My husband was angry that I worked and didn’t serve dinner on time. He suggested we live apart for a while and think things over. Life felt so much better without him — I ended up divorcing him.
I stared at my phone for a long time. Alexey was calling for the third time that evening, but I didn’t answer. The screen showed the time — half past ten. At this hour, I would normally already be washing the dishes after dinner, wiping the table, hanging the laundry.
Now I was sitting on the couch with a cup of cold tea, thinking about how everything had changed in just three weeks.
And it all started that very evening. I rushed home from work around eight, quickly threw my bag onto a chair, and took out the cutlets I’d made in the morning. Alexey walked into the kitchen just as I was placing the pan on the stove.
“Where’s dinner, Irochka?” he spoke calmly, but I immediately felt the tension in his voice.
“I’ll heat it up now, everything will be ready in five minutes.”
He walked to the table and ran his finger across the surface.
“Dust. There’s dust everywhere again. Do you even clean?”
I stayed silent, flipping the cutlets. My hands were shaking — from exhaustion or resentment, I don’t know.
“I’m tired, Lyosh. I’m working now.”
“That’s not your job — to work!” he raised his voice, and I flinched. “Why do you even need this job if the house is a mess, there’s no dinner, and I’m standing here waiting like an idiot?”
God, how long could this go on. I had explained — the money wasn’t enough. Or did he think getting a manicure once every three months was normal?
“We need money,” I said quietly. “Your salary isn’t even enough for proper groceries.”
“You just need to be more frugal! Other wives manage, but you…”
He fell silent and turned toward the window. I turned off the stove and set a plate in front of him. I sat down opposite him, feeling everything inside me tighten into a hard knot.
“Listen,” Alexey looked at me. “Let’s live separately for a while. I need time to rethink everything.”
“What?” I didn’t understand at first.
“Let’s take a break from each other. A friend advised me — he and his wife did that, and everything got better after. I’ll stay with my mom for now, and you can think about how you want to live going forward.”
He stood up without touching his food and left the kitchen. I remained sitting, staring at the plate of cutlets. My throat tightened, and it was hard to breathe.
He’s leaving. Just like that — getting up and leaving.
An hour later, Alexey packed a bag and left. The apartment was mine — inherited from my grandmother — so he was the one who had to move out. I walked him to the door, tried to say something, but he just waved me off.
“We’ll talk.”
The door slammed shut. I stood in the hallway listening to the silence. There hadn’t been silence like that in our apartment for a long time. No snoring from the bedroom, no grumbling, no complaints.
For the first two days, I cried. I couldn’t stop — cried in the restroom at work, cried in the kitchen at home, cried before bed. What would I do alone? How would I manage? I called my mom; she came over and stroked my hair like I was a little girl.
“Sweetheart, maybe this is for the best,” she said quietly, wiping my tears. “Look at yourself. You’ve pushed yourself to the limit.”
She pulled some money from her bag and pressed it into my hand.
“For coloring your hair. Don’t skimp on yourself, Irisha.”
I stared at the bills and felt something stir inside. Anger? Hurt? I don’t know. But suddenly I thought — when was the last time I thought about myself?
On the third day, Tanya called. My friend since school. Her voice was lively, almost cheerful.
“Irka, stop moping! Get dressed, I’m picking you up in an hour. We’re going dancing!”
“Dancing, Tan? I’m not in the mood.”
“That’s exactly why we’re going! I’m not letting you turn into a vegetable. Get dressed and come out!”
I wanted to refuse, but found only weak excuses. Tanya didn’t listen.
“That’s it, settled. I’m waiting!”
I looked at myself in the mirror. Messy hair, an old home sweater, a face swollen from crying. God, what did I look like.
I pulled on some jeans, found a light blouse. Put on makeup — my hands were shaking, the mascara smudged. Wiped it off and tried again. It turned out passably.
The dance studio was in the next district, in the basement of an old building. Tanya dragged me by the hand while I resisted.
