— Irina, we are getting a divorce. Please be kind enough to move out by tomorrow.
— What? Anton, did I hear you right? Divorce?
— Yes.
— And why should I move out of my own apartment?
— Your own? You’re mistaken, baby. Here are the documents. Look: the sole owner is me.
Irina’s vision darkened. She had left work early today to come home and surprise her husband for their wedding anniversary. She had prepared everything, ordered food delivery… The guests would arrive in an hour. But it turned out they had prepared a surprise for her — and not a pleasant one.
— Wait, I don’t understand anything. Is this some kind of joke?
— No joke. I’ve made my decision, — Anton looked down on Irina arrogantly, clearly feeling superior.
— What decision? — Irina still couldn’t grasp what Anton was talking about.
— I’ll say it again: pack your things. You shouldn’t be here by morning. We’ll meet at the registry office on Monday at noon. I hope you won’t make a scene.
Irina stood in the kitchen holding a mixer; she had just been whipping cream for dessert. The last remnants of good mood and anticipation for socializing with friends were melting away like cotton candy in water.
— Anton, what divorce? Is this a joke? It’s our anniversary today! Friends will be here soon!
— Friends? — Anton frowned, then brightened. — Great! We’ll show them we’re parting on good terms! But that doesn’t cancel the divorce. Don’t forget: you shouldn’t be here in the morning.
An hour later, the apartment where they had happily lived together for almost 10 years was filled with the voices of friends. Warm words, bouquets, presents — Irina accepted them gratefully, and Anton asked everyone to save their congratulations for the feast. Then everyone sat down, and he gave the first toast.
— I want to thank my wife Ira for 10 wonderful years of marriage. You all know what we’ve been through together, how difficult it was at times. We both had ups and downs, but we always knew we had each other, — the guests applauded Anton, but he raised his hand to continue. — Today we are celebrating our last anniversary: we have decided to divorce. I thank Ira for always being my support and promise to keep a kind and tender attitude towards her.
The guests fell silent. Everyone looked at Irina. She barely held back tears but put on a warm smile and gave a reply toast.
— And you, Anton, thank you for being a husband. I hope things go well for you.
The guests were quietly surprised. Anton and Irina’s couple was really considered ideal, so the friends were as shocked by the news as Irina had been an hour and a half earlier.
Soon, Irina excused herself, citing a headache, went to the bedroom, and closed the door. So, what things should she pack? Clothes for the first time, photos, laptop, cat carrier. What else? Dishes, furniture, blankets? No, that’s stinginess. She couldn’t cut a blanket or mattress in half. She couldn’t saw the wardrobe or the TV.
— Well, Antoha, you really outdid yourselves! It’s my first time at an anti-wedding party! And Ira actually agreed to host it! — Denis’s voice came from the hallway, one of Anton and Irina’s friends.
— She’s a great woman! — Anton declared with undisguised pride.
— I know, I introduced you two. I still regret it, — Denis winked. — I wish I had someone like her! My ex kept nagging: not enough money, not enough attention…
— Then just marry Ira, she’s almost free! And you’re divorced.
The friends laughed. Denis’s laughter had a slight envy, Anton’s laughter was full of confidence and pride in how smoothly he pulled off his scheme.
There were very few things. The guests didn’t even notice how Irina dressed and left the house with a bag and a carrier. A taxi was waiting downstairs.
Half an hour later, Ira was sitting in her mother Valentina Ivanovna’s kitchen, crying.
— Ira, daughter, what happened? — Valentina Ivanovna hadn’t seen her daughter so unhappy since 25 years ago, when Irina’s father passed away.
— Mom, it was all a mistake. He proposed a divorce. Said the apartment was his. And that I should get out.
— Who, Anton? — Valentina Ivanovna said, then immediately covered her mouth with her hand: her beloved son-in-law couldn’t do that!
— Yes. I don’t know why.
— And what did you do?
— Packed my things and left.
— Daughter… — her mother shook her head.
Irina sat in her favorite armchair. The shocked cat immediately climbed onto her lap and pressed close, frightened. She stroked the pet’s soft fur and recalled the brightest events of her life.
