“Why didn’t you bring the money today?” Igor asked his wife in surprise.
“You’re going to love it, sweetheart. It’s the best transforming robot in the whole store,” a voice came from behind the shelves.
Ekaterina was placing children’s socks into her shopping basket when she heard a familiar voice in the next aisle. Her husband’s voice. She froze and listened.
Through the toy shelves, Ekaterina saw Igor. He was holding an expensive robot—the exact kind their four-year-old son Anton had been dreaming about. Beside Igor stood an unfamiliar woman of about thirty with a boy who looked around three years old.
“You’re so kind to us,” the woman said, gently kissing Igor on the cheek. “Thank you.”
The kiss lasted far too long to be a simple expression of gratitude. There was intimacy, familiarity, and closeness in it.
“Anything for you and little Dima,” Igor replied, stroking the boy’s head.
Ekaterina stepped back around the corner, trying not to breathe. Just the previous evening, Igor had refused to buy Anton the new boots the boy had been asking for for a month.
“Money doesn’t grow on trees,” he had told his son. “Your old boots will last a little longer. Stop being difficult.”
Yet now he had easily spent eight thousand rubles on a toy for someone else’s child. Without hesitation and with a smile.
Ekaterina hurried toward the exit, abandoning the basket of socks. In her pocket was an envelope containing her salary—ninety thousand rubles. That evening, she was supposed to give seventy percent of it to her husband, just as she had done for the past four years. They had agreed on this after the wedding: Igor would manage the family budget and distribute their expenses.
“A man should be the head of the family,” he had insisted at the time.
Igor returned home at his usual time. He kissed Ekaterina on the forehead, played with Anton for five minutes, and settled down in front of the television.
“Anything new at work?” Ekaterina asked as she took out the envelope.
“Nothing unusual. Management is driving everyone crazy with its demands,” he replied without taking his eyes off the screen.
Ekaterina handed him sixty-three thousand rubles instead of the usual sixty-five. Igor counted the money and frowned.
“Two thousand is missing.”
“I spent it on things for Anton. He needs vitamins.”
“Warn me next time,” Igor grumbled, putting the money into his wallet. “I don’t like surprises when it comes to the budget.”
“Igor, what about Anton’s boots? It’s already October. The rainy weather will start soon.”
“I’ll buy them this weekend. I definitely will. Don’t worry.”
“And his jacket? Last year’s one is already too small.”
“I’ll buy the jacket too. Don’t worry, everything will be taken care of. You know I always keep my word.”
Ekaterina nodded. Her money had already been spent on the boy from the store. On “little Dima.”
“By the way,” Igor added casually, “people at work are collecting money for a present for Natalia Viktorovna. She’s a single mother, and things are difficult for her. Her birthday is coming up.”
The name Natalia sent a stab of pain through Ekaterina’s chest. She remembered the unfamiliar woman’s tender kiss. It had not looked anything like a collection for a struggling colleague.
“How much do you need?” she asked evenly.
“About five to seven thousand. We want to buy her something decent. A necklace or earrings.”
Seven thousand for a necklace for his “colleague,” yet he had resented spending two thousand on vitamins for his own son.
“Take it from the family money,” Ekaterina said.
“I already took it yesterday. In advance, so to speak.”
Ekaterina remained silent throughout the evening, secretly studying her husband. Igor noticed and looked up from his phone, where he had been busily messaging someone.
“You’re acting strange today,” he said with mild irritation. “Did something happen? Problems at work?”
“I’m just tired. Ordinary autumn blues.”
“Take some valerian. Or motherwort. You’re walking around looking gloomier than a storm cloud.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Ekaterina replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.
“You’re welcome, darling,” Igor said dismissively before returning to his phone.
The next day, Ekaterina took time off work and went to her husband’s office. She sat on a bench in the small park across the street and waited. At six in the evening, Igor emerged from the building with the same woman. Holding hands, they walked to a café across the road.
Through the window, Ekaterina watched them eat dinner. Natalia touched Igor’s hand several times, and they laughed together. Igor showed her something on his phone, and she clapped her hands excitedly. When they came outside, Igor kissed her on the lips for a long time, right there in the street.
