“What do you mean, were splitting up?” the man asked his wife, blinking in surprise. “Because I gave some money to my mum?”
“Nineteen thousand pounds!” Emma flung the bank statement onto the table, watching the sheets scatter across the surface. “Jonathan, wheres the money?!”
Her husband didnt even bother looking up from the telly, still flicking through channels.
“What money?” he muttered absently.
“The money weve been saving for three years for our deposit! Yesterday there was twenty-two thousand five hundred, today theres three and a half!”
Jonathan finally glanced up, shrugging as if discussing the weather.
“Oh, that Mum and Sarah needed some help. Was I supposed to say no?”
“Did you ASK me?! That was our joint savings!”
“Relax, will you? Ill pay it back.”
“When? In a decade?” Emma planted her hands on the table, leaning in. “Jonathan, we agreedno spending from that account without discussing it. NOTHING!”
“Yeah, yeah, agreed But when your own mother asks, what am I supposed to do, refuse her?”
“And when your wifes been working twelve-hour days for three years, that means nothing? Thats MY money too!”
Jonathan grimaced and turned back to the telly.
“Dont be dramatic. Its just a normal job.”
Six months earlier, Emma had been at her desk in the travel agency, meticulously tallying commission from her latest holiday package sale. The numbers pleased herthe group had been large and well-paying.
Her coworker, Lisa, peered over the monitor.
“Still crunching numbers? Saving up for that dream flat?”
“Another year, maybe eighteen months, and well have our own place,” Emma smiled, setting down her pen. “Jonathans been picking up extra shifts at the garage on weekends too.”
“Lucky you, having a husband who pulls his weight. Mine just makes promises and never follows through.”
“Yeah, Im lucky,” Emma agreed, though a nagging voice whispered otherwise.
Lisa scooted her chair closer.
“How much have you saved, if you dont mind me asking?”
“Twenty-one grand. Not far off the twenty-five we need.”
“Brilliant! Where are you keeping it? In a savings account?”
“Course, a fixed-term one. The interest isnt much, but its something.”
“Smart. Just dont blow it on something daft.”
Emma nodded but didnt mention how Jonathan had been complaining of exhaustion lately, skipping his extra shifts.
That evening, she found him sprawled on the sofa, glued to some action film.
“Jon, didnt you have a shift at the garage today?” she asked, kicking off her heels in the hallway.
“Going tomorrow. My backs killing me.”
“Maybe see a doctor?”
“Stop fussing, itll pass.” He changed the channel. “Mum rang, by the way. Sarah needs cash for her beauty course.”
Emma froze, her hand still clutching her handbag.
“How much?”
“Just fifteen hundred. Barely anything.”
“Barely anything?! Jon, thats my monthly bonus!”
“Dont shout. Im not touching the savings. Ill cover it from next months pay.”
“And if your salary doesnt cover it?”
“It will, stop overreacting.”
Emma reheated dinner in silence, her appetite gone. Unpleasant thoughts swirledhow many times had his family “borrowed” money now?
Two weeks later, it happened again with eerie precision. Jonathans mum, Patricia, called during dinner.
“Hello, Mum?” He put her on speakerphone, still shovelling food. “Yeah, go on Leaking? Badly? Seven-fifty? Fine, Ill drop it off tomorrow.”
Emma slowly set down her fork.
“Jonathan, we agreedmortgage first, everything else later.”
“Oh, so youd rather let my mums flat flood? Heartless, much?”
“Im not heartless,” she said evenly. “But your brother Daniel lives next door. Why cant he help?”
“Dans unemployed, you know that.”
“Unemployed? In this job market?”
Jonathan finally looked up from his plate.
“Listen, dont start. Shes my mum, Ill help her, end of.”
“And Im your wife,” Emma said quietly. “Does that mean anything?”
“Course it does. But Mums got a leak”
“What about our future?”
“Itll happen. We wont starve over seven hundred quid.”
