“So what? I just added a little variety to my life,” her husband said.
Rita had not been looking for a reason to get divorced—it found her on its own, in the form of her husband’s twenty-five-year-old colleague, Valeria.
Apparently, Valeria had grown tired of being the other woman in Alexei’s life—Alexei being Margarita’s husband—and decided to stake her claim on him.
She did it in the most ordinary way possible: she sent Rita a dozen photographs showing Valeria and Alexei together in poses and situations that required no explanation. Everything was perfectly clear.
The photographs landed across the kitchen table like a fan of playing cards.
Margarita had been staring at them for ten minutes, and with every passing minute, the scenes captured in them seemed increasingly disgusting.
Here were Alexei and Valeria leaving a restaurant, his arm wrapped around her waist. Here they were kissing in some park. Here they were sitting in a car, their expressions leaving little doubt about what they intended to do as soon as they were alone.
The young woman had chosen the simplest possible approach: she sent the evidence directly to the wife. No comments, no captions—just an envelope containing photographs left in the mailbox.
Valeria had calculated correctly. Rita had no intention of continuing to live with Alexei after such a betrayal.
In fact, she was so furious with her husband that she briefly considered greeting him after work with her grandmother’s old cast-iron frying pan. She had never thrown it away because it made excellent pancakes.
But after giving it some thought, Margarita decided not to begin with a scandal. Instead, she would begin with a visit to a lawyer.
She called her friend Yulia.
“Are you going to divorce him? Are you sure?” Yulia asked.
“There’s no other option.”
“You’re right not to make a scene yet. First, talk to a lawyer. I know a woman named Elena Viktorovna. She specializes in divorces. Do you want her number?”
“Send it to me.”
Elena Viktorovna turned out to be a calm woman of about fifty who, judging by her manner, had long since stopped being surprised by anything.
Rita came to her with all the documents she had managed to gather: their marriage certificate, the birth certificates of their children—Sasha was ten and Nastya was six—the apartment purchase agreement, and bank statements.
“Your situation is fairly straightforward,” Elena Viktorovna said after looking through the papers. “The apartment was purchased with a mortgage, and the loan has been paid off, so the property is divided equally. However, your parents correctly documented the money they gave you for the down payment—four hundred thousand—as a gift specifically to you, with the purpose of the payment stated. That means the four hundred thousand is deducted from the total value first, and only the remainder is divided.”
“I understand,” Rita said, nodding.
“What about the car?” Elena Viktorovna asked.
“We bought it three years ago.”
“Then that is divided equally as well. Do you have any other property?”
“A country house. But I inherited it from my grandmother.”
Elena Viktorovna nodded approvingly.
“The country house remains yours. Did your husband build anything there? A veranda or gazebo? Did he repair the roof?”
“No. He visited about five times in all the years we owned it, mostly to grill meat with his friends. I’m not interested in gardening either, so we were planning to sell it.”
“It is fortunate that you did not rush. If you sell it now, all the money will belong exclusively to you.” The lawyer made a note in her notebook. “Now, about child support. Do you know exactly how much your husband earns?”
Rita sighed.
“It varies. I have never seen his entire salary. Whenever I told him we needed money for groceries or clothes for the children, he transferred whatever amount I asked for.”
“I see. We’ll deal with that issue later. But we’ll apply for child support immediately. The divorce will take at least two months, while you can begin receiving support as soon as the court issues its order. That should take no more than a week. Do you have anywhere else to live besides this apartment?”
“No.”
“Keep in mind that you have the right to remain in the apartment until it is sold, especially since the children will be living with you.”
Rita left the lawyer’s office feeling as though an army had assembled behind her.
It was a strange sensation—being prepared for a war she had never declared.
Alexei received the divorce papers after returning from a business trip. Rita had deliberately chosen that moment so that he would not be able to cause a scene immediately.
He came home that evening and walked into the kitchen.
“Rita, what on earth has gotten into you? Have you lost your mind?” His voice sounded outraged, as though he had been subjected to some unimaginable injustice.
