“Finally got rid of that beggar,” the husband declared during the divorce. But when he heard about my inheritance, he went speechless.
Alexey came home in the middle of an October day with a serious look on his face. Natalia was making dinner, chopping vegetables for a salad, when she noticed the strange expression. In eight years of marriage, she had never seen that look before.
“Natasha, I need to tell you something,” Alexey said as he walked into the kitchen and stopped by the table.
Natalia set the knife aside and looked at her husband attentively. Something in his tone made her uneasy.
“I filed for divorce. I was in court this morning.”
The words hung in the air. Natalia slowly wiped her hands with a towel, processing what she heard.
“Why?” she asked calmly.
“I’m tired of supporting you. I work like a dog while you sit at home doing nothing. You’re thirty-two years old, and you’re like a weight around my neck,” Alexey crossed his arms.
Natalia neatly folded the towel, not rushing to respond. Eight years ago, she had married a programmer who earned well and spoke of great ambitions. They agreed that Natalia would take care of the home until they had children. The children never came, and finding a job only became harder.
“Alright,” she said simply.
Alexey clearly expected tears, hysteria, pleas. Her reaction threw him off.
“Just don’t think you’re getting anything from the divorce. The apartment is mine, the car too. You haven’t contributed anything to this family.”
“I understand.”
“We’ll meet at the lawyer’s tomorrow. All the paperwork is ready.”
The next day at the law firm, Alexey looked confident. His suit was pressed, documents arranged neatly in a folder. Natalia arrived in a simple dress with a small handbag.
“Good thing there’s no drama,” Alexey said when the lawyer stepped out for coffee. “Finally got rid of that pauper. You’ll be lost without me, but that’s no longer my problem.”
Natalia frowned, unable to believe he had said that out loud. Eight years together — and now such words. But she stayed silent, simply nodded.
At that moment, Alexey’s phone rang. His mother.
“Alyosha, how’s it going? Have you met with that… whatever her name is?” his mother’s voice was clearly audible.
“To be continued in the comments.”
“Yeah, Mom, everything’s going according to plan.”
“Alright, son. My boy deserves someone better, not such a burden. I always told you that you made the wrong choice.”
Alexey looked at Natalia, waiting for a reaction. But his wife sat calmly, flipping through some papers in her folder.
“Mom, we’ll talk at home,” he said and hung up.
“Your mother is right,” Natalia suddenly said. “You really do deserve someone better.”
Alexey was stunned by her composure. He had expected offense, accusations—but instead he received agreement.
When the lawyer returned, they began discussing details. The apartment was registered in Alexey’s name, as was the car. No joint savings. No children. A seemingly straightforward case.
“Do the spouses have any property that needs to be divided?” the lawyer asked.
“No,” Alexey replied quickly. “My wife owns nothing.”
“And you, Natalia Vitalyevna?”
“Also nothing,” the woman answered calmly.
A week later, the first court hearing took place. Alexey arrived with his mother and sister Svetlana. The relatives settled on the bench, ready to show support.
“Your Honor, the marriage has run its course,” Alexey began. “My wife has no assets, doesn’t work, lives off my money. I request that we be divorced as soon as possible.”
Svetlana nodded, agreeing with every word. The mother-in-law looked approvingly at her son.
“Natalia Vitalyevna, do you agree with your spouse’s statements?” the judge addressed the respondent.
“I agree to the divorce. I’ll refrain from commenting on the rest.”
“Why don’t you object to his characterization?”
“I don’t find it important.”
Alexey’s relatives exchanged glances. The sister-in-law even smiled—everything was going smoothly. Natalia wasn’t resisting, wasn’t asking for alimony, wasn’t claiming any property.
“Very well,” said the judge. “I set the next hearing for the twenty-seventh of October. Please prepare all necessary documents by then.”
After the hearing, Alexey boasted to his relatives:
“See how easy it was? Natalia didn’t even try to get anything. She knows she’s nothing without me.”
“You’re doing the right thing, Alexey Petrovich,” his mother chimed in. “Now you’ll find a proper wife, one worthy of you.”
“Exactly,” added Svetlana. “Good thing she’s not clinging to you. At least in that, she’s showing some brains.”
Meanwhile, Natalia was at home, sorting through documents in her folder. She took out her phone and dialed a number.
“Elena Vladimirovna, this is Natalia Vitalyevna Stepanova. Do you remember how six months ago you told me to contact you when I was ready?”
“Of course I remember. What happened?”
“I’m getting divorced. Can we meet tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. Come at ten in the morning.”