Everything became perfectly clear.
That evening, Ekaterina took Anton to her mother’s house, lying that she had urgent work to do. “You’ll stay with Grandma until tomorrow, sweetheart,” she told her son. “Mommy has to visit Aunt Sveta about something important.”
“Won’t Daddy miss us?” Anton asked.
“Daddy… Daddy probably won’t even notice,” Ekaterina answered honestly.
Svetlana opened the door with tear-swollen eyes and disheveled hair.
“Come in quickly. I’ve been crying over my miserable life,” she said, embracing her friend. “It looks like both of us are in trouble.”
“What happened to you?”
“That damned Nikolai. It turns out he’s been having an affair for six months. Today he announced that he was leaving me for her. Apparently, she understands him, while all I do is nag him.”
They sat in the kitchen drinking strong tea with cognac. Ekaterina told her in detail what she had seen in the store and outside Igor’s office.
“Men are complete bastards,” Svetlana concluded as she poured more cognac. “But don’t make any sudden moves, Katya. Think carefully. You have a child, and your job isn’t especially secure. Maybe you should try to fix things. Talk to him?”
“Why should I fix something he destroyed?” Ekaterina asked. “What exactly did I do wrong?”
“You shouldn’t have to, of course. But think about the practical side. The apartment, the money, Anton’s future…”
“What future? Watching his father spend his mother’s salary on another woman and her child?”
“Well… maybe it’s temporary insanity. A midlife crisis?”
Ekaterina looked at her friend with pity.
“Sveta, this isn’t a crisis. It’s a new family.”
For a month, Ekaterina watched her husband and thought about the situation. Igor became more cautious and stayed late at work less often, but he did not stop seeing Natalia. He simply moved their meetings to his lunch break. At home, he pretended to be a loving husband and father, although he became worse at the performance every day.
“How are things at school?” he asked Anton one evening over dinner.
“Daddy, I go to kindergarten,” the boy replied in surprise.
“Yes, of course. Kindergarten. How are things there?”
“Fine. Will you buy me a bicycle?”
“In winter? What kind of bicycle do you need in winter? Wait until summer.”
“But you promised one for my birthday…”
“I promised, I promised. I remember. We’ll definitely buy one.”
Ekaterina silently observed the conversation. Anton’s birthday had been three months earlier.
Their rented two-bedroom apartment cost thirty thousand rubles a month. During four years of marriage, they had failed to save anything for a mortgage down payment. Igor spent everything she gave him, and whenever she asked questions, he answered evasively.
“I have a plan for improving our financial well-being,” he would say. “Don’t concern yourself with it. Women don’t understand finances.”
Ekaterina only briefly mentioned the problems in her marriage to her mother, without going into detail.
“All married couples argue, darling,” her mother dismissed her as usual. “The important thing is feminine wisdom. A man always cools down and comes home.”
“What if he doesn’t cool down?”
“He will. Where else is he going to go? You’re not quarrelsome, and you’re a good homemaker. You just need to wait it out.”
Then Svetlana called.
“Katya, I have a proposition. Remember Marina Petrovna, my mother’s friend? She recently lost her entire family in an accident—her husband, her son, and her grandson. She sits at home alone, and she’s in a terrible state. She’s looking for a companion.”
“Sveta, I’m not ready for something like that. I already have more problems than I can handle.”
“Just talk to her. Maybe it will help both of you. And she’s prepared to pay well.”
“How much?”
“Sixty thousand rubles a month, plus accommodation in her house. Katya, this could be your way out!”
Several more weeks passed. Ekaterina received an advance payment from work but did not give Igor a single ruble.
“Where is the money?” he asked demandingly, looking at his wife with his usual expectation of obedience.
“I’m going to manage it myself,” she replied calmly as she continued preparing dinner. “We haven’t saved anything in four years. Everything Anton needs comes out of my own money.”
“What is this insolence?” Igor roared. “I pay the rent, the utility bills, and the groceries!”
