The Frugal Partner

Katie met Simon when she was twenty-eight. She had everything going for her—a slim figure, a pretty face—yet she’d never been in a serious, long-term relationship, though there had been no shortage of suitors.

At university, she hadn’t rushed into marriage like her peers. She believed there was plenty of time. But once she started working, she noticed the men around her were either married or taken. Her only option was to focus on her career.

*”Life will pass you by—you’re not a girl anymore. A career is fine, but don’t forget about your personal life,”* her mother would say.

*”Mum, should I just marry the first man I meet so I can hurry up, have a baby, and get divorced? At least then relatives and friends would stop asking when I’ll settle down,”* Katie retorted.

*”You’ll end up living at work. Look around—aren’t there any decent men left? Surely someone catches your eye?”*

*”Enough, Mum. Or I really will marry the next man I see,”* Katie huffed.

Her mother pursed her lips but secretly asked friends and colleagues if they knew any single men without bad habits.

One morning, the bus was packed as usual. A young man gave up his seat for her. She smiled gratefully. Two days later, they crossed paths again, exchanging smiles like old acquaintances. But before they could properly meet, he got off two stops early.

On her way home one evening, Katie stared absently out the window—until she spotted him at a bus stop, scanning the passing vehicles. Something told her he was looking for *her*. She stepped off.

That’s how they met. Simon was easy to be around. If asked whether she loved him, Katie wouldn’t have said yes. She started seeing him mostly to silence her mother’s nagging. But gradually, she grew fond of him. If she didn’t see him for a few days, she missed him terribly.

He didn’t arrive for dates with lavish bouquets—just small, modest bunches. It was sweet. Two months later, he proposed.

Katie hesitated. It was too fast; she barely knew him. But if she said no, she’d be alone again. Besides, she had to marry *someone*. Why not Simon?

She invited him home to meet her mother, who didn’t seem pleased.

*”What’s wrong now, Mum?”* Katie snapped after he left.

*”He lives with his mother, no flat, no car. Where will you live?”*

*”We’ll rent. You wanted me married—now you’re picky? Men with flats and cars are either taken or divorced. We’ll have everything in time—home, car, children. Sorry he’s not your ideal.”*

*”I suppose you’re right,”* her mother conceded.

They filed for a marriage license and planned a small wedding. When dress shopping, nothing felt right—until Katie found *the one*. It fit perfectly. Expensive, but she bought it without hesitation.

Simon searched for flats, showing her two cheap, cramped options far from the city centre.

*”These are tiny! Guests won’t even fit in the kitchen. And commuting will be a nightmare.”*

*”Then you choose,”* he sulked.

She picked a central flat—walking distance to work, freshly decorated, move-in ready.

*”Taking it?”* the landlady asked.

*”No, too expensive,”* Simon said.

*”Suit yourself. It won’t stay on the market long.”*

Outside, they argued. Simon insisted the price was outrageous; they could rent a two-bed farther out. Katie countered that their combined incomes could afford comfort—no more crammed buses.

They fought bitterly, their first real clash. Katie went home crying.

*”Wedding stress,”* her mother soothed. *”Maybe he’s frugal by habit. Did you ask?”*

*”His mother has a mink coat! He’s just stingy with *me.* Even my ring is tiny.”* She held out her hand.

*”But you liked it!”*

*”Not anymore. If he’s this tight now, what’s next?”*

She doubted marrying him was right. But the venue was booked, the dress bought.

The next day, Simon arrived with flowers, apologised, and said he’d rented *her* chosen flat. Overjoyed, she forgave him.

The wedding was lovely. Guests gave cash gifts—helpful for the future.

The next morning, Simon’s mother visited, praising the flat’s affordability. Katie shot Simon a look. He subtly shook his head—*don’t say anything.*

*”You didn’t tell her the real price?”* Katie asked later.

*”She’d fret. Dad always provided, but she thinks spending leads to ruin.”*

A year later, Katie was pregnant. She eagerly shared the news.

*”Are you sure?”* Simon asked.

*”Aren’t you happy?”*

*”I thought we’d wait a few years. I was planning to finance a car…”*

*”I won’t abort for your car!”*

*”No! I just—it’s sudden.”* He hugged her, backpedalling.

They debated baby names and nursery setups. Katie cooed over tiny outfits online; Simon humoured her. One day, she bought a delicate white set, giddy to show him.

*”Isn’t it perfect? Neutral for either gender. I can’t wait!”*

*”Isn’t it bad luck? And probably costly.”*

*”For our baby? Worth it!”*

At the ultrasound, she called him instantly. *”It’s a boy! You can see his little nose!”*

*”Can’t talk,”* he said, hanging up.

Heart stung, she called her mum instead. That evening, Simon barely glanced at the scan.

Near her due date, contractions struck at dawn. Simon called an ambulance. *”Buy that blue outfit for his homecoming,”* she insisted.

At the hospital, she handed him their son, wrapped in blue. In the car—*their* car—she noticed unfamiliar baby clothes.

*”Whose car is this?”*

*”A colleague sold it cheap. Great deal, right?”*

At home, the crib was secondhand, the pram battered, the clothes all used.

*”Your colleague again?”* she whispered.

*”Mum gave them. Babies outgrow things. He won’t know the difference.”*

*”But *I* do.”*

When Simon offered cheap nappies that left their son rashy, she snapped.

*”You saved on everything for him—but bought yourself a car? ‘Penny-wise, pound-foolish.’ Ever heard that? Tomorrow I’m tossing these rags and buying new.”*

*”Mum will be upset.”*

*”Ah, so *she* supplied this junk? Does she wear hand-me-downs too? I thought you bought modest flowers because you liked them. You’re just cheap.”*

They fought, stewed in silence. The next morning, Simon left without a word.

*”You won’t leave over this?”* her mother asked later.

*”First it’s the crib, then school, hobbies. He’ll raise a resentful child. People don’t change.”*

She stayed—for two years. Then, preparing to return to work post-baby, she asked for a new dress.

*”You have a closet full. Lose weight instead.”*

That was it.

A year later, she met James, who brought roses and doted on her son.

*”You’ll spoil him,”* she warned, used to Simon’s frugality.

*”You can’t spoil someone with love.”*

One day, she saw Simon with a new girlfriend clutching a small bouquet. He nodded awkwardly; she smiled back, unregretful.

A stingy man won’t change. He’ll always save on flowers, on love, on *her*.

Maybe he’d found someone content with dandelions.

And that was fine. *She* wasn’t.

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The Frugal Partner
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