Irina started working while still in school. She found side jobs that paid immediately: handing out flyers, conducting surveys, in summer weeding city flower beds and garden plots for neighbors at the dacha. Valentina Ivanovna couldn’t be happier with her helpful daughter. Irina saved part of her earnings in a piggy bank and gave some to her mother. The mother secretly saved that money too so Irina could eventually buy an apartment.
— Mommy! I got a budget place! — the recent schoolgirl Irina rejoiced.
— Which faculty did you decide on?
— Economics. Let money bring money!
— Exactly! I’m so happy you’ll get a good education!
— Mommy, I didn’t tell you one thing… I won’t study at the university branch in our city but at the university itself. They offered me a place in the admissions office. I accepted.
— What does that mean?
— That I’ll be far from you…
Valentina Ivanovna cried then: she didn’t want to let her daughter go! But the prospects were very promising…
In her third year, Irina and a friend rented an apartment to study and relax in peace. Later, the friend got married, and Irina found a new roommate: it was more economical to rent together!
— Mommy, I love you very much, but I will live independently. I’ll rent an apartment with someone, like I did at university, — Irina said when she returned to her hometown.
— Daughter, but you have a house, — her mother was surprised.
— And you have your own life, — Irina smiled. — You’re getting married, and newlyweds should live separately from children! So best wishes to you, and for me—a good apartment and decent neighbors!
— How wise you are, daughter, — laughed Valentina Ivanovna.
Irina really got a job and soon rented an apartment for two with a colleague. Her personal life was unsuccessful: there were some romances but nothing serious. Her colleague got married in six months. The new roommate was another colleague — who also got married soon. Among acquaintances, Irina became considered a talisman: if you lived in her apartment for a while, your love life would improve.
— Irka, you’re my best friend! — Denis packed his suitcase and sincerely thanked his former roommate for her help. Honestly, he was in love with Irina, but she never responded to his signs of attention. — If not for you, I’d never have met the love of my life!
— Go on, Romeo, to your Juliet! — laughed Irina. — And help me find a new roommate.
— I already found one. I have a colleague, Anton, a nice guy! — Denis, shining like a polished samovar, gave a thumbs-up. — Clean, cultured, won’t cause problems, be sure.
Anton really turned out to be an interesting man. He was three years older than Irina, worked in a very good company, and was quickly climbing the career ladder.
— Anton, why don’t you rent an apartment yourself? Why do you need a room with a roommate? — Irina asked one evening while they were having dinner in the kitchen.
— And why don’t you live alone? As far as I know, you are a co-founder of an accounting outsourcing firm.
— Yes, you’re right. We have a young company…
— … but very well-known! I’ve heard a lot about you, they say you have many clients.
— You’re right, — Irina smiled. She was pleased that her neighbor could appreciate what she did. — I’m saving for an apartment, so it’s convenient to rent with someone.
— And how were your previous roommates?
— Exceptionally interesting and decent people!
Anton smiled and unexpectedly said:
— You know, Irina, I’ve been living in the same apartment with you for a week now. You’re a wonderful neighbor. I think it’s time we switched to informal ‘you.’
— Agreed!
After a couple of months, Irina realized she had fallen in love with her new neighbor. It had never happened to her before. She liked everything about Anton: his eyes, smile, cologne scent, sense of humor. In mornings and evenings, when their schedules didn’t match, they left each other something tasty in the kitchen.
“Baked a pie but couldn’t eat it all. I know you’ll come home late, have dinner!” — such notes and carefully covered pies Anton often left.
“This is your breakfast: oatmeal pancake with cottage cheese and a piece of fish. Let me know if you liked it!” — Irina replied the same when she left for work earlier than Anton.
— Irin, I think I’m in love, — Anton blurted out once.
Irina almost cried hearing these words from Anton for the first time. She sincerely rejoiced for other neighbors when they found their halves. But this time, she herself fell in love.
— I see, — lowering her eyes so Anton wouldn’t see the tears, Ira answered. — Then tomorrow I’ll start looking for a new roommate.
— Silly girl, it’s you, — Anton unexpectedly said and touched her hand for the first time. The touch shocked Irina like electricity. — But if the feelings aren’t mutual, then we really will have to find new neighbors.
