The utility bills came in, and your mother’s loan is overdue. Why didn’t you pay it?! —the unemployed husband shouted.
Ksenia hurriedly zipped up her jacket, glancing at the clock. There were forty minutes left until her shift at the clinic started, and the bus was always late. She grabbed her bag and was already reaching for the door when her husband’s dissatisfied voice came from the bedroom.
“Ksukh, bring me some water!”
The woman stopped, tightening her grip on the handle of her bag. Sergey was lying on the couch in the same T-shirt he’d slept in, staring at his laptop screen. Empty chip bags and energy drink cans were scattered around him.
“Seriozha, I’m running late for work. Walk to the kitchen yourself,” Ksenia replied calmly.
“Oh, come on! I don’t have time—our raid starts in five minutes!” her husband groaned without taking his eyes off the screen.
Without a word, Ksenia went into the kitchen, poured water into a glass, and set it on the coffee table next to the couch. Sergey nodded without even looking at her.
“I’ll be home late tonight—the clinic’s open until nine,” the woman warned.
“Mm-hm,” her husband grunted, furiously clicking the mouse.
Ksenia left the apartment with a heavy sigh. Five years earlier, when they had just gotten married, Sergey worked as a sales manager and seemed like a responsible person. But after being laid off two years ago, he still hadn’t found a new job. More precisely, he hadn’t even looked. Every time Ksenia brought up employment, her husband came up with excuses: the pay was too low, the schedule was inconvenient, the management seemed unhinged at the interview.
It was a stressful day at the clinic. Ksenia was torn between the front desk, phone calls, and dissatisfied patients. Her workday ran from ten in the morning until nine at night, six days a week. She came home exhausted, but still cooked dinner and cleaned, because her husband didn’t lift a finger either to tidy up or to cook.
That evening Ksenia came home and found the morning’s dishes still sitting there unwashed. Sergey kept sitting at the computer—now wearing headphones—loudly commenting on some in-game situation.
“Seriozha, did you eat today?” his wife asked, taking off her jacket.
Her husband pulled off one headphone.
“Huh? No. The fridge is empty. I figured you’d buy something on the way.”
Ksenia bit her lip. She had cooked extra the day before so he’d have lunch. But apparently heating food in the microwave was too difficult a task.
“Fine, I’ll make something now,” the woman said wearily.
While Ksenia was cooking dinner, her phone rang. Her mother-in-law’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hello, Lyudmila Fyodorovna, good evening,” Ksenia answered.
“Ksenia, sweetheart, is Seriozha at home? Put him on, please—I need to talk to him urgently!”
Ksenia called her husband over. He reluctantly got up from the couch and took the phone.
“Mom, what happened?” Sergey listened for a minute, then his face fell. “Seriously? When? Why didn’t you tell me right away? Okay, we’ll figure something out.”
He handed the phone back to his wife and thoughtfully scratched the back of his head.
“Mom says she needs ten thousand for medicines. Her blood pressure is all over the place—the doctor prescribed new pills, expensive ones.”
Ksenia wiped her hands on a towel.
“Okay. I’ll transfer it tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Ksukh. You’re the best,” Sergey said, hugging his wife and kissing her cheek, then returning to his computer.
It wasn’t the first transfer to her mother-in-law. Over the past year, Ksenia had helped Lyudmila Fyodorovna about five or six times. Sometimes for medicine, sometimes to repair the refrigerator, sometimes for “urgent payments.” Ksenia hadn’t kept track of how much had gone out in total, but the sum was clearly substantial.
The next day, during her lunch break in the doctors’ room, Ksenia transferred ten thousand rubles to her mother-in-law. She had been saving that money for a new winter coat—her old one was completely worn out. Oh well. It would last one more season.
A week later Lyudmila Fyodorovna called again. This time she needed fifteen thousand to pay off some debt to a neighbor. Ksenia silently transferred the money again, even though that sum had been set aside to repair her laptop, which barely turned on anymore.
Two weeks later her mother-in-law asked for eight thousand for a new microwave. The old one had supposedly broken, and Lyudmila Fyodorovna couldn’t heat up food. Ksenia began to feel irritated, but her husband looked at her so plaintively that she gave in and sent the money again.
“Seriozha, maybe your mom could find a part-time job?” Ksenia suggested cautiously one evening. “There are jobs for retirees—like a concierge, or a cleaner.”
Her husband bristled.
“What are you even saying?! My mother worked her whole life—now she should rest! She’s fifty-six!”
“I don’t want to offend her. It’s just… she’s always short on money…”
“Because prices keep going up and her income is fixed!” Sergey cut her off. “You know how hard it is for older people these days. Do you really begrudge helping her?”
Ksenia fell silent. Arguing was pointless. She went back to washing dishes, and her husband went back to his game.