Without saying a word, Rita placed the photographs in front of him.
Alexei picked them up and looked through them. Then he looked again.
He remained silent for about five minutes, unable to find the right words.
Finally, he said:
“So what? I added a little variety to my life. I had some fun. Are you really going to divorce me over that?”
“You don’t think it’s a reason?” Rita asked calmly, even though she was boiling inside.
“Let’s talk about this calmly.”
“We are talking calmly.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not hitting you in the face, even though you deserve it. I’m not throwing a hysterical fit because that isn’t in my nature. And by the way, had you simply told me that you were no longer interested in me, I would have let you go without demanding an explanation.”
Alexei grimaced as though he had a toothache.
“Do you understand how difficult it will be for you to live on your salary alone with two children? I won’t give you any more than the law requires. And we’ll have to divide the apartment. I’ll be able to buy a one-bedroom apartment with my half. But the three of you will be rather cramped in a place like that. So think carefully. You’re the one who decided to get divorced—don’t expect any help from me.”
“All right,” Rita replied calmly. “That’s exactly how I’ll explain it to the children.”
“And remember, besides the apartment, we’ll also divide the maternity capital. It belongs to every member of the family.”
Rita smiled.
“That’s where you’re mistaken. Had we used the maternity capital to pay off the mortgage, then yes, you might have been entitled to a share. But since it has not been used, it remains with the children and me. So don’t count on it.”
Alexei’s face turned crimson.
“I won’t give you a divorce. I’ll drag the court proceedings out until you get tired of attending the hearings.”
“Thank you for warning me. I’ll keep that in mind.”
He slammed the door so hard that the cups in the kitchen rattled.
The following day, while Rita and the children were away from home, Alexei collected his belongings.
Rita did not know where he was living now. Most likely, he had moved in with his mother, because over the following week, her mother-in-law, Angelina Andreyevna, called Rita almost every day.
She tried to convince Rita that Alexei had not done anything terrible, that such things simply happened in life, and that Rita was committing a crime by depriving her children of their father. At Rita’s age, she said, she ought to “be wiser.”
In other words, she used the standard arsenal of arguments.
“Rita, you must understand that being a single woman with two children is not easy. Right now you are offended, and you want to hurt Lyosha in return. But later you’ll realize that you behaved foolishly. By then, it will be too late!” her mother-in-law said.
Eventually, Rita blocked her number.
Alexei failed to appear at the first court hearing. He submitted a certificate stating that he was away on a business trip.
He appeared at the second hearing looking gloomy, as though attending were an enormous favor.
He claimed that he wanted to preserve the family and asked the court to give them time for reconciliation. He also said that he wanted to raise the children himself.
He did not really want the children. He wanted to hurt Rita.
She understood that perfectly.
The court gave them one month.
Alexei failed to appear at the third hearing as well, this time submitting a doctor’s note.
He was deeply surprised when the divorce was granted that very day.
The judge was an elderly woman who had encountered plenty of men like Alexei throughout her career. After his second absence, she granted Rita’s petition.
The property-division proceedings dragged on for another two months.
But everything was divided exactly as Elena Viktorovna had predicted: the apartment was divided equally after deducting the four hundred thousand provided by Rita’s parents, the car was divided equally, and the country house remained Rita’s property.
The child-support issue, however, caused problems.
Alexei worked for a company owned by a former classmate, which gave him the opportunity to conceal his true income.
His official salary turned out to be extremely small.
As a result, Rita began receiving only twenty thousand a month for both children.
“Rita, it’s obvious that Lyosha doesn’t earn only sixty thousand!” Yulia said indignantly over the phone. “He drives a decent car, buys clothes from boutiques, eats at restaurants, and flies abroad on vacation! Are you really going to leave things as they are?”
“What can I do?” Rita replied wearily. “The court ordered him to pay one-third of all his official earnings. The accounting department transfers one-third. The accountant isn’t breaking the law. I don’t know what kind of arrangement Lyosha and his friend came up with. And even if I did, I’d still have to prove it.”
