The gilded glow of Nashville’s skyline, once a backdrop for red-carpet romances and Grammy gold, now casts long shadows over one of Music City’s most enduring power couples. On September 30, 2025, Oscar-winner Nicole Kidman, 58, filed for divorce from country crooner Keith Urban, 57, in Davidson County Circuit Court, citing irreconcilable differences after nearly two decades of marriage. But it’s the financial footnotes in the 45-page filing – obtained exclusively by this outlet – that have Hollywood buzzing like a hive of paparazzi drones. Court documents reveal the pair’s staggering combined monthly income: $200,000, split evenly at $100,000 apiece. No alimony. No child support. Just a clean(ish) break for their daughters, Sunday Rose, 17, and Faith Margaret, 14, with Kidman named primary residential parent. As the ink dries on their Marital Dissolution Agreement – notarized in August amid whispers of summer separation – the world wonders: How did fairy-tale love curdle into this calculated carve-up of a $325 million empire?

The filing, a terse three-page complaint tucked into Nashville’s bustling docket, lists their date of separation as the very day of submission, a legal sleight-of-hand that sidesteps asset accrual debates. But the attached exhibits paint a vivid portrait of fiscal fortitude: Kidman’s $100,000 monthly haul from residuals of Big Little Lies marathons, endorsement deals with Chanel and Clé de Peau Beauté, and producer perks from Blossom Films; Urban’s matching $100,000 from tour royalties (*High and Alive World Tour grossed $50 million in 2024 alone), American Idol judging residuals, and songwriting royalties from hits like “Kiss a Girl.” Forbes pegged Kidman’s 2024 earnings at $31 million gross – a testament to her throne atop the highest-paid actresses list – while Urban’s catalog sales and Vegas residencies keep his coffers country-rich. Together, they’ve amassed a net worth north of $325 million: her $250 million war chest from four decades of blockbusters (Moulin Rouge!, The Hours, Babygirl), real estate (a $12 million Sydney harbor pad, a $6.5 million Beverly Hills estate), and savvy investments; his $75 million from 13 studio albums, four Grammys, and that 2022 master recordings sale to Litmus Music for an eight-figure sum.

Yet, beneath the balance sheets lies a love story laced with landmines. Kidman and Urban’s June 25, 2006, wedding in Sydney – a lavish affair with 230 guests under a floral arch, Elton John crooning “Your Song” – was billed as Hollywood’s ultimate redemption arc. She, fresh off a 2001 split from Tom Cruise after 11 childless years and Scientology scrutiny; he, a New Zealand-born Aussie guitar slinger battling cocaine addiction, fresh from rehab just four months post-vows. “She saved me,” Urban later confessed in a 2024 Rolling Stone profile, crediting her unyielding support during his near-relapse in 2010. Their daughters arrived like plot twists: Sunday Rose via surrogate in 2008, Faith Margaret in 2010 – completing a blended brood with Kidman’s adopted kids from Cruise, Bella, 32, and Connor, 30. Publicly, they were untouchable: red-carpet arm candy at the 2025 ACM Awards, courtside smooches at the FIFA Club World Cup in June, her gushing Instagram anniversary post (“Happy Anniversary Baby ❤️ @KeithUrban”) just three months prior. Privately? Insiders whisper of fault lines fracturing under the weight of globetrotting schedules – her Expats shoots in Hong Kong, his arena tours from Alabama to Australia – leaving Nashville’s $3.5 million family manse echoing with absence.

The unraveling, per court whispers and TMZ deep dives, began in earnest this summer. Sources close to the couple – speaking on condition of anonymity – paint a portrait of parallel lives diverging: Urban, post-High and Alive tour wrap in July, retreating to a sleek $2.8 million Green Hills bachelor pad, his garage stocked with vintage Gibsons and a fridge of non-alcoholic brews. Kidman, ever the jet-setter, holed up in their Sydney pied-à-terre with the girls, her phone a lifeline to sister Antonia Kidman, who flew in for “emergency heart-to-hearts.” “Nicole’s devastated – blindsided, really,” one Hollywood publicist confided over rosé at Chateau Marmont. “She fought tooth and nail to save it, couples therapy via Zoom from sets in Morocco. Keith? He checked out months ago. The passion faded; tours and trailers don’t leave room for tenderness.” Urban’s radio awkwardness resurfaced like a bad remix: In a July Mix 102.3 interview, host Max Burford probed his take on Kidman’s steamy A Family Affair smooches with Zac Efron. “What does Keith Urban think… beautiful younger men?” Urban hung up mid-sentence, a curt “Gotta go” echoing his discomfort with her onscreen intimacies – a sore spot since his 2023 Howard Stern admission of early-marriage jealousy over her Nine Perfect Strangers chemistry with Michael Shannon.

