Half of a Whole

My eyebrows drew together when Jim Sully said that.

Was I hearing things?

I had heard of married couples splitting the costs of raising kids, groceries, utilities, and the mortgage.

But this was the first time I had ever heard of someone splitting the cost of emotional support.

Marriage was about the relationship between two people, and both partners had to put effort into the relationship every day.

This wasn't about splitting expenses anymore. This was robbery!

"Then tell me. What exactly counts as emotional support?" I asked.

Jim slapped the dining table and snorted. "Listen carefully. I'm going to show you exactly how much you've taken advantage of me over the past three years!"

I never expected him to actually pull out a bill. It was a thick stack of papers with "Emotional Support I Had Provided" written across the front.

Unbelievable!

I knew Jim was a penny-pincher who counted every dollar, but I never imagined he would take it this far.

He could seriously put a price on feelings?

I flipped through his emotional support bill.

It started with the first smile he had given me while trying to win me over. Then there was the hug he had given me when we had officially started dating.

For our wedding photos, he spent 30 minutes at the studio getting his groom's makeup done.

I waved him off. "Why does getting your makeup done for our wedding count as emotional support for me?"

Jim tapped the paper with his pen. "If I weren't marrying you, would I have wasted 30 minutes getting dressed up? Didn't I do it to make you happy?"

So he wouldn't have bothered making himself presentable if he had been marrying someone else?

When I started to protest, Jim cut me off.

"Don't twist my words! Whenever I smiled at you, comforted you, and told you I loved you, that was emotional support I provided. That also includes the time I spent with you or thinking about you. You got to enjoy all of that, so you have to pay up!"

As he spoke, he pulled a calculator from the drawer and started punching in numbers.

"At the current market rate, an hour of conversation costs 45 dollars.

"Half a day of shopping together without getting dressed up costs 200 dollars, while half a day with me all dressed up costs 350 dollars.

"It's 50 dollars each time I help you fall asleep. Based on the going rate for a therapist, comforting you costs 200 dollars an hour."

People said a man was at his most attractive when he was serious. However, watching him seriously calculate every dollar sent a chill through me.

Finally, after an hour of painstaking calculations, Jim put down his pen.

"I'll let everything I did for you while we were dating slide. As for the three years we were married, the total comes to 886,666 dollars."

I was rendered completely speechless.

"Oh my goodness! You're so good at math, you silly thing."

I deliberately put on a sweet, mocking voice to humor him.

He didn't seem bothered and lifted his chin. "Enough with the sarcasm. You've got 1 million dollars, so you can afford it."

I frowned slightly and clicked my tongue. "Honey, how could 886,666 dollars possibly cover all the emotional support? It should be paid for with emotions."

My smile faded as I held out my hand.

"Calling you 'you silly thing' is 50 dollars each time, while 'honey' costs 500 dollars a time. Using a sweet voice on you costs an extra 100 dollars. Would you like to pay through Venmo or Zelle?"

I never expected following Jim's own rules to make him explode with rage.

"Mabel Lennard! I'm your husband. Are you trying to rob me? Stop twisting everything around! How can emotions possibly be something you charge for?"

My face immediately hardened. "If you can put a price on emotions, then why can't I use them to pay up? Who's the one twisting things around here?"

Jim's expression hardened, too. "The emotional support I give you isn't worth the same as the emotional support you give me!"