— We won’t…
Memories were interrupted by a phone call. “Beloved” — that’s how Anton was still saved in Irina’s phone.
— Irina, what does this mean?! Where are you? — he yelled into the phone anxiously.
— I’m at mom’s, — the woman answered calmly.
— What do you think you’re doing? Why did you leave the guests? How dare you leave while we have guests? Do you realize what kind of position you’ve put me in?!
— You yourself said I should clear out by morning.
— But not during the party! Now everyone’s looking at me sideways…
— Really?! — Irina theatrically exclaimed. — And what are they saying?
— Don’t you get it yourself? That I kicked you out!
— That’s right! You kicked me out of my apartment.
— No, I asked you to move out of MY apartment, — Anton emphasized.
— Anton, — Irina’s voice rang with indignation. — You know the apartment is entirely my doing! I saved 70% of the down payment. And I also paid all the installments.
— Well, sure, blame me for not being as cunning as you, not getting a high position, — Anton said offended. — That I got pushed out, lost my job. I knew you’d bring up all the failures to reproach me with a piece of bread in old age!
— What old age? You’re not even 40 yet! — Irina laughed bitterly.
— Exactly! I’m almost 40, want a family, kids. But it’s impossible with you…
Anton crossed the line with reproaches. Irina bit her lip and ended the call. Children… There had been a tragedy, and they lost their only daughter. Seeing his grieving wife, Anton said they both needed time to decide to become parents again. But no matter how much Irina hinted she wanted to hear children’s laughter in the house again, her husband always brushed it off.
Anton called back immediately.
— Don’t you dare hang up! — he screamed.
— Don’t yell at me, — Irina answered as calmly as possible.
— Anyway, I’m waiting for you at the registry office on Monday!
— No, Anton, in court.
— Why’s that?
— I won’t give you the apartment.
— Fool! — Anton laughed loudly. — Any court would just look at the documents and laugh you off. I’m the sole owner!
Anton was right. When they decided to buy the apartment, he suggested not to bother and put it in his name only. He said it didn’t matter whose name was on the papers since they were family. And Irina somehow believed him.
— But… — she tried to object.
— What “but”? I need the apartment more. I’ll get married right after the divorce; we’ll have a baby in six months. So no one needs your antics!
Ira hung up again. Six months?! So while she was working like a heavy horse, her husband was seeing someone else? She wouldn’t leave him anything, she’d fight to the last! All gloom vanished like wind.
— Vyacheslav Borisovich? Hello, I’m Irina, Anton Sergeev’s wife. Remember, he worked for you? — Irina came to the head of the company where her husband recently worked.
— Irina, hello, of course, I remember your husband, and I remember you too, — the tall, elderly man confidently shook her hand and then pointed to two chairs where they could talk informally.
— That’s very good. I need your help.
— What kind?
— A reference for Anton.
— Irina, I know you as an excellent specialist and, excuse my frankness, a very beautiful woman. Many of my acquaintances are your company’s clients. So allow me to be honest.
— Of course, — Irina was surprised.
— I won’t be able to give a positive reference for Anton.
— Why? — strangely enough, Irina expected that answer and was pleased.
— You see, he only resigned without a scandal because of you. Out of respect for your professionalism, I didn’t want to spoil the reputation.
— What does that mean?
— Shortly before the staff reshuffle, Anton was caught in fraud. It’s better you don’t know the sums involved. And after his dismissal, I checked around: everywhere he worked, Anton tried to run shady schemes.
— Even that? — Irina was glad.
— Yes, — the man looked at Irina in amazement. — I can testify to that in any court!
— Vyacheslav Borisovich, thank you very much, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Can you really testify in court?
— Is that necessary?
— Yes.
— Alright, — Vyacheslav Borisovich shrugged. — I have nothing to hide; I run an honest business.
The more witnesses Irina found, the more horrified she was. It turned out she didn’t know her own husband at all! Yes, to friends he was a great guy. At every new job, people fell under his charm but later discovered shortages. Only Vyacheslav Borisovich caught Anton red-handed; others couldn’t find proof. So the apartment scheme was just the tip of the iceberg.