“Tan, I don’t know how to dance.”
“You’ll learn, don’t worry!”
The hall was small, with huge mirrors along the walls. It smelled of sweat and cheap air freshener. The floorboards creaked under our feet. There were about fifteen women — all different ages, all cheerful, chatting among themselves.
The music started. The instructor showed the moves, everyone repeated them. I stood in the corner feeling stiff as a board. My body wouldn’t obey, my legs tangled. What was I doing here? Why?
I looked at myself in the mirror — and suddenly I saw something. Not a worn-out housewife, not an intimidated wife. Just a woman trying to move to the music. And on my face there was a smile. Shy, uncertain — but a smile.
“There! Look at you, beauty!” Tanya bounced over to me.
I laughed. For the first time in days — truly laughed. And I felt something loosen inside me. Like a tight rope that had bound me for years suddenly slackened a bit.
I felt good. For the first time, I simply felt good.
The next day, Alexey called. I was at work and answered.
“How are you?” His voice was dry, businesslike.
“Fine.”
“The utility bill came. Send me half.”
“Okay.”
A pause. I could hear him breathing through the phone.
“Did you clean at least?”
There it was. Again.
“Alexey, why does it matter to you?”
“What do you mean why? It’s our apartment.”
“My apartment,” I said firmer than I intended.
He exhaled irritably.
“And that’s exactly the problem, Ira. You’ve completely lost your way…”
I hung up. Just like that — pressed the red button and put the phone on the table. My hands weren’t shaking. Inside, everything was calm.
I’m not going to justify myself anymore. I won’t.
The apartment was quiet. I brewed some coffee and sat by the window. There was a hyacinth in a vase on the table — completely dried up; I kept forgetting to throw it away. Now I stood up, tossed the dead flower out, and filled the vase with fresh water. Tomorrow I’ll buy new flowers.
Tanya called every day. Invited me out — for walks, to the movies, to dance classes. I started going — at first forcing myself, then with real interest. At work, they noticed I’d become more energetic. The boss called me in.
“Irina, we’re thinking of promoting you. The salary will be higher, but there will be more responsibilities. Do you agree?”
I nodded, not believing my ears.
“I agree.”
I can do this. I will manage.
Two weeks later, Tanya and I bought a trip to the seaside. Cheap, just for a week. I hesitated for a long time — could I really spend money on myself? But then I thought — why not?
The sea was warm, the wind salty. We lounged on the beach, ate ice cream, talked late into the night. Tanya kept taking pictures of me on her phone.
“Look at yourself! You’re glowing!”
I took the phone and looked at the photo. A tanned face, tousled hair, a wide smile. Was that really me?
“You’re like a character from a TV series post-divorce,” Tanya laughed. “You’ve found yourself!”
“I really have,” I said quietly.
When I came home, Alexey called again. This time he got straight to the point.
“Let’s meet. Talk.”
“About what?”
“What do you mean, about what? About us. We need to decide what we’re doing next.”
I agreed. We set the meeting at a café called Pelmeni and Coffee — our old place, where we used to go often.
I arrived first. Ordered coffee and sat by the window. The bell above the door jingled — Alexey walked in. He looked tired and drawn. He sat across from me and nodded to the waitress.
“Dumplings for me, please.”
We sat in silence for a minute. I sipped my coffee in small sips, looking out the window. He turned his phone in his hands.
“Listen, Ir, living with my mom is unbearable. She interferes in everything I do, nags from morning till night. I’m exhausted.”
And I wasn’t exhausted when you nagged me?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said evenly.
“So what? Have you come to your senses? Will you quit that job? We’ll go back to normal life?”
I looked at him. At his confident face, at his usual posture — leaning back with his arms crossed. He didn’t even doubt that I would agree.
“Alexey, I don’t want to go back.”
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I realized that it’s better for us to get divorced. We’re not a good match.”
“What?!” He sat up straight. “Are you serious?!!”
