Marina frowned. A letter with the bank’s logo lay on the kitchen table—the third one this month. She reached for the letter opener, her heart beating out of rhythm. Something was wrong.
“Dear Viktor Nikolaevich… payment overdue… subject to penalty… collateralized property…”
Collateralized property? What property?
“Vitya!” she shouted, holding the letter between two fingers as if it were a venomous snake. “Get in here!”
Her husband appeared in the doorway, face calm, but his eyes darted when he saw the envelope.
“What loan for two million?” Marina felt the tips of her fingers go cold. “And what does ‘collateralized property’ mean?”
“Marina, what’s this about?” Viktor took a step back. “What loan?”
“Don’t pretend!” She flung the letter onto the table. “Three letters have come! You took a loan? Against our apartment? Without telling me?”
Viktor swallowed. He lowered his eyes.
“It’s… temporary difficulties. I’ll pay it all back.”
“Two million?” Marina’s hands began to tremble. “What ‘difficulties,’ for God’s sake? What did you spend it on?”
“Don’t yell,” Viktor dropped into a chair. “I wanted to sort it out myself.”
“We’ve lived together for forty years!” Marina exhaled. “Forty! And you did this?”
She sat down across from him, trying to steady her hands.
“Tell me everything. Right now.”
“I invested in a thing…” Viktor began. “Tolik suggested it. Guaranteed income, he said. And then he disappeared. His phone’s off.”
“Tolik? Your buddy from the plant?” Marina shut her eyes. “And how many payments are overdue?”
“Three months.”
“Good Lord! And you said nothing?”
The phone rang so sharply they both flinched. Marina glanced at the screen—it was their daughter, Katya.
“Hi, Mom,” Katya sounded cheerful. “How are you two?”
“Fine,” Marina lied, looking at her crestfallen husband.
“Are you sure? You sound strange.”
“Everything’s fine, Katya.”
“Okay. Dima and I will stop by tomorrow, all right?”
“Of course,” Marina hung up and turned to her husband. “Do you realize they can take the apartment now?”
“They won’t,” Viktor looked up. “I’ll work it out.”
“With whom? The bank? They won’t listen to you!” Marina stood. “What were you even looking at when you signed?”
“I thought it would work out!”
“And now what?” She swept her gaze over the kitchen—so familiar, so cozy. “Are we going to end up on the street?”
“I’ll fix it. I promise.”
“How? Where would you get that kind of money? Your pension is peanuts, we have no savings.”
Viktor stayed silent. Marina suddenly felt bone-tired.
“You know what,” she exhaled, trying to calm down. “In the morning we’re going to the bank. Together. We’ll find out what can be done.”
The night passed without sleep. Marina lay on the edge of the bed, turned away from her husband. How could he? Forty years together, they’d raised children, discussed everything… And then this betrayal.
In the morning a young manager with a pasted-on smile greeted them at the bank.
“Well now, Petrov, Viktor Nikolaevich?” He clicked his mouse. “Three months overdue; the total debt is growing. It’s already two million three hundred.”
“What can we do?” Marina asked, her head splitting.
The manager shrugged.
“Restructuring is possible. But we need a first payment—at least two hundred thousand.”
Two hundred thousand! They didn’t have that kind of money.
“And if we can’t pay?” Viktor asked quietly.
“Standard procedure. The collateral will be sold at auction.”
Marina closed her eyes. Their apartment was all they had. Where would they go?
They went home in silence. Viktor went straight to the bedroom, and Marina sat in the kitchen, staring blankly out the window. How to tell the children? What now?
Her phone pinged with a message from her sister: “How are you? Long time no see.”
Marina put the phone aside. No, she wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Not yet.
The doorbell sliced through the quiet. Katya and her husband had come as promised. Marina opened the door, forcing a smile.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Katya hugged her. “Did something happen?”
“It’s fine,” Marina let them in.
“Where’s Dad?” Dima asked, looking around.
“In the bedroom,” Marina tossed back.
Viktor appeared in the hall, greeted his son-in-law, hugged his daughter. They all went into the kitchen.
“Tea?” Marina asked mechanically.
“Mom, what is it?” Katya frowned. “Did you two fight or something?”
Marina looked at her husband. Viktor lowered his eyes.
“Are you going to tell them, or should I?” Marina folded her arms.
“I’ll say it,” Viktor muttered. “Katya, you see… we’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Your father,” Marina couldn’t hold it in, “took a two-million loan secured by the apartment. And he hasn’t paid for three months.”
Katya gasped. Dima straightened in his chair.
