“Separate finances? Fine, then you buy the groceries—you’re the one who cooks!” Igor declared, folding his arms across his chest.
Marina carefully placed her fork on the napkin, looked at her husband, and replied quietly:
“Life has gotten better, life has gotten more cheerful, as the classic saying goes. Fine, Igor. We’ll have separate finances.”
Of course, things had started very differently.
Three years earlier, when they had just gotten married, the subject of money had never really come up in their family.
Marina lived in her own two-bedroom apartment, which she had inherited from her grandmother before she had even met Igor.
She always paid the utilities, repairs, and property taxes herself from her steady salary of eighty thousand rubles as an accountant.
Igor earned ninety-five thousand working in sales, but his money constantly disappeared on his personal needs and entertainment.
Every evening, Marina cooked hearty three-course dinners, baked fragrant pies, and kept the refrigerator fully stocked with fresh, high-quality food.
Igor took all of this for granted and genuinely seemed to believe that food somehow appeared in the house for free.
The first warning signs had appeared six months earlier, while they were discussing plans for their upcoming summer vacation.
Marina suggested that they start putting money aside together for the trip and asked her husband to transfer thirty thousand rubles into their joint savings account.
Igor spent a long time moving his cup of tea around the table, staring out the window, before finally muttering gloomily:
“I don’t have any spare money right now. I renewed the insurance on the car and bought new alloy wheels.”
Marina was genuinely surprised, especially since she hardly ever used his car.
“Igor, we agreed six months ago that we’d save for the vacation together,” she reminded him.
“You spend too much money on useless nonsense, Marina,” her husband snapped. “If you knew how to save properly, we’d have more than enough money for everything.”
“So my purchases are useless nonsense?” Marina asked. “But your new wheels are an absolute necessity?”
“A car is transportation and status,” Igor replied proudly. “Meanwhile, your cheeses and fruit from the market disappear in two days.”
Another month passed, and Igor’s mother, Nina Petrovna, arrived without warning.
She stayed with them for two weeks, ate nearly an entire month’s supply of groceries, and generously offered Marina daily advice on how to run the household.
“Marina, you buy cheese that’s far too expensive,” Nina Petrovna said while finishing her third piece of Parmesan with her tea. “And Igor tells me that you keep demanding money from him for household expenses. A proper wife should manage the home with her own money instead of squeezing every last kopeck out of her husband.”
“Our boys are playing beautifully—we just aren’t cheering for them,” Marina quoted from the classic Soviet comedy Gentlemen of Fortune while clearing the dirty plates from the table.
Nina Petrovna pursed her lips, frowned disapprovingly, and shook her head.
“You’re always saying some pretentious nonsense from old movies. A husband should be cherished and well fed. I only have one son, and he’s worth his weight in gold.”
“He may be worth his weight in gold, but for some reason he doesn’t want to contribute toward groceries,” Marina remarked.
“A man should spend money on serious things, not on bunches of greens from the market!” her mother-in-law snapped.
The first truly major argument erupted the previous evening, when Igor came home carrying a printed spreadsheet.
It contained a detailed breakdown of absolutely every household expense from the previous month, including a kilogram of bananas, fresh herbs, and toilet paper.
“I’ve carefully calculated everything,” Igor announced ceremoniously as he sat down at the dining table. “You’re spending far too much of the money I earn. Starting today, we’re switching to completely separate finances. Everyone pays for themselves, down to the last kopeck.”
Marina studied the sheet of paper carefully and noticed that he had even included fifty rubles he had paid for city parking.
“Fine,” she agreed calmly. “What exactly are your terms?”
“Separate finances? Excellent. Then you buy the groceries—you’re the one who cooks!” Igor declared. “I’ll pay for my own gas, my personal expenses, and my lunches at cafés.”
“Here’s to our wishes matching our means,” Marina said with an ironic smile, remembering another old comedy. “Agreed, Igor. From now on, everyone takes care of themselves.”
The next morning, Marina woke up early, calmly got ready, and drove to a large supermarket.
