«I’m done lugging all of you around! Not a single penny morefigure out how to feed yourselves!» Poppy shouted, freezing the debit cards.
She pushed open the flat’s door and instantly caught the low hum of voices drifting from the kitchen. Her husband, Harry, was there with his mum, Ethel, who had turned up that morning and, as usual, made the kitchen her headquarters.
«So what’s up with the telly?» Harry was asking.
«It’s ancient,» Ethel complained. «The picture is terrible, the sound drops out. It should’ve been replaced ages ago.»
Poppy slipped off her shoes and stepped into the kitchen. Ethel sat at the table nursing a mug of tea; Harry was fiddling with his phone.
«Ah, Poppy’s here,» Harry said, brightening. «We were just talking about Mum’s TV.»
«What happened to it?» Poppy asked, already weary.
«It’s practically dead. We need a new one,» Ethel said.
Harry put his phone down and fixed his gaze on Poppy. «You’re always the one who sorts this stuff out. Buy Mum a TV. We don’t feel like dipping into our own money.»
Poppy paused midstep, half out of her coat. He’d said it as casually as if he were asking her to pick up a loaf of bread.
«I don’t feel like it either. Do you?» she replied evenly.
«Well, you have a good job and make solid money,» Harry said. «My salary’s small.»
Poppy frowned, studying him to see if he was serious. He was. His expression radiated that smug confidence of a man convinced he’s right.
«I’m not a bank,» she said slowly.
«Oh, come on,» he waved it off. «It’s just one TV.»
She pulled out a chair and sat. Her mind ran through the last few months. Who covered the rent? Poppy. Who bought the groceries? Poppy. Who paid the utilities? Poppy again. Plus the medicines for Ethel’s blood pressure and aching joints. And that renovation loan Ethel had taken outshe’d stopped paying after three months, and Poppy had picked up the installments.
«Remember something?» Harry prompted.
«I remember who’s been footing the bill for this family for the past two years.»
Ethel sighed, sliding into the conversation. «Poppy, you’re the lady of the house; the responsibility is yours. Is it really so hard to buy Harry’s mother a TV? It’s a purchase for the family.»
«For the family?» Poppy echoed. «Where’s this ‘family’ when a bill comes due?»
«It’s not like we do nothing,» Harry objected. «I work, and Mum helps around the house.»
«What help?» Poppy blinked. «Ethel comes over for tea and to list her ailments.»
The motherinlaw bristled. «What do you mean just to talk? I give you advice on how to run a family properly.»
«Advice on how I’m supposed to support everyone?»
«Well, who else would?» Harry asked, genuinely puzzled. «You’ve got steady work and a good income.»
Poppy studied him. He truly believed it was normal for his wife to shoulder the entire household.
«And what do you do with your paycheck?» she asked.
«I save it,» Harry said. «For a rainy day.»
«For what kind of rainy day?»
«You never knowcrisis, layoffs. You need a safety cushion.»
«And where’s my safety cushion?»
«You have a reliable job; they won’t fire you.»
«Maybe it’s time you and your mum decide for yourselves what to buyand with what money,» Poppy said calmly.
Harry smirked. «Why talk like that? You manage money so well. We already try not to burden you with extras.»
«Not burden me?» Heat rose in Poppy’s cheeks. «Harry, do you actually think you’re not a burden?»
«It’s not like we ask for something every day,» Ethel jumped in. «Only when it’s truly necessary.»
«Is a TV truly necessary?»
«Of course! How can you live without one? The news, the programs.»
«You can watch everything online.»
«I don’t understand the internet,» Ethel cut her off. «I need a proper TV.»
The conversation kept looping. To both Harry and his mum, it seemed obvious that Poppy must bankroll everything, while they pinched every last penny for themselves.
«Alright,» Poppy said. «How much is this TV you want?»
«You can get a good one for £400,» Harry brightened. «A big screen, with internet.»