“Absolutely.”
His face turned red.
“You’ve changed, Ira. I don’t recognize you.”
“And for the first time, I recognize myself,” I said calmly.
He jumped up, almost knocking over the chair.
“Fine then! You’ll regret this!”
He turned and walked out. The bell jingled above the door. The waitress approached me.
“That’ll be five hundred thirty rubles.”
I quietly took out the money. He didn’t even pay for his own order. As always.
At home, I took an old suitcase from the closet. Packed Alexey’s things — shirts, jeans, razor, books. Carefully folded everything, closed the suitcase, and carried it into the hallway.
He can pick it up whenever he wants.
I went back to the kitchen. Yesterday I had bought fresh flowers — chrysanthemums, yellow and white. I arranged them in a vase and filled it with water. The kettle was boiling — I brewed my favorite tea, the one Alexey couldn’t stand. Said it smelled like grass.
I sat by the window with my cup. Opened the window — fresh air rushed in, smelling of rain and leaves. It was early October, the trees were turning yellow.
I am free. For the first time in so many years, I can do whatever I want.
My phone vibrated. A message from Tanya: “Well? How did it go?”
I typed back: “We’re getting divorced. And I feel wonderful.”
Almost immediately, she replied: “Well, that calls for a celebration! Tomorrow evening!”
I smiled. Finished my tea, washed the cup. Looked around the apartment — my apartment, my things, my life. No one would complain about dust. No one would demand dinner on time. No one would tell me I had to stay home.
I will live for myself. Finally.
The next morning, I woke up to sunlight. Got up and stretched. Made coffee, took yogurt from the fridge. Turned on music — loudly, the way I never could before because it bothered Alexey.
The phone rang. Alexey.
“I’ll come for my things tonight.”
“Okay. The suitcase is in the hallway.”
“Ira, maybe you’ll reconsider?”
“No, Lyosh. I’ve already decided.”
He paused.
“Fine. Whatever you want.”
He hung up.
I turned on the shower, got undressed. Looked at myself in the mirror. An ordinary forty-two-year-old woman. Not young, not old. A little plump, gray in her hair. But in her eyes — a spark. A bright, genuine spark.
I like this woman in the mirror.
After the shower, I put on jeans and a new blouse I bought last week. Bright, blue. Alexey always said blue didn’t suit me. But I like it.
I got ready for work. By the door I saw the suitcase with my husband’s things. Soon he’ll take it, and that’s it. That chapter will be closed.
Outside, it was a warm autumn day. Leaves rustled under my feet. I walked toward the bus stop, thinking about how I’d be meeting Tanya in the evening. Then on Saturday — dance class again. Next month I want to sign up for some online courses to earn a little extra — something I’d long dreamed of.
I have so many plans. And all of them are for me.
At work, my boss praised me for the project. My colleagues invited me to lunch. I agreed — before, I always refused, hurrying home to cook dinner.
Now I don’t have to rush anywhere.
In the evening, when I came home, the suitcase was already gone from the hallway. Alexey had taken his things while I was out. He probably chose that time on purpose, to avoid seeing me.
And that’s fine. It’s easier this way.
I took off my shoes and went into the kitchen. Put the kettle on. Walked to the window — the chrysanthemums in the vase looked fresh and bright. It was slowly getting dark outside, lights flickering on in the neighboring buildings.
My phone vibrated. Tanya: “Come out already, I’m waiting by your building!”
I grabbed my jacket and bag. Looked in the hallway mirror — fixed my hair, put on some lipstick. Not bad. Quite decent.
I ran outside. Tanya was standing by her car, waving.
“Finally! Let’s go celebrate your freedom!”
I got into the car and shut the door.
“Let’s go.”
Tanya turned on the music and the car started moving. I looked out the window at the houses, trees, and people passing by. Inside, everything felt warm and calm.
I’ll manage. I’m already managing. And I feel good — so good, better than I have in a long time.