She bought fresh salmon, avocados, expensive aged cheese, ripe tomatoes, and a crispy baguette.
She prepared an excellent breakfast for herself, and for dinner she baked exactly one portion of fish with fragrant herbs.
Igor came home from work tired and hungry and immediately headed toward the kitchen, drawn by the delicious smell.
He opened the refrigerator and stared in surprise at the almost completely empty shelves, except for a single container on the top shelf.
“Marina, where’s all the food?” her husband asked, looking around.
“In the container,” she replied from her laptop in the study. “That’s my dinner.”
“And where’s my dinner?” Igor called loudly, checking the pots.
“Your dinner is at the store down the street. We have separate finances, remember?”
“What do you mean, at the store? You didn’t cook anything for me?”
“I buy groceries for myself and cook only for myself,” Marina explained. “You were the one who suggested this arrangement.”
Igor stood in the middle of the kitchen with his mouth open, completely lost for words.
“Are you serious right now?” he hissed, clenching his fists. “I’m supposed to buy my own food after work?”
“Completely serious,” Marina replied. “Your exact words yesterday were that everyone pays for themselves.”
“But you were standing at the stove anyway! Would it have been so difficult to buy and cook one extra piece?”
“One piece of fish costs eight hundred rubles,” Marina said calmly. “You didn’t pay for it, and I didn’t sign up to support you for free.”
“You’re petty and selfish!” Igor shouted. “You’re counting money over a piece of food in your own family!”
“You’re hardly the person to accuse anyone of being petty,” Marina smirked. “Should I remind you about the fifty rubles for parking on your list?”
“That was a matter of principle!” Igor declared.
“Well, now I have principles too,” Marina replied sharply.
That evening, Igor ate some dry instant noodles he happened to find in the far corner of a kitchen cupboard.
He honestly expected his wife’s rebellion to last two days at most, but Marina remained calm and determined.
She cooked herself steaks, vegetable salads, and seafood pasta.
She carefully placed every prepared meal into labeled containers and kept them on her own refrigerator shelf.
For three days, Igor survived on cheap sausages, frozen dumplings, and dry sandwiches.
He quickly discovered that constantly ordering prepared meals from restaurants and buying fast food consumed an enormous portion of his salary.
During the very first week, he spent more than twenty-five thousand rubles on random snacks and deliveries, rapidly draining his available cash.
“Marina, how long are you going to keep playing this ridiculous game?” he asked in the evenings.
“I’m not playing, Igor. I’m following your financial rules,” she replied.
During the second week of their separate-budget arrangement, Nina Petrovna decided to visit again.
She entered the apartment with the confident smile of an owner and announced loudly from the doorway:
“Igorechka, I brought you a jar of blackcurrant jam! Now hurry up and give your mother a proper lunch after her long journey!”
Igor scratched the back of his head awkwardly, went into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.
On the top shelf sat a large glass baking dish filled with roasted chicken and potatoes covered in melted cheese.
Nina Petrovna confidently grabbed a fork from the drying rack and reached toward the dish.
“Please don’t touch that, Nina Petrovna,” Marina said politely but firmly as she entered the kitchen. “Those are my groceries.”
“What do you mean, your groceries?” her mother-in-law exclaimed, lowering the fork. “I came to visit my own son!”
“And your son didn’t pay a single kopeck for that food,” Marina replied. “We officially have separate finances now. Igor can prepare something for you from his own personal budget.”
“What beauty! What magnificence!” Marina added with a small bow, quoting Ivan Vasilievich Changes His Profession.
Nina Petrovna practically choked on air at such insolence and turned toward her son.
“Igor, what kind of outrageous nonsense is going on in this house? Is she starving you in your own apartment?”
“It isn’t his apartment. It’s mine,” Marina clarified. “I legally inherited it. I also pay all the utilities entirely on my own.”
“Igor, do something about her!” his mother shouted, slamming her palm on the table. “Feed your mother properly!”
Igor nervously pulled out his phone and checked the balance on his bank card.