«Four hundred pounds,» Poppy repeated. «Yeah, that’s not much.»
«Harry, do you know how much I pour into our family each month?»
«Well… a lot, I guess.»
«About £700. Rent, groceries, utilities, your mum’s meds, and her loan.»
Harry shrugged. «It’s family. That’s normal.»
«And how much do you contribute?»
«Well… sometimes I buy milk. Bread.»
«Harry, you spend at most £50 a month on the household,» Poppy said, doing the maths. «And not even every month.»
«But I’m saving for a rainy day.»
«Whose rainy day? Yours?»
«Ours, of course.»
«Then why is the money in your personal account and not in a joint one?»
Harry said nothing. Ethel fell silent too.
«Poppy, you’re speaking out of turn,» the motherinlaw finally ventured. «My son provides for the family.»
«With what?» Poppy asked, genuinely baffled. «Ethel, the last time Harry bought groceries was six months agoand only because I was sick and asked him.»
«But he works!»
«And I work. Except my salary goes to everyone, while his goes only to himself.»
«That’s how it’s done,» Harry said, less sure now. «The woman manages the household.»
«Managing the household doesn’t mean carrying everyone,» Poppy shot back.
«So what do you suggest?» Ethel asked.
«I suggest everyone carry their own weight.»
«How is that supposed to be ‘family’?» the motherinlaw cried.
«What about family? Family means everyone contributes, not one person dragging the rest.»
Harry stared at her, bewildered. «Poppy, that’s a strange way to think. We’re husband and wifewe have a joint budget.»
«Joint?» Poppy laughed. «A joint budget is when both people put money into one pot and spend it together. What do we have? I put money in, and you hoard yours.»
«Not hoardI’m saving.»
«For yourself. Because when money’s needed, you’ll spend yours on your own needs, not shared ones.»
«How do you know?»
«I just do. Right now your mum wants a TV. You’ve got £400 saved. Will you buy it for her?»
Harry hesitated. «Well… that’s my savings.»
«Exactly. Yours.»
Ethel tried to steer the conversation. «Poppy, you shouldn’t address your husband like that. A man should feel like the head of the family.»
«And the head of the family should support the familynot live off his wife.»
«Harry does not live off you!» she protested.
«He does. For two years I’ve paid the rent, food, utilities, your meds, and your loan. Harry has been stockpiling money for his personal needs.»
«It’s only temporary,» Harry said defensively. «There’s a crisistimes are tough.»
«Harry, we’ve been in a ‘crisis’ for three years. And every month you shift more onto me.»
«I’m not shifting; I’m asking for help.»
«Help?» Poppy gave a short laugh. «Have you paid the rent even once in the last six months?»
«No, but»
«Did you buy groceries?»
«Sometimes.»
«Harry, buying milk once a month doesn’t count.»
«Well, alright, I didn’t. But I work and bring money into the family.»
«You bring it inand immediately stash it in your personal account.»
«I’m not hiding it; I’m saving it for the future.»
«For your future.»
Ethel jumped back in. «Poppy, what’s gotten into you? You never used to complain.»
«I used to think it was temporary. That my husband would soon start carrying his share of the family expenses.»
«And now?»
«Now I see I’ve been treated like a cash cow.»
«How can you say that!» Harry burst out.
«What else do you call it when one person bankrolls everyone and they still expect gifts?»
«What gifts? A TV is something Mum needs!»
«Harry, if your mum needs a TV, she can buy it. Or you can buy itfrom your savings.»
«But her pension is tiny!»
«And my salarydoes it stretch like rubber?»
«Well, you can afford it.»
«I can. I also don’t want to.»
Silence fell between them. Harry and his mum exchanged a look.
«What do you mean, you don’t want to?» he asked, voice low.
«I mean I’m done being the only one supporting the entire family.»
«But we’re a family; we’re supposed to help each other.»
«Exactlyeach other. Not one person propping up everyone else.»
Poppy rose from the table. It hit her how they saw her: a card that should spit out cash on demand.