Fueling the tabloid tinderbox? Whispers of Urban’s “mystery muse” – a “younger woman in the business,” per Nashville PR insiders to the Daily Mail. “It’s all anyone’s buzzing about in printer’s alley,” one Music Row exec dished. “Blonde, mid-30s, tour-adjacent – maybe a backup singer, maybe more. Keith’s been spotted at low-key honky-tonks, no ring, all grins.” TMZ sources corroborate: “All signs point to another woman. Nicole doesn’t deny it, but she’s shocked – betrayed to her core.” Kidman, stoic in a Vogue Australia cover drop this week (filmed pre-filing, her ice-blue gaze piercing), alluded obliquely: “Love’s a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes, you hit the wall.” Urban, mum since the filing, canceled a Sydney fan meet-and-greet, his team citing “personal matters.” Friends rally: Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds dispatched a care package of Deadpool swag and rosé to Kidman’s Beverly Hills lair; Urban’s got Keith Richards on speed-dial for “those late-night strums that heal.”

Financially, the split’s a masterclass in prenup pragmatism. Their 2006 ironclad agreement – inked weeks before the “I dos” – reportedly nets Urban $900,000 per year of marriage, per Radar Online leaks: a cool $17.1 million windfall for 19 years, shielding his $75 million nest egg from her $250 million Goliath. No spousal support, per the docs: “Both parties waive all claims,” a clause underscoring their mutual mogul status. Child support? Zilch, thanks to joint $200,000 monthly inflows dwarfing Tennessee’s guidelines ($2,000-$3,000 per kid). Assets? A equitable divvy: Kidman keeps the Sydney harborview ($12 million, her pre-marital gift from Cruise), Beverly Hills compound ($6.5 million, joint but “her domain”), and Blossom Films (valued at $50 million post-The Perfect Couple Netflix smash). Urban retains the Nashville estate ($3.5 million, his “songwriting sanctuary”), a $10 million Aspen ski chalet, and his Litmus catalog stake. Shared jets? Sold off, proceeds split 60/40 her favor. Art collection – her Basquiats, his Springsteens – appraised at $20 million, auction-bound if consensus crumbles. “It’s surgical,” a family law expert marveled. “No blood, just bank wires. But emotions? That’s the real estate in play.”

For the daughters – Sunday, a budding equestrian eyeing Vanderbilt; Faith, the artistic firebrand sketching album covers – the docs mandate a “loving, stable” co-parenting blueprint: Urban’s bi-weekly visitations, holidays halved, no badmouthing (“They will encourage each child to love the other parent”). A “Parenting Seminar Order” – mandatory four-hour classes on divorce diplomacy – underscores the stakes. “The girls are resilient, but this? It’s their foundation cracking,” a source close to Sunday shared. Kidman, channeling maternal steel, enrolled them in therapy at Vanderbilt’s Peabody demo school, her Lion co-star Dev Patel dispatching affirming texts: “You’re their rock, Nic.” Urban, penning what insiders call a “post-divorce dirge,” previewed a snippet at a private Ryman Auditorium jam: “We burned bright, now embers glow / Two roads forked where wild winds blow.”

The ripple effects? Seismic. Wall Street wagers on Kidman’s next move: A Big Little Lies Season 3 greenlight? Her Amazon MGM deal, inked for $20 million annually, now eyes expansions into Expats spinoffs. Urban’s High and Alive extension – 20 new dates, $30 million projected – dodges cancellation, but ticket sales spiked 15% on “sympathy streams” of “God Whispered Your Name.” Brand fallout? Chanel stands pat with Kidman ($10 million yearly); Urban’s Quicken Loans gig ($5 million) rolls on. Hollywood’s divorce darlings – Reese Witherspoon ($400 million post-Ryan Phillippe), Jennifer Lopez ($150 million post-Ben Affleck 2.0) – nod knowingly: Splits as springboards. “Nicole’s phoenix phase,” Witherspoon texted pals. “Watch her soar.”

As October’s autumnal haze settles over Nashville’s honky-tonks, Kidman and Urban navigate the no-man’s-land of “amicable acrimony.” She, spotted hiking Runyon Canyon with Antonia, her LBD swapped for athleisure armor; he, strumming at a low-key Bluebird Café open mic, eyes misty under cowboy hat brims. Their June anniversary snap – her head on his shoulder, sunset-kissed – now haunts feeds, a relic of what was. Insiders muse reconciliation: “There’s residual love – therapy’s on the table.” But with filings sealed and fortunes fortified, the fairy tale’s epilogue writes itself: Two empires, untethered, charting solo symphonies. For Kidman and Urban, the real payout? Freedom from the $200,000-a-month merry-go-round – and perhaps, in time, hearts mended richer than any residual check.