At the restaurant, my husband mocked me with the cheapest meals, “Eat cheap food; Poor woman!”
The Budget Menu
In the days that followed, caught in turmoil, I eventually capitulated. Not wanting to lose him yet stifled by the unfairness of it all, I purchased the smartphones, top of the line, one for each of them.
When I presented the beautifully wrapped gift boxes to Kora and Tyler, their reactions were almost humorous. “Oh Maya, you really didn’t have to,” Kora gushed, her tone laced with a hint of triumph. Tyler, beaming, clapped me on the back. “That’s my girl. Knew you’d come through”.
Hayden’s demeanor suddenly brightened. He hugged me, whispering his thanks, as if the past week’s tension filled with silent meals and cold shoulders had never happened.
Everything unraveled on a seemingly normal day. I was at my desk early, working through my second coffee and scanning lines of code. Mr. Maxwell unexpectedly called us into the conference room.
His voice trembled as he broke the news. “Team, I’ll be direct. The company is bankrupt. We’re closing down, effective immediately”.
The room fell into a stunned silence. Bankrupt—my job, my income, it all seemed to disintegrate before my eyes. I held myself together until I reached home, where I hoped Hayden’s presence might reassure me.
“Hayden,” I began, my voice wavering, “the company, we’re bankrupt. I’ve lost my job”. Initially shocked, Hayden’s face quickly hardened. “You can find another job, right? Something that pays well?”.
His immediate concern for money over my well-being stung, but I brushed it aside. “I’ll try,” I replied, “but it might take some time”.
The ensuing months blurred into a relentless cycle of job applications and interviews. Each mention of my last company’s bankruptcy seemed to taint the interviewer’s perceptions, as if misfortune was infectious.
Our finances dwindled, our savings evaporated, and soon the inevitable happened. We couldn’t afford our apartment’s rent any longer.
Hayden suggested, quite casually, “We should move in with my parents until you find something. It makes sense”.
Living with his parents turned out to be far from easy. Kora and Tyler’s warmth disappeared the moment they realized I was no longer the financial powerhouse I had been.
Meals became tense, peppered with not-so-subtle comments about the hard times and the need for me to contribute more. One evening while I was wrapping up some freelance work, Kora advised, “Maya dear, try to keep the shower short, will you? Water bills aren’t cheap, you know”.
Dinner that night felt like a trial. Before I even began eating, Tyler started, “You know Maya, we’re happy to help you too, but having you here does bring extra expenses. We’re not a bank”.
My fork paused in mid-air. “I understand,” I replied. “I’m trying to find work. It’s just been tough”.
Hayden remained silent, his quiet adding a suffocating weight to the already heavy atmosphere. Hayden’s patience thinned. He snapped over trivial things like unwashed dishes or lights left on.
One evening after another disappointing day of job rejections for me, he exploded. “Why can’t you just find a job?” he yelled. “I’m trying, Hayden. It’s not like I’m not trying,” I shot back, my frustration boiling over. “Well, try harder! This isn’t working. You sitting at home, and I’m stuck here because of you!”.
His words felt like a slap. This was not the same man who had vowed to support me through thick and thin.
Every day, the demeaning comments from Kora about freeloaders and Tyler’s frequent complaints about supporting me chipped away at my spirit. I felt increasingly isolated and trapped.
I longed to call my parents, craving even a few words of comfort in this relentless storm. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell them their daughter was living like this, dependent and despised. It would shatter their hearts.
Kora’s birthday dinner was meant to be a small, cozy affair, an opportunity to celebrate within the close-knit circle of family at a nice downtown restaurant. However, I should have tempered my expectations.
I knew all too well the absence of warmth in what had become a daily battle to preserve my dignity. As we entered the restaurant, the atmosphere was thick with artificial pleasantries.
Kora radiated joy, relishing being the center of attention, while Tyler discussed the pricey wine he planned to order. Hayden was oddly cheerful, laughing exaggeratedly at every minor gesture his parents made.
As we settled at our table and the waiter distributed the menus, I immediately noticed that mine was different—thinner. Perplexed, I opened it to find a significantly more restricted selection.
I glanced around to see Hayden and his parents perusing a variety of gourmet options. “Why do I have a different menu?” I asked, striving to maintain a composed voice.
Hayden peaked at my menu and smirked. “Oh, that’s the budget menu. We thought it would be more suitable for you right now,” he said. Kora laughed lightly, adding, “Yes, with no job, you shouldn’t be looking at the expensive meals. We have to economize somewhere”.
Tyler joined in with a boisterous laugh. “Exactly. Maybe just stick to the bread and water”.
Their words cut deep. Hayden chuckled along with his parents, treating it all as a grand joke. The humiliation scorched my cheeks, and I felt the piercing stares of other diners, some even whispering and pointing their phones in our direction.
“I’m not just some freeloader,” I stood up, my hands trembling. “When I had money, you all loved the gifts I bought. You loved going out and ordering whatever you wanted because I was paying”.
“And now I’m just a burden to you”. The restaurant fell silent, all eyes on our table.
Hayden reached for my arm, attempting to pull me back into my seat. “Maya, stop this now. You’re… you’re overreacting,” he implored.
I jerked my arm away, gathering my purse. “No, I’m done. I’m done being the punchline to your cruel jokes”.
With every eye in the restaurant on us, Hayden and his parents sat frozen, their faces flushed with embarrassment as murmurs filled the air.