«Where are you going?» Harry asked.
«To take care of things.»
Without another word, Poppy pulled out her phone and opened her banking app right at the table. Her fingers moved fastshe blocked the joint card Harry used. Then she switched to transfers and began moving all her savings to a new account she’d opened a month ago, just in case.
«What are you doing?» Harry asked, suddenly cautious.
«Handling my finances,» Poppy said crisply.
He tried to glance at her screen, but she tilted it away. Five minutes later, every pound had been moved to her personal accountone neither her husband nor his mum could touch.
«Poppy, what’s happening?» Harry asked, alarmed.
«What should have happened long ago.»
She opened the card settings and revoked all access but her own. Harry stared, stunned, not yet grasping the scale of what she’d done.
Sensing danger, Ethel leapt up. «What have you done? We’ll be left without money!»
«You’ll be left with the money you earn,» Poppy replied evenly.
«What do you mean, ‘we earn’? What about family? What about a joint budget?» the motherinlaw shrieked.
«We never had a joint budget. There was my budgetand everyone fed off it.»
«You’re out of your mind!» the older woman shouted. «We’re a family!»
Poppy’s voice stayed steady. «From today, we live separately. I’m not obliged to fund your whims.»
«What whims?» Harry protested. «These are necessities!»
«A £400 TV is a necessity?»
«For Mumyes!»
«Then Mum can buy it with her pension. Or you can use your savings.»
Ethel rushed to Harry. «Why are you standing there? Put her in her place! She’s your wife!»
Harry muttered something, eyes fixed on the table, avoiding Poppy’s gaze. He knew she was right but wouldn’t say it.
«Harry,» Poppy said quietly, «do you honestly think I should support your entire family?»
«Well… we’re husband and wife.»
«Husband and wife means partnership. Not one person carrying the rest.»
«But my salary is smaller!»
«Your salary’s smaller, but your savings are biggerbecause you spend them only on yourself.»
Harry fell silent again. Seeing her son wouldn’t push, the motherinlaw lunged forward herself. «Poppy, return the money at once! I’m running out of medicine!»
«Buy it with your own money.»
«My pension is small!»
«Ask your son. He has savings.»
«Harry, give me money for medicine!» she demanded.
Her son hesitated. «Mum, I’m saving that for the family.»
«I am the family!» she snapped.
«But those are my savings.»
«You see?» Poppy said. «When it’s time to spend, everyone’s money magically becomes personal.»
Realising how serious this was, the motherinlaw changed tack. «Poppy, let’s talk calmly. You’re a kind woman; you’ve always helped.»
«I helpeduntil I realized I was being used.»
«You’re not being usedyoure appreciated!»
«Appreciated for whatpaying every bill?»
«For supporting the family.»
«I’m not supporting a family. I’m supporting two ablebodied adults who can work and earn.»
The next morning, Poppy went to the bank and opened a separate account in her name. She printed statements for the past two years showing where the money had gone: groceries, rent, utilities, medicine, and her motherinlaw’s loan. It was all on Poppy.
When she got home, she hauled out a large suitcase and began packing Harry’s thingsshirts, trousers, socksfolding everything neatly.
«What are you doing?» Harry asked when he came home from work.
«Packing your things.»
«Why?»
«Because you don’t live here anymore.»
«What do you mean I don’t? This is my flat too!»
«The flat is in my name. I decide who lives here.»
«But we’re husband and wife!»
«For now, yes. Not for long.»
Poppy rolled the suitcase into the hallway and held out her palm. «The keys.»
«What keys?»
«To the flat. All sets.»
«Poppy, are you serious?»
«Absolutely.»
Reluctantly, Harry handed them over. Poppy checkedmain set and spare.
«Does your mum have a set?»
«Yes, she drops by sometimes.»
«Call her. Tell her to return them.»
«Why?»
«Because Ethel no longer has the right to enter my home.»