Ekaterina said nothing. There was no point discussing finances with a man who spent her money on his mistress. Besides, it was better to save her energy for more important things.
At the weekend, while taking Anton to her mother’s house, Ekaterina encountered Svetlana with an elderly woman. The stranger was elegantly dressed, but deep grief was visible in her eyes.
“Katya, meet Marina Petrovna,” Svetlana said, introducing them.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Ekaterina said, instinctively taking a liking to the woman.
“Likewise,” Marina Petrovna replied gently. “Sveta has told me many good things about you.”
They talked for several minutes about the weather and children. Anton impatiently tugged at his mother’s hand, eager to reach his grandmother’s house.
“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” Ekaterina said, hurrying away, although the pleasant impression from the meeting remained with her.
That evening, Svetlana called.
“Marina Petrovna liked you. She’s ready to discuss the conditions.”
“What conditions?” Ekaterina asked in surprise.
“The companion job. She’s alone, the house is large, and she’s lost her whole family. I already told you. Think about it, Katya. This might be exactly what you need.”
Ekaterina looked at Igor, who was watching television and had not even glanced up when the phone rang. It was as if her conversations did not concern him at all.
“All right. I agree to meet her.”
“A wise decision. Tomorrow at two. I’ll send you the address.”
Marina Petrovna’s house amazed Ekaterina with its size. The two-story cottage with its carefully maintained grounds reminded her of her grandfather’s house, where she had spent happy childhood holidays.
“Please come in,” the owner welcomed her warmly.
Marina Petrovna led her into the living room. Photographs stood on the mantelpiece: a gray-haired man, a young man in military uniform, and a little boy with a mischievous smile.
“That was my family,” the woman said quietly before suddenly bursting into tears. “Forgive me…”
Ekaterina gently put an arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t apologize. Come with me. You need to lie down.”
She took Marina Petrovna to the bedroom and then returned to the living room. Almost automatically, she collected the cups and washed them in the kitchen. She watered the flowers—the soil in their pots had completely dried out. Strangely, she felt a sense of peace in this house that she had not experienced at home for a very long time.
“I’m sorry,” Marina Petrovna said when she reappeared half an hour later. “I didn’t mean to fall apart in front of you.”
“It’s all right. I understand what it’s like to be alone among memories.”
The woman studied her carefully.
“You have your own grief too.”
“I do. But something can be done about mine, unlike yours.”
Marina Petrovna sat down in an armchair.
“I have a proposition. Move in here with your son. The house is large and empty. I’ll pay for the food and give you a salary of sixty thousand rubles a month.”
Ekaterina was stunned. That amount of money, combined with what she would save on rent and utility bills…
“For six months to begin with,” Ekaterina said. “Until I resolve my family problems.”
“Agreed,” Marina Petrovna nodded. “I’ll show you your room.”
The room on the second floor was bright and spacious, with two beds and a writing desk. The window overlooked the garden. Ekaterina remembered her childhood at her grandfather’s house—the same kind of mornings and the same freedom from other people’s demands.
“I like it,” she said. “When can we move in?”
“Tomorrow, if you like. I truly need the support.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” Igor exploded when Ekaterina informed him of her decision. “What job? Why are you moving in with some strange old woman?”
“It’s a temporary position as a companion to a respectable woman,” she replied calmly while continuing to pack. “The accommodation is free, and the pay is good. I’ll be able to save for a mortgage down payment.”
“We already live perfectly well! What are you missing?”
“Perfectly well” meant that he spent her money on his mistress while their son walked around in torn shoes.
“I’m missing prospects,” she answered.
“Ekaterina, you can’t just disappear! We’re a family!”
“I can. And I’m taking responsibility for my own life.”
“What happened to you? You used to be a normal wife!”
Ekaterina stopped packing and looked at him.
“I used to be convenient. There’s an important difference.”
Igor continued shouting for another half hour, alternating between threats and pleas, but Ekaterina was already packing Anton’s belongings. In the morning, after her husband left for work, she called the movers.
“Mommy, are we really going to live in a big house?” Anton asked as he watched the men carry out the boxes.
