“And I never asked to be treated like a partner instead of a wife,” I replied, standing up and heading to our room to retrieve my bag. Thomas followed me. “You know what’s funny? I didn’t even include emotional labor in that bill. The listening, the supporting, the remembering of birthdays, the managing of holidays, and the nurturing of our relationships with friends and family. If I had, the bill would be much higher.”

I pulled my packed bag out of the closet, and Thomas’ eyes widened.

“What are you doing?” His voice had lost its strength, uncertainty creeping into him.

“I’m leaving,” I said simply. “I’ll be at Lisa’s for a few days. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer about our options for the future.”

“A lawyer?” His face paled. “You’re getting divorced over a few Venmo requests?”

I shook my head. “Not for the demands themselves. For what they represent. About the fact that somewhere along the way, you stopped seeing us as partners and started seeing us as two separate entities sharing space and resources.”

“Andrea, this is insane. We can talk about it,” he pleaded, following me as I headed out the door. “Maybe I went too far with the Wi-Fi, but…”

“The Wi-Fi was just my wake-up call, Thomas,” I said, turning to face him one last time. “It was never about money. It was about building a life together, not just sharing an address.”

With that, I walked out the door, got in my car, and drove away. In my rearview mirror, I could see Thomas standing in our doorway, the bill still clutched in his hand, looking lost and confused.

A part of my heart contracted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Our marriage wasn’t supposed to end. But it was for the best. Our differences were too great to overcome.

I didn’t believe Thomas could change. He might appease me for a while, but then he’d start squeezing every cent out of me again and extorting everything he could. I couldn’t let him do that… ever again.