for. Suddenly, her phone vibrated: a message from Levan: “I’ll be home in thirty minutes. What’s for dinner?”
She smiled but did not reply, setting the phone aside.
The door key turned in the lock. Tired from work, Levan entered and headed to the kitchen expecting the familiar scent of dinner.
“Anyut, I’m home!” he called, taking off his coat.
There was no answer. The kitchen was empty and spotless, with no sign of food. He opened the fridge: shelves half-empty — yogurt, cheese, some vegetables.
“Annabeth!” he shouted, moving toward the living room.
There she was, absorbed in her tablet with headphones on. She took off one earpiece upon noticing him.
“Oh, you’re back already?” she said casually.
“Yes, but where’s the dinner?” Levan looked around as if the meal might be hiding under a cushion.
Annabeth glanced at him, a bit surprised. “What dinner?” she inquired. “You didn’t give me money to make it, right? So what’s the problem?”
Levan was stunned. “Are you serious? After a tough day, I come home, and you haven’t even cooked?”
“You didn’t give me the money to cover your half of dinner,” she responded coolly, removing the other earpiece. “You said fifty-fifty. I bought my own food and cooked for myself. I ate — just like we agreed.”
“But…” Levan was speechless.
“Is this some kind of strike?” she finally asked. “Are you rejecting your role as a wife?”
Annabeth rested the tablet on the cushion and faced him. “Wife’s duties?” she echoed firmly. “I’ve been fulfilling them—until yesterday. But yesterday, you proposed splitting everything in half, and I started wondering why you’re so unfair to me.”
“Unfair, me?!” Levan stammered.
“Yes, you,” Annabeth interrupted. “Before, your money covered the big expenses, and mine bought groceries and extras. I still cooked, cleaned, and did laundry every evening after work. On weekends, I handled deep cleaning and meal prep to free up future days. Remember last Sunday? I spent six hours on chores—half a day off.”
Levan remained silent, overwhelmed by her words.
“And now you want it fifty-fifty,” she continued. “Fine: let’s make it truly fifty-fifty. Not just money, but housework too. We cook in turns or separately. Cleaning tasks are shared. Laundry is each our own. Is that acceptable?”
Levan shifted uneasily. “Uh… I don’t even know how to start the washing machine…”
“I’ll show you,” Annabeth smiled. “It’s simple.”
“And if you don’t cook or clean, what good are you?” Levan blurted out, immediately regretting it.
Annabeth held his gaze steadily without blinking. Then she slowly stood up from the sofa.
“Taking care of the family is a man’s duty,” she whispered, “but I have never asked ‘What good are you?’ despite you rarely providing. I’m the one who always works. Now you’re abandoning your role as a man.” Slightly bowing, she added, “But I won’t ask, because we are a family. Or at least I thought we were.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Levan looked down, his previous anger shifting into shame. Annabeth remained standing, proud, waiting for his response.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I overreacted. Let’s go back to how things were, okay?”
He expected her to rush over and embrace him, then prepare dinner. Instead, Annabeth shook her head.
“Why should I?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “I would have cooked for you, ironed your shirts, washed the dishes. But I already ate, finished everything, and wanted to watch an episode. That’s much more comfortable for me, you know.”
With those words, she put her headphones back on, resumed watching her series, and left Levan speechless in the hallway.
Key Insight: The story highlights how imbalance in shared responsibilities and finances can erode trust and affection within relationships, calling for honest communication and genuine equality.
In conclusion, Annabeth and Levan’s narrative reveals the complex challenges modern couples face when merging finances and household duties. While fairness in financial contributions matters, true equality also demands sharing everyday tasks and mutual respect. Striking this balance requires open dialogue, empathy, and a willingness to adapt, ensuring both partners feel valued and supported in the relationship.