At the end of the month, Ksenia got her paycheck. As always, she carefully budgeted: groceries for the month, transit passes, internet, mobile service, utility bills. There wasn’t much left until the next paycheck two weeks later. She moved the utility money into a separate virtual account in the banking app so she wouldn’t spend it by accident.
The next morning, as Ksenia was getting ready for work, Sergey stopped her at the door.
“Ksukh, give me the card for a minute.”
“What for?” the woman asked in surprise.
“I need to make an in-game purchase. The promo ends today—fifty percent off.”
Ksenia frowned.
“Seriozha, we’re barely making it to payday. What purchase?”
“It’s only a couple thousand! I hardly ever ask!” her husband said, offended.
“No,” Ksenia said firmly. “Sorry, but I can’t right now. Next paycheck, okay?”
Sergey grimaced but didn’t argue. Ksenia left for work without even thinking her husband might take the card without permission. She trusted him and never hid her bag from him.
Three days later, the utility bills arrived in the mailbox. Ksenia opened the envelopes right in the stairwell and saw the payment deadline was the day after tomorrow. She needed to pay that same day, otherwise she’d forget in her frantic work schedule.
She took out her phone and opened the banking app. She scrolled to the virtual account with the set-aside utility money and froze. The account was empty. Ksenia blinked in confusion and checked again. Zero rubles.
She went back to the main screen and opened the transaction history. Scrolling through, she came across a transfer made the night before last. Thirty thousand rubles had been sent to Lyudmila Fyodorovna’s account.
Blood rushed to her face. Ksenia reread the line several times, not believing her eyes. Thirty thousand. Exactly the amount she had set aside for utilities. The money had gone without her knowledge, and only her husband could have done it.
All day Ksenia worked on autopilot. She smiled at patients, answered calls, filled out paperwork—but her thoughts were elsewhere. How dare Sergey take her card without asking? How could he transfer that amount without even warning her?
That evening Ksenia came home earlier than usual. Sergey was sitting in his usual spot, glued to the screen.
“Seriozha, we need to talk,” the woman said, taking off her jacket.
“Just a sec—this match is ending,” her husband mumbled without looking away from the game.
“Now,” Ksenia repeated firmly.
Her husband exhaled in irritation, took off his headphones, and turned to her.
“What happened?”
“Did you take my card the night before last?”
Sergey shrugged.
“Yeah, I did. So what?”
“Why did you transfer thirty thousand to your mother without my permission?”
“Mom called and said her loan was overdue. It had to be paid off urgently or they’d start charging penalties. So I transferred it.” He spoke as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Ksenia clenched her fists.
“Seriozha, that money was set aside for utilities. The bills are already here—we have to pay in the next few days.”
“So what? You’ll pay next month,” her husband waved it off. “Nothing terrible will happen.”
“How is that not terrible?!” Ksenia’s voice trembled. “They’ll charge late fees! They can cut off the water, the electricity, the heating!”
“They won’t,” Sergey said soothingly. “You’re exaggerating. A one-month delay doesn’t surprise anyone. But Mom was really facing problems. Debt collectors were calling, demanding she pay it off. You understand how hard that is for an older person, don’t you?”
Ksenia took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“Seriozha, I understand your mom needed help. But you had to ask me! That’s my money, my card!”
Sergey sprang up from the couch, his face turning red.
“What do you mean your money?!” he shouted. “We’re legally married! Everything is shared! Or do you think because I’m not working right now, I’m nobody here?!…”
“This is not what I think, but—”
“My mother needed help!” Sergey cut in, waving his hands. “Her loan was overdue! Do you even understand what that means?! And all you can think about are some pathetic utility bills!”
“Pathetic?!” Ksenia felt rage flooding through her body. “Seriozha, that’s thirty thousand rubles! That’s money for electricity, water, gas, trash removal! It matters!”
“Not more than my mother’s health!” her husband snapped. “Those calls from debt collectors put her in bed! Her blood pressure shot up! She was sick! And you’re talking about utilities!”
Ksenia took a step back.
“Fine. Let’s say your mom really was unwell. But why should I pay off her loan? Why don’t you get a job and help her yourself?”
Sergey’s face twisted.
“There! That’s what this is about!” he jabbed a finger in her direction. “You’re blaming me for being unemployed! You think I’m not trying to find work?! The job market is terrible right now! Everywhere it’s low pay, unpredictable hours, rude treatment!”
“In two years you’ve been to three interviews,” Ksenia said tiredly. “Three interviews in two years, Seriozha. That’s not job searching.”
“Are you spying on me?!” he bristled. “Tracking my every move?!”
“I live with you in the same apartment! I can see what you do!” Ksenia raised her voice. “You sit at the computer all day! You play games! You don’t clean, you don’t cook, you don’t even wash your own dishes! And now you’re taking my card without asking!”