A month later, Emmas boss, Mr. Thompson, called her in.
“Emma, take a seat. You handled that corporate group brilliantly. Theres a nice bonus comingtwenty-five hundred.”
“Thank you,” she said, genuinely pleased.
“But Ive noticed youve been taking all the overtime, working weekends. Youre not burning out, are you?”
“No, its fine. Were saving for a flat, every penny counts.”
“Admirable, but healths more important than any property.”
Emma nodded but thought privately that without her overtime, theyd never save enoughJonathan kept “lending” to his family.
“Mr. Thompson, any extra tasks going? Maybe someones holiday cover?”
Her boss studied her.
“There is, but youre stretched thin already.”
“Ill manage.”
At home, she found Jonathan with his mate Dave, both laughing over beers.
“Oi, Emmas back!” Dave raised his bottle. “Join us!”
“Thanks, Im knackered,” she muttered, heading for the fridge.
“Jon was just saying how youre saving for a flat. Proper grown-up stuff. I keep meaning to start.”
“Because you keep gambling on crypto,” Jonathan snorted. “Thinking youll strike it rich overnight.”
“Long-term investments! In a year or two, Ill be loaded!”
“Yeah, right. How many times have you struck rich now?”
Emma retreated to the bedroom, unable to stomach their get-rich-quick chatter.
Later, Jonathan slouched in.
“Whats your problem?”
“I worked twelve hours today, Jon. Youre drinking with Dave.”
“Sorry my mate dropped by. Not allowed to relax now?”
“You can. Id just prefer it if you relaxed after work, not instead of it.”
“Here we go again.”
“When was your last garage shift?”
Jonathan turned to the window.
“Last week.”
“Last week you were hungover after your brothers birthday.”
“Christ, stop monitoring me! Dont like it? Get a divorce!”
Jonathans sister Sarah showed up unannounced a week later.
“Hiya, sis-in-law!” she chirped, barging in. “Jon home?”
“On the sofa,” Emma said flatly, not turning from the stove.
“Jon! Need a favour!” Sarah flopped next to him. “Im skinturgent cash needed!”
“Again? I gave you money last week for that course.”
“This is different! Found pro makeup kit half-price! Cant miss this!”
“How much?” Jonathan sighed.
“Just twenty-five hundred! Its an investment!”
“Twenty-five HUNDRED?!” Emma spun around. “Sarah, thats insane!”
“Nobody asked you!” Sarah snapped. “Jon, please! Ill pay you back with interest!”
“Sarah, were strapped”
“Always skint! Saving like misers while family suffers!”
“Youre joking, right?” Emma said. “Weve scrimped for three years!”
“Boring! You both earn loads but wont share!”
After she left, Jonathan went out to smoke. Patricia rang an hour later.
“How dare you refuse your sister?” she shrilled. “Shes trying to better herself!”
“Mum, were broke right now.”
“Broke? For FAMILY? Emmas turning you against us!”
“Mum, its not”
“She married you and thinks she owns you! Forgotten who raised you?”
Emma listened from the kitchen, sickened. Shed poured everything into those savings, and now she was the villain.
Next morning, neighbour Edward stopped her in the hallway.
“Morning, Emma! Heard youre saving for a flat. Smartprices keep climbing.”
“Yeah, three years of penny-pinching.”
“Respect. Saw your husband at the bank yesterdaymortgage chat?”
Emma froze.
“Loan? Youre sure it was Jon?”
“Tall bloke in a navy jacket? Definitely. Signed some papers. Getting close, eh?”
“Suppose so,” she mumbled, hurrying off.
At work, she couldnt focus.
“Emma, youre miles away,” Lisa said. “Everything okay?”
“Just busy,” she lied.
That evening, she checked their account. Twenty-two thousand five hundredstill intact. Maybe Edward was mistaken.
But Jonathan kept skipping work, citing headaches or back pain