“Yes, sweetheart. There’s a garden and a swing.”
“Will Daddy come to live with us?”
Ekaterina crouched in front of her son.
“Daddy will stay here. But he’ll come and visit you.”
“All right,” the boy agreed easily.
Marina Petrovna met Ekaterina and Anton at the gate and helped them carry their bags.
“Welcome to your new home,” she said warmly.
Anton immediately ran off to explore the grounds, while Ekaterina realized that the woman did not need someone to clean and organize the house as much as she needed human companionship—someone who would stop her from drowning in her memories.
“Tomorrow, we could go to the cemetery, if you’d like,” Ekaterina suggested over dinner.
Marina Petrovna looked at her in surprise.
“Are you sure? It isn’t a very cheerful place.”
“They need flowers. And you need to talk to them.”
“Thank you.” The woman touched her hand. “I’ve wanted to go for a long time, but I was afraid to go alone.”
Igor called every evening.
“Katya, I miss you. Stop this foolishness and come home.”
“I’m working. I have a six-month contract.”
“To hell with your ridiculous contract! You’re my wife!”
“It matters to me. And I fulfill the obligations I accept.”
Anton quickly became comfortable in the new house. Marina Petrovna taught him to paint with watercolors, while Ekaterina read aloud. She had a pleasant, well-trained voice, and it helped calm the older woman.
“You have a beautiful voice,” Marina Petrovna said one evening. “You could work in radio.”
“I dreamed of doing that when I was younger,” Ekaterina admitted. “But then I got married and had my son…”
“And buried your dreams?”
“I postponed them until later. But ‘later’ stretched into years.”
“It isn’t too late to return to them. You’re only twenty-six.”
Two weeks later, Ekaterina agreed to meet Igor in a café. He looked disheveled.
“Where is your salary money?” was the first thing he asked, without even greeting her.
“What touching concern,” she replied sarcastically. “I spend it on myself and my son.”
“Ekaterina, stop acting stupid! I’m your husband! I have a right to know!”
“For the moment, you are.” She took some documents out of her bag. “This is a court summons. I’m filing for divorce.”
Igor turned pale as he stared at the official stamp.
“Why? We were living perfectly well!”
“You were living well. I was merely existing.”
“But why divorce? What have I done?”
“Natalia…”
A deathly silence fell between them. Igor clenched his fists, and his face twisted.
“It… it isn’t what you think…”
“An eight-thousand-ruble toy for her son? Weekly kisses in a café on Tverskaya Street? Which part isn’t what I think?”
“You were spying on me? How dare you?”
“I saw you by accident. But you dared to spend my money on someone else’s child while your own son walked around in torn shoes.”
“We were going through a crisis in our relationship! I met her a couple of times. So what?”
“So many times that you had money for her child but none for your own.”
Igor leaned back in his chair.
“All right. Yes, there was an affair. But I didn’t leave you! Family is sacred to me!”
“So sacred that you betray it at the first opportunity.”
Ekaterina stood and picked up her bag.
“Where are you going? We haven’t finished this conversation!”
“I have. I’ll see you in court.”
She left without turning around, ignoring his shouts.
After returning to Marina Petrovna’s house, Ekaterina sat on the veranda for a long time, staring into the darkness. The meeting with Igor had shaken her. She had expected it to feel easier, but anger still boiled inside her toward the man with whom she had spent four years.
“Did something happen?” Marina Petrovna stepped onto the veranda carrying two cups of tea.
“I met my husband. I officially filed for divorce.”
“How did he react?”
Ekaterina smiled bitterly.
“First, he demanded my salary. Then he acted surprised that I wanted a divorce.”
Marina Petrovna sat beside her and handed her a cup.
“Tell me about it. Sometimes saying things aloud helps put everything into perspective.”
And Ekaterina told her everything. She spoke about the day in the store, watching Igor outside his office, and the years during which she had given him seventy percent of her salary while there was never enough money for their own son.
“Do you know what infuriates me most?” she said in conclusion. “He sincerely believes he did nothing wrong. He thinks I’m simply being difficult.”
