“I don’t print money!” Irina exclaimed as she tossed her handbag onto the table, massaging her temples with exhaustion. Her inexpensive watch, its strap worn thin, indicated it was nearly eleven in the evening.
Anatoly didn’t even glance up from his phone, the blue light illuminating his stubbled face against the dim room.
“Could you at least wash the dishes? After working two shifts, I’m completely drained,” Irina requested, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I’ll handle them tomorrow,” Anatoly murmured without looking up, immersed in an endless stream of social media updates.
Looking around the kitchen, Irina noticed the sink piled high with dirty dishes accumulated over three days. Empty jars cluttered the windowsill. Their once tidy and inviting apartment now resembled a neglected den.
“Tolia, we have to talk,” Irina said, perching on the sofa’s edge.
“Here we go again,” her husband muttered, pushing his phone aside with a scowl. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’ve got a splitting headache.”
“You complain about headaches every day!” Irina’s voice trembled. “Six months have gone by, and you haven’t even started drafting a résumé!”
Suddenly rising, Anatoly’s expression twisted with frustration.
“Do you think finding a decent job without connections is simple? I’m not about to become a taxi driver or a courier!”
“Nobody asked you to do that, but you have to take some action,” Irina sighed. “Our savings are dwindling. Yesterday you withdrew five thousand. What was that for?”
“Are you spying on me?” Anatoly grabbed his jacket. “I’m a man, and I deserve some time to unwind with my friends!”
“While I juggle two jobs?” Tears welled up in Irina’s eyes.
Once, their dreams had included a spacious home, children, and travel adventures. Now, their talks were filled with accusations and justifications.
“I’m stepping out for some fresh air,” Anatoly said, heading to the door. “Don’t wait up.”
The door slammed so forcefully that a cup on the table jumped. Irina sank onto the sofa, burying her face in a pillow smelling faintly of chips. Tolia used to bring her roses for no reason; now, every conversation felt like a battlefield.
She opened her mobile banking app. Just over twenty thousand remained in their joint account; her wages barely covered rent and groceries. Soon, she would need to dip into her second account—the one she was saving toward buying a car.
Her phone buzzed with a message from her friend Katya: “How are things? Still hanging on?”
Irina gave a wry smile. Hanging on? She was barely clinging by her fingertips to a marriage unraveling—a partner who had slowly transformed into a stranger.
Her eyes drifted to the wedding photo on the wall: Anatoly in a sharp suit, she in a white gown—radiant, in love. When did that time slip away? At what point had Tolia ceased to be her pillar of support and instead become a burden?
Irina realized that something had to change, or the constant struggle would break her. Yet, her love for her husband lingered, along with hope that the old Anatoly might return.
Morning Awakening and Uncovering Betrayal
The next morning, Irina rose before her alarm. Her eyes were puffy, and her head felt heavy. She tiptoed to the kitchen to avoid waking her husband, who had stumbled home at dawn and now slept soundly on the sofa.
After brewing tea, she glanced at the calendar—Wednesday, her extra shift at the mall’s accounting department awaited her. Eight hours managing figures, followed by another four in the evening.
“If only I could take a day off,” she murmured, rubbing her temples.
Her phone buzzed again: unexpectedly, her boss informed her she could leave by noon as reports had arrived early. She also completed her second job ahead of schedule.
For the first time in six months, fortune seemed to grant her a break. The spring sun warmed her face as she chose to walk home, a mere twenty-minute stroll.
Approaching the building, she slowed. The apartment window was wide open, and she caught Anatoly’s voice—loud and almost cheerful. He rarely spoke so animatedly on the phone.
Quietly unlocking the door, she found the hallway dark but could hear Anatoly’s voice coming from the kitchen.
“Mom, don’t worry, I’ve thought it all through,” Anatoly said with an upbeat tone Irina hadn’t heard in months. “Now is the ideal time to invest in real estate. That dacha outside of town is perfect.”
Irina’s heart raced as she pressed against the wall, frozen.
“We’ll combine your savings with ours and Irka’s—just enough to manage,” he continued. “The dacha will be under my name, naturally. Irka doesn’t need to know.”
Her pulse quickened. Her husband and mother-in-law plotted to spend their shared funds secretly!
Slipping out, Irina hurried to the bank and transferred the entire nest egg to her mother’s account. Once home, she slammed the door as if just returning from work and began packing Anatoly’s clothes.
“Tolia, I washed your T-shirts—putting them away!” she called out. He grunted, glued to the football game on the TV.
Soon, two packed suitcases sat in the hallway. Irina smoothed her blouse and turned off the television.
“Tolia, we need an honest conversation.”
“Hey! The game’s on!”
“This one is crucial,” Irina said firmly, folding her arms. “I want you to leave tonight.”
He laughed at first until spotting her determined expression. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I’d be crazy to stay here another day. I heard your plans about the dacha, about squandering my savings.”
He lunged for his phone, frantically checking the account balance, then rushed to his laptop in shock.
“Ira! Where’s the money? The account is empty!”
“It’s safe—with Mom,” Irina replied calmly. “I earned that money, especially over the last six months while you lounged on the sofa.”
“It’s my money too! I’ll call the police!”
“Do it. We’ll discuss how you’ve lived off me since you quit without telling me.”
Looking at the packed suitcases, Anatoly exclaimed, “This is my apartment!”
“It’s a rental I’ve been paying for. Pack up and leave or I’ll call the police and tell them you are threatening me. Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Anatoly stared silently. The timid Irina had vanished.
“You’ll regret this,” he muttered as he dragged his suitcases out. “Mother will never forgive you.”
“Tell Polina Yevgenyevna to save up for her own dacha,” Irina replied with a smile.
The door slammed behind him, shattering a porcelain figurine—his mother’s gift—on the floor. Irina sank onto a chair, tears streaming not from sadness but relief.
Freedom and New Beginnings
- Calls and texts from her mother-in-law bombarded her phone; she blocked every number.
- Anatoly oscillated between pleading and threatening her.
- A month later, Irina officially filed for divorce, supported by evidence showing her income versus his inactivity.
After the divorce, she stood in a car showroom, hand resting on a gleaming hood. It wasn’t the brand-new model she had once dreamed of but one she could afford with her savings.
“I’ll take it,” she declared confidently.
With the paperwork completed, Irina settled into the driver’s seat and switched on the radio. Her wedding song played softly. She reached to change the station, then paused, realizing she felt no pain—only a gentle nostalgia for times gone by.
Key Insight: Through perseverance and resilience, Irina reclaimed control over her life and finances, embracing a future shaped by her own strength and decisions.
This story illustrates the complexities of relationships when financial strain and lack of communication escalate, yet it also highlights that self-respect and courage can lead to renewal even after hardship.