When I married Jack, I was full of hope for a long and happy married life. I had lots of plans, ideas, and desires. I was making lists of things that we should definitely do together, where to go, what to see, what dishes to try.
Our honeymoon turned into a honeymoon year. Since Jack was just starting to make money from his investments, the wedding expenses and travel money were taken from my savings and my parents’ help. But I never demanded that he reimburse me for anything like that.
I thought we had a perfect relationship that would last until our silver anniversary and then our golden anniversary. How wrong I was.
Once we were done traveling and fully immersed in work, we were at odds. Life together was not half as beautiful and sweet as I had imagined. Jack was at home more often than not, in the context of his job, but he refused to help with cleaning and cooking, considering it only a “woman’s” job, and he never held a hammer in his hands – I had to call my father for every broken locker door or leaky shower.
As soon as Jack’s work got going, he started to get carried away. Since his salary was higher than mine, it meant that he was smarter, more knowledgeable, more important… My husband, without consulting me, bought himself a cool car, and I bought expensive equipment for the house.
When his behavior became unbearable and his quarrels became constant, we realized that we both would not be happy in such a marriage and decided to divorce. Well, if my husband agreed with me on the decision to divorce, we disagreed on the property: Jack demanded that all the property be divided equally. And this despite the fact that the apartment was bought with my parents’ money, I bought everything in the apartment, paying from my own account.
I did not understand why in the world I should share with him what I earned by honest work? To be fair, I told him that in that case he either owes me half of the car – I don’t care how – or he owes me a refund. If I have to share something with him, then he should share it, too.