— Irish, I thought you knew, — Denis, Anton’s friend, said apologetically before the court; he couldn’t believe Anton treated Irina that way. — He transferred large sums to his mother. I asked if you knew, and he said, of course, you knew.
— No, I didn’t know. I thought Anton wasn’t getting raises or bonuses because he was being set up.
— What! — Denis laughed. — When we worked together, I envied him: same position, same results, but he earned more.
— He told me it was the opposite.
— Yeah. Apparently, I was wrong about my friend too.
— I want my apartment back, will you support me in court?
— Yes, Irish, of course, — Denis promised to stand by her until she sorted everything out.
Together with a lawyer, Irina found several witnesses whose testimony was enough to open a criminal case.
A few days before the property division court hearing, Anton asked Irina to meet. They agreed to meet at the cafe where he proposed. Irina smirked: last time he proposed marriage; this time he was taking away both her heart and all property acquired in 10 years, mostly with her money.
— Ira, don’t be silly, no court will leave you the apartment. The most you can hope for is if I pay you something.
— Are you sure?
— Yes, learn the law, — the ex-husband lightly snapped Irina’s nose tip.
— Well, if I lose, you can safely bring your new wife to my home.
— MY home, — Anton corrected. — By the way, want to take anything from there? Appliances or furniture?
— No, I don’t want.
— Right. You don’t need it; we do. But I’m generous: I offer 200,000 rubles severance.
Irina raised her eyes full of surprise, opened her mouth to say something, then burst out laughing.
— Oh, I can’t! Severance! 200,000! What unprecedented generosity! — Irina laughed so hard tears appeared in her eyes.
— You’re such a… — Anton answered angrily. — You won’t get anything — you refused yourself.
Proving Anton’s non-involvement in the apartment purchase was easier than easy. The lawyer provided statements of Anton and Irina’s bank account movements, found evidence that Irina paid the down payment and later invested in repairs and furnishing. Vyacheslav Borisovich and several others testified.
— Wait, I don’t get it. What does it mean: you don’t have an apartment? — Anton’s future wife, a vulgar and rude woman, made a scene right on the street.
— It turns out I don’t, — Anton stood pale and couldn’t believe the court decision.
— And where will we live? — the woman’s voice was full not of irony but harsh sarcasm.
— Let’s rent, — Anton quietly suggested.
— No way. I won’t let you on my doorstep. Otherwise, you’ll claim it’s your apartment and kick us out with the kid like a fox chasing a hare from a bark hut!
— So, at first we’ll rent.
— Yes, you’ll rent. I’ll live at my place. Wait, daddy, the bailiffs will come in six months, — Anton’s failed fiancée turned and strutted to the car.
— They won’t prove anything! We’re not married! — Anton grasped at a saving thought.
— First, the DNA test will show if that’s the child’s. Second, at least 10 people heard your confession today that you’re going to marry me and have a baby.
At that moment Anton saw Irina walking with Denis. Ex-wife and ex-friend. Traitors!
— How dare you do this!
— How? Claim the apartment you bought yourself?
— You’re a liar and a traitor!
— Wait, weren’t you the one cheating on me? Weren’t you the one who kicked me out?
— You left yourself!
— Yes, after you said, “I don’t want to see your face tomorrow!”
— Maybe I was wrong, — Anton lowered his eyes as if apologizing.
— Not maybe, definitely!
— How dare you! Of all people, from you…
Irina stopped listening to the stream of insults. She and Denis calmly got into a taxi and drove away. Anton was left standing alone in the street.
Irina returned to her apartment after work in the evening. A carefully left-on lamp was burning in the hallway. At the door, the cat frowned disapprovingly: it had to wake up to meet its owner. While Ira fed the cat and prepared dinner, the door opened, and a gentle male voice asked:
— You’re home already, my dear?
— Yes, my love! Change quickly, my hands — I’ve warmed up dinner.
— How lucky I am with you! You’re a true treasure!
— Then take care!
— I do. Especially since soon we’ll have another treasure…
Denis gently hugged Irina and placed his hand on her rounded belly.
— It’s moving!
— Of course! It knows how much everyone is waiting and loving it…
Happiness is when you can trust your loved one and know: he will never let you down.