Three weeks passed in a strange and tense silence as if there were a storm brewing in the house waiting for the exact moment to break. One Wednesday, while I was folding laundry in the living room, I heard his voice from the dining room as he sent voice messages to a family group.
“We are celebrating my birthday here on Saturday, so anyone who wants to come is welcome because you know Jade is a fantastic cook,” he bragged. He promised them grilled steaks, baked beans, potato salad, and dessert while I stood still with a shirt in my hands.
He had not asked me or even warned me because he had already decided for both of us like he always did. His plan was to fill the house with twenty hungry relatives to show off again while I worked like I was his personal employee.
That night I pulled out all the supermarket receipts I had saved for two months and checked every transfer and small purchase. I did the math in a notebook to see what I had contributed versus what he had spent on food for his family.