“What refined logic your husband has,” Marina Petrovna remarked sarcastically. “Taking money for his mistress is normal, but objecting to it is being difficult.”
“Exactly! And when I reminded him about educational activities for Anton, he said the child would grow up perfectly well without them.”
Marina Petrovna remained silent for a long time before speaking quietly.
“My Viktor brought home every kopeck he earned for thirty-two years. He never raised a hand against me and never cheated on me. But I thought that was simply how things were supposed to be. You… you did the right thing. Life is too short to waste it on people who don’t value you.”
“You know, Marina Petrovna,” Ekaterina said quietly, “it has been such a long time since I spoke openly with anyone. Igor always interrupted me or turned the conversation back to himself.”
At that same moment, Igor was standing outside Natalia’s apartment building, gathering the courage to ring the bell. Ekaterina had left him, the apartment felt like a tomb, and tomorrow he would have to start thinking about how he was going to live.
Natalia opened the door wearing a dressing gown, clearly not expecting visitors.
“Igor?”
“Can I come in? We need to talk.”
She reluctantly allowed him into the entrance hall but did not invite him any farther.
“Listen, everything has changed,” Igor began. “Ekaterina has filed for divorce. We can finally be together.”
Natalia turned pale.
“Igor, you don’t understand…”
“I understand perfectly! We’re finally free!”
“No, you don’t understand!” she interrupted sharply. “I’m married!”
Igor stared at her in shock.
“What do you mean, married? To whom?”
“For two years… Did you think I was going to wait until you finally woke up?”
“Two years?” Igor’s voice broke. “You’ve been leading me on for two years? For two damned years, I spent money on you and lied to my wife while you…”
“I didn’t lead anyone on!” Natalia snapped. “You imagined everything yourself! I never said I was single!”
“What about the kisses? What about the presents for my… for his son? What about all our meetings?”
“I never asked you to buy toys!” she replied angrily. “And kisses don’t obligate anyone to anything! What are you, some naive country boy?”
“So I was just a fool who paid for everything…”
“Was I ever anything more to you?” Natalia sneered venomously. “You had a wife and a son! Or did you think I believed your stories about your ‘great love’ and your miserable family life?”
A child began crying in the bedroom. Natalia glanced nervously over her shoulder.
“Leave. Sergei will be home from work soon.”
“So that’s how it is!” Igor shouted. “I was nothing but entertainment to you? A cash cow?”
“What did you expect?” Natalia asked coldly. “A married man with a child goes looking for adventures on the side. Did you think you’d find some fool who believed your fairy tales about an unhappy marriage?”
“I don’t have a wife anymore! I lost my family because of you!”
“You lost it because of yourself!” Natalia snapped. “Because of your own lust. And now you want to shift the blame onto me?”
“You bitch!” Igor hissed. “You’re nothing but a greedy bitch!”
“Perhaps,” Natalia said indifferently with a shrug before opening the door. “Don’t come here again.”
“We’ll see each other again!” Igor threw back angrily as he left. “Women like you always get what they deserve!”
“Are you threatening me?” Natalia sneered contemptuously. “Write down the local police officer’s number. You may need it.”
The remaining weeks before the court hearing dragged by painfully. Igor tried several times to call Ekaterina and demand a meeting, but she answered curtly.
“We’ll talk in court.”
“Katya, we’re a family! We spent four years together!” Igor tried to appeal to her sympathy during one of the calls.
“Igor, you betrayed Anton and me. Repeatedly.”
“What did I do that was so terrible?”
“Goodbye, Igor. I’ll see you in court.”
He remained convinced that his wife would change her mind at the last moment. She would remember their four years of marriage and the fact that they were a family. After all, where would she find another man when she had a child to care for?
But when Igor saw Ekaterina in the courtroom, he realized there would be no return. She remained composed, answered the judge’s questions evenly, and looked at him as though he were a stranger.
“Claimant, please state your reasons for seeking the dissolution of the marriage,” the judge said to Ekaterina.
“For three years, my husband spent family funds on an extramarital relationship. He systematically deceived both me and our child about the family’s financial situation. He ignored the needs of our minor son.”