An hour later, the motherinlaw arrived. She understood instantly when she saw the suitcase in the hallway.
«What does this mean?» she demanded.
«It means your son is moving out.»
«Moving where? This is his home!»
«This is my home. And I’m done supporting freeloaders.»
«How dare you!» the motherinlaw exploded.
«I dare. Hand over the keys.»
«What keys?»
«To the flat. I know you have a duplicate.»
«I won’t give them back!»
«Then I’ll call the police.»
She raised a fullblown ruckusscreaming that Poppy was tearing the family apart, that you dont treat relatives like that, that she’d always thought her daughterinlaw was a good girl.
«The good girl is gone,» Poppy said calmly, and dialed.
«Hello, we need assistance. Former relatives refuse to return my flat keys and are refusing to leave the premises.»
Half an hour later, two officers arrived. They reviewed the situation and checked the property documents.
«Ma’am,» they said to the motherinlaw, «return the keys and leave the flat.»
«But my son lives here!»
«Your son isn’t the owner and has no right to dispose of the property.»
With witnesses present, the older woman fished the keys from her purse and flung them on the floor.
«You’ll regret this!» she shouted as she left. «You’ll end up alone!»
«I’ll be alonewith my own money,» Poppy replied.
Harry silently picked up the suitcase and followed his mum out. At the door he turned.
«Poppy, maybe you’ll reconsider?»
«There’s nothing to reconsider.»
A week later, Poppy filed for divorce. There was hardly any joint property to splitthe flat had always been hers, and the car had been bought with her own money. Nothing to divide.
Harry called, asked to meet, begged to talk. He promised everything would change, that he’d cover all the expenses himself.
«Too late,» Poppy said. «Trust doesn’t return.»
«But I love you!»
«Do you love meor my wallet?»
«You, of course!»
«Then why did you live off me for three years without a flicker of shame?»
Harry had no answer.
The divorce went through quicklyHarry didn’t contest it; he knew resistance was pointless. The court dissolved the marriage.
For another month, Ethel rang Poppy’s phonecrying, threatening, then asking for money for medicine. Poppy listened in silence and hung up.
«My blood pressure is up because of you!» the motherinlaw complained.
«Ask your son to treat youhe has savings.»
«He says he’s sorry to spend the money!»
«Wonderful. Now you understand how I felt for three years.»
Six months later, Poppy ran into Harry at the supermarket. He looked worn out; his clothes had lost their crispness.
«Hi,» he said awkwardly.
«Hello.»
«How are you?»
«Great. You?»
«Fine I’m living with Mum for now.»
«I see.»
«You know, I realized I was wrong. I really did dump too much onto you.»
«You realized?»
«Yes. Now I pay for all Mum’s expenses myself, and I see how hard it is.»
«But you have savings.»
«I had. I spent them on her medicine and repairs to her flat.»
«And? Does it hurt to spend it?»
Harry paused, then admitted, «It does. A lot.»
«Now imagine doing that for three straight years.»
«It hurts. Forgive me.»
«I already have. It doesn’t change anything.»
«What if I make it right? Become a different man?»
«Harry, you only ‘became different’ when my money disappeared from your life. That’s not changethat’s pressure.»
«But I’ve learned my lesson!»
«You learned it only when you had to pay yourself. If I’d kept covering everything, you’d never have learned anything.»
He nodded. Poppy was right.
«I have to go,» she said, heading to the checkout.
At home, Poppy brewed tea and sat by the window with a book. The flat was quietno one demanding money for TVs, medicine, or anything else. The balance in her account belonged solely to her. No one dictated how to spend it.
When she’d closed the door behind her exhusband six months earlier, she’d felt light for the first time in years. Freedom from financial parasites was worth more than any blood tie. Now every pound she spent was a choice, not coercion.
Poppy never again let anyone climb onto her shoulders. She learned to say «no» without guilt andFrom that day on, she lived on her own terms, savoring the simple freedom of a life she finally owned.