The next day Natalia met with notary Elena Vladimirovna. A neat woman in her fifties, dressed in a strict suit.
“Tell me what’s changed since our last conversation.”
“My husband filed for divorce. Tomorrow is another hearing.”
“I see. Then we must hurry with the paperwork. Did you bring all the documents?”
“Yes, everything is here.”
Elena carefully examined the papers, made some notes, then looked up:
“Natalia, are you sure you want to keep this secret until the divorce process is over?”
“Absolutely. Let Alexey get what he deserves.”
“Alright. Then we’ll sign everything, and in six months it will be officially completed.”
At home, Natalia neatly put all the certificates back into the folder. Tomorrow was the final hearing—and Alexey would learn the truth.
That evening Svetlana called:
“Natalia, hey. Listen, you’re absolutely sure you’re not going to demand anything from Alexey, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. We were just worried you might change your mind at the last moment and start making claims.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be fair.”
“Great. Then see you tomorrow.”
Natalia hung up and smirked. Tomorrow her sister-in-law would learn what “everything will be fair” really meant.
On the morning of October twenty-seventh, all participants gathered in the courtroom. Alexey looked relaxed, even joking with his relatives. Natalia sat quietly, folder of documents beside her.
“The court now hears the case of dissolution of marriage between Alexey Petrovich Morozov and Natalia Vitalyevna Morozova,” announced the judge.
“Your Honor,” Alexey began, “my wife and I have definitively decided to divorce. We have no claims against each other.”
“Natalia Vitalyevna, do you confirm?”
“I confirm that I want a divorce. But I have a question regarding division of property.”
Alexey snapped his head toward her. He hadn’t seen that coming.
“What property?” he asked irritably. “You don’t have anything.”
“I do,” Natalia replied calmly, pulling several documents from her folder. “I have an inheritance from my aunt, Polina Ivanovna.”
The courtroom fell silent. Alexey’s eyes bulged, his mother leaned forward, Svetlana’s mouth dropped open.
“What inheritance?” Alexey whispered.
“My aunt passed away six months ago. She bequeathed to me her apartment in the city center, a dacha in the Moscow region, and a bank deposit. I received the inheritance documents yesterday.”
The judge carefully examined the papers.
“Property received as inheritance is the personal property of the inheritor and is not subject to division,” he stated.
Alexey turned pale. His mother clutched her chest. Svetlana shook her head in disbelief.
“This can’t be!” Alexey shouted. “You never told me!”
“Why would I?” Natalia responded calmly. “You said I was a pauper. Why would a pauper tell you about money?”
“But… but we’re divorced! I mean, divorcing!”
“Yes, but the inheritance was received during the marriage. However, by law, inherited property belongs solely to the heir.”
Alexey tried to process what was happening. Yesterday he rejoiced at getting rid of his wife without losing anything—now he realized he had just lost millions.
“H-how much…?” he croaked.
“The apartment is worth about eight million, the dacha two million, and the deposit one and a half million. Total eleven and a half million. Your share would have been five million seven hundred and fifty thousand.”
The numbers hit like thunder. Svetlana gasped for air, the mother fanned herself with a sheet of paper.
“Natalia, darling,” Alexey suddenly said softly, “maybe we shouldn’t rush with the divorce? Let’s reconsider?”
“No,” the wife answered firmly. “You were the one who said you were tired of supporting me. Besides, I’ve already found a lawyer for the property division.”
“What lawyer?”
“The same one who handled your divorce paperwork. Turns out, he’s a very competent specialist.”
The judge carefully examined the documents Natalia had provided. A tense silence filled the courtroom. Alexey tapped nervously on the table, his mother shook her head disapprovingly, and Svetlana tried to whisper something to her brother.
“Your Honor,” Alexey suddenly stood up, “I would like to withdraw my divorce petition.”
“Too late,” Natalia said clearly. “I agree to the divorce and insist on the division of assets.”
“But Natalia, darling, we can talk everything over at home,” Alexey tried to cajole her.
“There’s nothing to talk about at home. You were the one who said you were finally getting rid of a beggar.”
The judge requested that both parties submit final property documents. Natalia stood up and pulled a few more papers from her folder.
“In addition to Aunt Polina Ivanovna’s inheritance,” she said calmly, “there is another apartment from her.”
Alexey jerked his head around, his eyes widening in horror.
“A second three-room apartment in the city center,” Natalia continued, placing the documents on the judge’s desk. “My aunt owned two apartments and bequeathed both to me.”
Alexey’s face drained of color. He sat frozen, blinking rapidly, unable to comprehend what was happening.
