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

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.

“I need a partner, not a liability.”

“Since when am I a liability?” I asked.

He avoided my eyes.

“I want someone on my level.”

On my level.

Ten years ago, when I earned more than he did, that “level” had never been a problem.