After ten years of marriage, I want everything to be split fairly… even now, it still matters. Ten years is not a small thing.

A spreadsheet was open.

My name was listed in the first column.

“Expenses she will cover.”

Rent estimate.
Utilities.
Food.
Insurance.

The total was impossible for someone out of the workforce for ten years.

Beneath it, a note:

“If she can’t pay, she leaves.”

Leaves.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I noticed another tab.

“New proposal.”

I clicked it.

Another woman’s name appeared at the top.

Same building.
Another apartment.

Same future — without me.

I felt the air leave my lungs.

This wasn’t about fairness.

It was about replacement.

That night, sitting across from me on the bed, he spoke in a tone so calm it chilled me.