“This can’t be true,” his mother muttered in confusion. “Where did she get such a wealthy aunt?”
“Unlike you, I’m not used to bragging about nothing,” Natalia replied calmly. “Here is the proof.”
The judge carefully reviewed the new documents, checking seals and signatures.
“The apartment located at 17 Tverskaya Street also belonged to citizen Semenova Polina Ivanovna. According to the will, after her death, the apartment is transferred to her niece, Morozova Natalia Vitalyevna,” he confirmed.
Alexey’s relatives, who had mocked Natalia not long ago, fell silent and lowered their eyes. Svetlana nervously fiddled with her handbag; his mother sat pale as a sheet.
“How much is this apartment worth?” Alexey managed to choke out.
“The appraised value of the second apartment is twelve million rubles,” the judge replied after checking the valuation certificate.
Alexey tried to say something, but his voice trembled and the words stuck in his throat. It turned out that Natalia’s total inheritance exceeded twenty-three million rubles.
“Wait,” Alexey suddenly perked up, “if the inheritance was received during the marriage, then half should be mine!”
“Incorrect,” the judge replied calmly. “According to Article 36 of the Family Code of the Russian Federation, property received by one spouse as a gift, inheritance, or by other gratuitous means is the personal property of that spouse and is not subject to division.”
Alexey sank into his chair as if struck down. His mother covered her face with her hands.
“But we’re getting divorced,” he whispered. “So I get nothing at all?”
“You get what you earned yourself,” Natalia replied. “Your apartment and your car.”
“Natalia, what are you doing? We lived together for eight years. Don’t you feel sorry for me?”
“Did you feel sorry for me when you called me a beggar?”
“I was heated. I’m sorry. Let’s not get divorced, okay?”
“No, Alexey. You showed your true face. When you thought I was truly poor, you threw me away immediately.”
“But I didn’t know about the inheritance!”
“Exactly. So now you want me for money you believed I didn’t have.”
Alexey missed the irony and kept pleading:
“Natalia, think about it. We have an apartment, a car — we could live well!”
“On my money?”
“Well… I mean, on ours.”
“We have nothing in common, Alexey. You said it yourself.”
After a short recess, the judge delivered the ruling. The marriage between Alexey Petrovich Morozov and Natalia Vitalyevna Morozova was dissolved. The property acquired during marriage remained with the spouse to whom it was registered. Natalia’s inherited assets were not subject to division.
“Court is adjourned,” the judge declared.
Alexey sat on the bench, staring at the floor. His mother sniffled quietly. Svetlana looked helplessly from her brother to Natalia.
“Alexey Petrovich,” Natalia addressed her former husband, “I wish you to find a woman who will love you for your personality.”
“Natalia, don’t leave like this,” he tried to stop her.
“How else? You were the one who said you were finally rid of me.”
“I changed my mind!”
“I haven’t.”
As she exited the courtroom, Natalia held her head high. She no longer saw a husband behind her — only a man who had willingly given up a future at her side. Outside, the autumn sun was shining. Natalia took out her phone and dialed her realtor.
“Hello, this is Natalia Vitalyevna. Remember you offered to show me a house outside the city? I’m ready to view it.”
Meanwhile, Alexey remained standing near the courthouse with his mother and sister. His mother lamented:
“Alexey Petrovich, what have you done? Twenty-three million rubles!”
“Mom, how was I supposed to know?”
“You should’ve studied your wife better,” Svetlana scolded. “Eight years married and you never even learned about her family.”
“She never told me!”
“Because you never asked. You only ever thought about yourself.”
Alexey stayed silent. Indeed, in eight years of marriage, he had never once asked Natalia about her relatives or shown interest in her past. He had simply assumed his wife was a nobody with no lineage.
A month later, Alexey learned that Natalia had bought a country house and started working at an art gallery. He ran into her by chance at a café — she looked younger, happier.
“Natalia,” he approached her table.
“Alexey,” she nodded politely.
“How are you?”
“Good. Working, furnishing the house.”
“Listen, maybe we could…”
“No,” she interrupted. “Whatever you’re about to say — the answer is no.”
“But I’ve changed!”
“I’m glad for you. But that doesn’t concern me.”
Natalia stood up, left money for her coffee, and walked away. Alexey remained sitting alone, realizing he had lost not just a wife, but a person who had stood by his side for eight years, loved him, and believed in him — and whom he had thrown away as soon as he deemed her a burden.
Now Natalia lived in her own house, worked in a field she loved, traveled. And Alexey counted every ruble, dreaming of turning back time. But time doesn’t return — just like the trust of someone you betrayed.
