Ask a couple how they organise money and you tend to get a story rather than a system. One of them opened a joint account years ago. One of them earned more at the time, so they put in more, and that stuck even after it stopped being true. Someone pays for the shopping because they do the shopping. Nobody has ever said out loud what the rule is.
It works, mostly, until something changes. A baby. A pay rise. A change of hours. One of those moments where the arrangement nobody agreed to stops fitting, and the conversation that follows is not really about money at all. It is about whether the other person thinks this is fair, and neither of you has the language for it.
There is no shortage of software for the part that is easy. Budgeting apps are extremely good at categorising what a household spent. Almost none of them help two people decide what their money should do next, which is the part that is actually hard, and the part that requires both people to be in the room.
Feylo started from the other end. Before it calculates anything, it asks each of you separately how you think money should work — not what you spent, but what you believe about contributions, saving, and money of your own. Then it shows you both where you already agree, which is usually further than either of you expected. What is left is a short, specific conversation instead of a vague, recurring one.
What you decide becomes an agreement: written down, in your words, accepted by both of you. Feylo turns it into a monthly plan using your real figures, and then holds you to it, in the sense that it never quietly changes the rules you set. When life changes, you change the facts and the plan follows. When you want to change the arrangement itself, you both have to say so.
That is the whole product. It is deliberately narrow, and deliberately opinionated about one thing only: that the couple decides, and the software does what it was told.