“Respondent, do you have any objections?”
Igor wanted to say something in his defense, but the words would not come. How could he explain to the judge that he had simply wanted to be happy?
“Does the respondent consent to the divorce?” the judge asked.
Igor wanted to say no, but the word caught in his throat. The woman beside him resembled his Ekaterina only in appearance. The real Katya was gone.
“I consent,” he forced through clenched teeth.
“Does the claimant insist on the payment of child support?”
“Yes,” Ekaterina replied firmly. “Twenty-five percent of all the respondent’s income.”
“That’s robbery!” Igor could no longer restrain himself. “I rent an apartment! I have loans!”
“You should have thought about that earlier,” Ekaterina said coldly, “when you were spending our money on another woman.”
They had no jointly acquired property, only credit-card debts, which the judge assigned to Igor. Child support was set at twenty-five percent of his salary—eighteen thousand rubles.
As they left the courthouse, Igor attempted to speak to his former wife.
“Katya, perhaps…”
“Goodbye,” she interrupted before walking away without looking back.
“You’ll regret this!” he shouted after her. “You’re a single mother with a child! Who will want you?”
Ekaterina stopped and turned around.
“Igor, do you know what your greatest mistake is? You believe a woman without a man is an incomplete woman. In reality, a woman with a bad man has an incomplete life.”
At home, Igor sat down with a calculator. His salary was seventy thousand rubles. After child support, fifty-two thousand remained. The apartment rent was thirty thousand, the utility bills were five, and food would cost ten. That left seven thousand for everything else.
Previously, Ekaterina had brought in an additional sixty-five thousand. Now that money had disappeared along with her.
“What the hell!” he roared into the empty apartment. “All women are greedy bitches! They use men as cash cows and then throw them away like worn-out garbage!”
Igor hurled the calculator against the wall. Its plastic casing cracked and scattered across the floor.
“Natalia lied and took advantage of my presents, knowing perfectly well that she was married! And that one…” He pointed into the air as though Ekaterina were standing in front of him. “She abandoned me at the most difficult moment and even sued me for child support! As though I owe her something!”
The man paced around the room, kicking anything that got in his way.
“Neither of them cared how I was supposed to live! All they ever wanted was money! Damned parasites!”
But the most disgusting part was that both women believed they were right. Natalia with her excuses and Ekaterina with her claims that the divorce was his own fault. Hypocrites.
Meanwhile, Ekaterina was pushing a bicycle along a park path, watching Anton learn to keep his balance. Marina Petrovna rode beside him on her own bicycle and encouraged the boy.
“Well done, Anton! Don’t look down. Look ahead! Imagine that you’re flying!”
“Mommy, look! I’m riding! Look!” Anton shouted joyfully.
“I can see you, clever boy! You’re a real cyclist!” the older woman called back.
Ekaterina smiled, but an inexplicable anxiety pricked at her heart. Marina Petrovna interacted with her son so naturally, as if he were her own grandson. Anton was drawn to her and told her about his childhood problems—things he had previously confided only in his mother.
“Don’t be jealous,” Ekaterina told herself firmly. “A child needs attention, and you work from morning until night.”
At that moment, Ekaterina understood that during the past month, she had acquired something she had never possessed in her marriage: peace.
No one demanded an accounting of every ruble she spent. No one started arguments. No one lied to her. She had already saved thirty thousand rubles. In another year, she could begin thinking seriously about a mortgage.
That evening, after Anton had fallen asleep, Ekaterina sat on the veranda with a mug of hot cocoa. Her phone remained silent. Igor had not called for a month. The child-support payments arrived regularly.
“How strange,” she thought. “A year ago, his indifference hurt me. Now it’s simply a fact, like the weather outside the window.”
Life truly was getting better. Her work brought her not only money but also satisfaction. Anton had started learning to read and no longer asked why his father did not live with them.
Most importantly, she had stopped making excuses to herself for other people’s actions.
Igor had made his choice. Natalia had made hers.
Now it was Ekaterina’s turn.
And her choice had been the right one.