Because of his daily spending on cafés, fast food, and installment payments for his sets of wheels, he had only a couple of thousand rubles left until his next advance payment.
“Mom, how about we just have some sandwiches with boiled eggs?” he suggested quietly.
“What?!” Nina Petrovna gasped indignantly. “I traveled all the way across the city to eat one boiled egg?”
“I don’t have money for a restaurant, Mom,” Igor muttered. “I spent everything on food deliveries this week.”
“Then tell your wife to cook for everyone!” his mother insisted. “She’s obligated to cook for the family!”
“I bought food only for myself,” Marina interrupted. “There isn’t enough here for three people.”
“I’m not obligated to do anything for anyone,” Marina said as she poured herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “During your last visit, you were the one telling me that a proper wife shouldn’t ask her husband for money to cover household expenses. So now let your son cover his own expenses.”
“You’re not a woman—you’re a cold, heartless stone!” Nina Petrovna snapped, getting up from her chair. “Igor, pack your things right now and come home with me! I’ll feed you proper hot soup!”
“Fine, Mom, let’s go,” Igor replied miserably, lowering his head. “Living here is impossible.”
“And don’t forget to take your parking receipts with you,” Marina called after them. “Apparently they matter more to you than our life together.”
They left, slamming the door loudly behind them, while Marina calmly finished her coffee and returned to her financial calculations.
Without the expense of feeding her husband and mother-in-law, she had already accumulated a surprisingly substantial amount of savings within the first month.
Three days later, Igor returned to the apartment alone, carrying a large suitcase and wearing an extremely guilty expression.
“Marina, we need to have a serious conversation,” he began from the doorway without even taking off his jacket. “Mom thinks you went too far, but I’m willing to forgive you if we go back to a normal joint budget.”
“Forgive me?” Marina repeated, folding her arms across her chest. “For doing exactly what you demanded?”
“You can see perfectly well that we can’t live like this!” Igor shouted emotionally. “I’m wasting a fortune on garbage food, eating nothing but dry snacks, and sleeping on my mother’s couch!”
“Those are entirely your problems, Igor,” Marina replied. “You suggested separate finances because you believed I was taking advantage of your income.”
“I was wrong, okay?” her husband muttered. “Let’s contribute together again and live the way we used to!”
“It’s never going to be the way it used to be,” Marina said, shaking her head. “These past few weeks have shown me who you really are.”
“Are you seriously going to destroy our family over a pot of soup?” Igor asked.
“I’m not destroying a family. I’m simply getting rid of a freeloader,” she replied.
Igor tried to walk farther into the hallway, but Marina stepped in front of him.
“I’ve thought about this very carefully,” she said. “This budget experiment showed me one very simple thing. You’re selfish and stingy. You got used to living comfortably at my expense, using my apartment and taking my care for granted.”
“What are you talking about?!” Igor protested. “I’m your lawful husband! I brought money into this household!”
“A real husband takes care of his family and shares responsibilities fairly instead of counting every kopeck spent on toilet paper and parking,” Marina replied.
“So what are you suggesting we do now?” Igor asked.
“I suggest you take your suitcase and leave right now.”
“You’re throwing me out because of food and groceries?”
“No. Not because of groceries,” Marina replied. “Because of your rotten attitude toward me.”
Igor realized that arguing was pointless. He grabbed his suitcase again and stopped near the front door.
“You’re going to regret this!” he shouted angrily. “Who would even want you with such a cold and calculating personality?”
“It seems we’ve begun to forget what real men look like,” Marina replied calmly and evenly, quoting the final line from the classic film Pokrovsky Gates.
After Igor left, Marina immediately changed the locks and blocked his number.
Nina Petrovna took her son back into her home, where she quickly established strict control over his spending. From then on, Igor had to report every kopeck he spent and produce every store receipt for his mother.
His dreams of having unlimited personal spending money collapsed against harsh reality.
Marina, meanwhile, calmly went on her vacation, renovated her apartment, and continued enjoying her life.