I regarded her designer blouse, manicured nails, and diamonds. I had funded years of shopping, salons, and dinners because Ryan insisted she deserved luxuries. Neither acknowledged who paid. Their confidence struck me as extraordinary. They had grown so accustomed to the ease of our life that they no longer distinguished Ryan’s earnings from the comforts I provided. It was an arrangement I had never intended to create.
“All right,” I said. “From now on, everyone can cover their own expenses.”
Ryan settled back, visibly pleased.
“I’m glad you finally understand your place.”
Without arguing, I went upstairs and opened my banking app. I immediately disabled Ryan’s supplementary cards, which he used for meals, gas, shopping, and impulse purchases, while I paid the bills.
I canceled gourmet groceries, premium meal preparation, and Linda’s recurring orders of imported cheese, steaks, and desserts. I had paid silently to avoid arguments, never realizing they regarded my generosity as an entitlement. Looking over the recurring charges, I noticed how automatic every payment had become. There was no request, no conversation, and certainly no gratitude; the bills simply appeared and I cleared them.
At nine that night, Ryan came into the dining room and stopped short. There was not a dish on the table.
“Madison! Where’s dinner?”
I looked up from the book I was reading in an armchair.
“I already ate.”