“Then you need to prove it!”
“I don’t have time for that right now, Yulia. I need to sell the apartment and find another place to live.”
Their three-bedroom apartment sold quickly. It was in a good neighborhood and had been renovated well.
A month later, the money was in their accounts.
Selling the country house was more difficult. People came to look at it, compared prices, and considered buying it, but no one made an offer.
Rita decided not to wait. She took out a mortgage on a two-bedroom apartment and used the maternity capital.
The process took two months.
Fortunately, she managed to buy an apartment in the same neighborhood where they had lived before. Sasha continued attending the same school, and Nastya remained at the kindergarten she was accustomed to.
Eventually, the country house was sold as well.
With that money, Rita was able to pay off nearly the entire mortgage.
Elena Viktorovna also helped her with the child-support problem.
“Pretend that you have accepted the situation,” the lawyer advised. “Let your husband relax. Meanwhile, spend the next year gathering evidence.”
Rita followed her advice.
She remained silent, avoided arguments, and did not provoke any confrontations.
Alexei calmed down, became careless, and returned to living the way he always had, without limiting his pleasures.
But in the modern world, it is difficult to hide anything.
With the lawyer’s help, Rita obtained tax information and records of activity in Alexei’s bank accounts. Even photographs from social media proved useful.
They discovered that over the previous six months, Alexei had traveled abroad twice—to the Dominican Republic and the Maldives. He had also purchased a premium-class car and generally maintained a lifestyle that was completely inconsistent with the tiny salary from which child support was being calculated.
Elena Viktorovna helped Margarita prepare a new lawsuit and contacted the owner of the company.
At first, the owner pretended that he had no idea what she was talking about.
But the lawyer explained that the tax authorities had a long reach and that if the matter led to an audit, everyone would have problems.
Friendship was one thing, but protecting oneself was more important.
The company owner provided documentation confirming Alexei’s real salary.
The court recalculated the child-support payments.
At last, Rita could breathe freely.
The entire process had taken almost a year.
But now she and the children lived peacefully. They were not wealthy, but she no longer experienced the constant humiliation of asking for money to buy tights for her daughter while her husband looked at her as though she were taking the last shirt off his back.
Things did not go well for Alexei.
He did not lose his job—his former classmate was not vindictive—but his colleagues began looking at him differently.
Now everyone knew that he was no hero. They knew that he had concealed his income to avoid paying proper child support and had abandoned his wife with two children.
He bought an apartment, but it was only a one-bedroom place in a residential district, and he had to take a bus to reach the subway.
He could not afford anything better.
Valeria, whose actions had started the entire story, resigned from the company a month after Rita and Alexei divorced.
She disappeared, stopped answering Alexei’s calls, and removed him from her social-media contacts.
Alexei was no longer of interest to her.
A man with a small one-bedroom apartment, substantial child-support obligations, and a damaged reputation was no longer the kind of partner she had dreamed about.
She found someone else quickly.
Women like Valeria did not stay alone for long.
Alexei was left by himself.
There was no wife waiting to cook dinner for him.
There were no children running to greet him when he came home from work.
Once a month, he transferred the child-support payment—now a proper and substantial amount.
And once a month, he called the children.
Ten-year-old Sasha already understood everything and spoke to his father briefly, answering in only a few words.
Six-year-old Nastya still missed him.
“Daddy, why don’t you live with us?”
“That’s just how things turned out, sweetheart.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Not anytime soon.”
Nastya would sigh and hand the phone to her mother.
Sometimes Rita wondered why Alexei had started any of this.
For the sake of a few entertaining evenings?
For a woman who, only a month later, could barely remember his name?
He had lost his home, his family, and the respect of his children and colleagues.
And what had he gained?
A cramped one-bedroom apartment.
People whispering behind his back.
Silence in the evenings.
But what was done was done.
Alexei had made his choice.
He had no one to blame but himself.