“Oh, so that’s what this is!” Sergey threw up his hands theatrically. “You decided to list all my sins at once! So you’ve been building up, building up your resentment and now you’ve finally spilled it! Classic female tactic!”
“It’s not a tactic!” Ksenia grabbed her head. “It’s the truth! Seriozha, I work twelve-hour shifts six days a week! I support both of us! I pay for everything! Groceries, utilities, internet, clothes! I’m exhausted!”
“Exhausted?!” Sergey yelled even louder. “And you think I’m not exhausted sitting here with no money?! Having to beg my wife for every little thing?! You think that’s easy for me?!”
Ksenia went numb. She looked at her husband and didn’t recognize the man she had married. Where was that cheerful, responsible guy? When had he turned into this screaming creature who thought working was beneath him, yet demanded money?
“Seriozha,” Ksenia said quietly, “I don’t care where you get the money for the utilities. Get a job, borrow from friends, ask your mom to return the thirty thousand. But the utilities have to be paid.”
Her husband snorted.
“Ask Mom to return it? Are you out of your mind? She already took that money to the bank and paid off the loan! She doesn’t have anything!”
“Then find a job.”
“In a week?!” Sergey laughed hysterically. “You seriously think you can find a job in a week, start working, get paid, and cover your precious utilities?!”
“I think in two years you could’ve found any job and stopped living off me!” Ksenia shouted back.
A heavy silence fell. Sergey breathed hard, looking at his wife with barely hidden anger.
“So here’s how it is,” he said through clenched teeth. “Since I’m such a burden on you, since you’re such a hardworking provider, then deal with it yourself. Find the money for the utilities. It’s your apartment, your bills.”
“You took my money without asking,” Ksenia reminded him.
“For a good cause! My mother isn’t to blame that you don’t have enough money!”
Ksenia closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts. Then she opened them and looked him straight in the eye.
“Fine, Seriozha. Starting tomorrow, you cover your own expenses. I’m not giving you a single kopeck anymore.”
Her husband burst out laughing.
“Seriously? And how am I supposed to pay if I don’t have a job?”
“You’ll find one,” Ksenia replied calmly. “You’re an adult man. And I’m not helping your mother anymore either. Let her handle it herself—or you help her, since she’s so important to you.”
Sergey’s face contorted with rage.
“Oh yeah?!” he growled. “Then I’ll file for divorce! And I demand a division of property! Half this apartment is mine by law!”
Ksenia smirked. For the first time all evening, she felt relief.
“Seriozha, this apartment was left to me by my grandmother as an inheritance. Before our wedding. It’s my separate property and it’s not subject to division. Ask any lawyer.”
Her husband blinked at her, stunned.
“That can’t be! We’ve been married five years!”
“Doesn’t matter. Inheritance isn’t divided, even if it’s received during marriage. And mine was received before marriage,” Ksenia said, walking to the entryway and opening the closet. She pulled out a large gym bag and tossed it at his feet. “Pack your things. And go to the mother you love so much.”
“You can’t kick me out!” Sergey tried to protest, but his voice wavered.
“I can. This is my apartment. And I’m no longer willing to support you and your mother,” Ksenia crossed her arms over her chest. “You have half an hour.”
Sergey opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but stopped. He looked at his wife as if seeing her for the first time. Then he grabbed the bag sharply, went into the bedroom, and began throwing his things into it.
Twenty minutes later he stood by the door with the stuffed bag and a backpack.
“You’ll regret this,” her husband hissed. “No one will marry you. Nobody wants a woman who throws her husband out onto the street.”
“You’re not going to the street. You’re going to your mother,” Ksenia reminded him. “The same one you were defending so fiercely. Now you can live together.”
Sergey slammed the door so hard the glass rattled. Ksenia remained standing in the hallway, listening as his footsteps faded down the stairs.
Then she went into the room where her husband’s couch had stood for five years, sat down on the floor, and cried softly. Not out of pity for herself or for him. Out of relief. Five years of being a parasite were over. Now she could finally live for herself.
The next day Ksenia called her parents and told them about the divorce. Ivan Petrovich and Vera Stepanovna were not surprised. They had long seen that their son-in-law didn’t work and lived at their daughter’s expense, but they had kept quiet, not wanting to interfere.
“My dear girl, you did the right thing,” her father said. “Come to us on the weekend—we’ll talk.”
Ksenia took out a small loan to pay the utility bills. She paid it off a month later. And half a year after that, she officially divorced Sergey through the registry office. He didn’t object and didn’t claim the apartment after consulting a lawyer.
Lyudmila Fyodorovna called several more times, demanding money and accusing Ksenia of destroying the family. Ksenia simply blocked her number.
And Sergey stayed living with his mother, continuing to play computer games. Only now Lyudmila Fyodorovna was supporting him with her own money. Ksenia learned that from mutual acquaintances and only smirked. To each their own.