“What?” Katya looked from her father to her mother. “Dad, are you serious?”
“I wanted to make things better,” Viktor mumbled. “Tolik said that—”
“Tolik who?” Katya shot to her feet. “What have you done?!”
“Calm down,” Dima put a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“How am I supposed to calm down?” Katya was almost shouting. “They’ll lose the apartment! Where will they go?”
“We’ll find a way,” Dima spoke quietly. “Let’s think together.”
“What way?” Katya threw up her hands. “You know Dad—he’s always getting mixed up in some scheme! And Mom just puts up with it!”
“Don’t yell at your father,” Marina rubbed her temples, exhausted.
“And you’re always defending him!” Katya turned to her mother. “He’ll throw you out on the street, and you’ll still say ‘don’t yell’?”
“I’ll fix it,” Viktor lifted his head. “I promise.”
“How?” Katya planted her hands on her hips. “How will you fix it?”
A heavy silence fell.
“Move in with us,” Dima offered. “For a while.”
“No,” Marina shook her head. “That’s not a solution.”
“Then what is?” Katya sat back down. “Mom, you need to get a divorce.”
“What?” Marina flinched.
“A divorce. To save at least your share,” Katya said briskly. “Otherwise you’ll lose everything.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Marina pressed her lips together. “We’ve lived forty years together and you—”
“Oh, Mom, enough about forty years!” Katya rolled her eyes. “He’s ruined you! You have to do something!”
Marina rose from the table.
“Thanks for the advice. We’ll handle it ourselves.”
“Dad,” Katya turned to her father, “do you at least understand what you’ve done?”
Viktor nodded without looking up.
When the kids left, the apartment felt even quieter. Marina washed the dishes, scrubbing the plates with a vengeance.
“Marina,” Viktor came up behind her. “Forgive me. I’ve ruined everything.”
She said nothing.
“Maybe Katya’s right?” he barely whispered. “Maybe we should divorce? You could at least save your share.”
Marina turned off the tap and faced him.
“You’re suggesting I dump you?” Her voice shook. “After all we’ve been through?”
“I let you down. I don’t deserve—”
“You know what,” she dried her hands on a towel. “Go to bed. We’ll decide tomorrow.”
That night Marina didn’t sleep. Options churned in her head, each worse than the last. By morning she knew what to do.
“Vitya,” she shook his shoulder. “Get up. We need to talk.”
He sat up, sleepy and rumpled.
“I’ve got a plan. We’ll rent out the apartment.”
“Rent it out?” He blinked. “And where are we going to live?”
“I’ll rent a room. You can go to your brother—he’s been inviting you for ages.”
“Are you crazy? How can we live like that?”
“What else can we do?” Marina shrugged. “Rent will bring good money. We’ll pay down the debt.”
“That’s no life, Marina,” Viktor shook his head. “You’re pushing sixty—what room?”
“What choice do we have? The bank won’t wait.”
The phone rang—it was Marina’s sister, Tanya.
“Hello,” Marina answered. “Hi, Tanya.”
“Marinka, Katya told me everything,” Tanya’s voice rang with indignation. “What has your man come to? Has he completely lost it?”
Marina rolled her eyes. Of course Katya had called everyone.
“Tanya, don’t start.”
“How can I not? You’ll lose the apartment! Kick him out and file a fraud complaint!”
“What fraud? He’s my husband.”
“Exactly! Your husband! And he behaved like a complete bastard!” Tanya didn’t let up. “Marina, you’ve always been too soft on him. Enough!”
“Tanya, I’ll handle it myself.”
“How? By forgiving him again? No way, I’m coming over today. We’ll talk.”
Marina sighed.
“Come if you want.”
She hung up and looked at her husband.
“Tanya’s coming. She’s going to tear into you.”
“I’ll survive,” Viktor lowered his head. “I deserve it.”
By noon not only Tanya had arrived, but Marina’s son, Kostya, too—tall, serious, the spitting image of his father in his youth.
“Mom,” he hugged Marina. “What’s going on here?”
“Katya told you?” Marina asked wearily.
“Yeah. Dad,” he turned to his father, “how could you?”
“Kostya, don’t start,” Marina waved a hand. “We’ve made a decision.”
“What decision?”
“We’re going to rent out the apartment. I’ll take a room.”
“What?!” Tanya, sitting at the table, jumped up. “Are you out of your mind?”
“What else can we do?” Marina shrugged. “We need the money.”
“Kick that swindler out!” Tanya jabbed a finger toward Viktor. “Let him dig himself out of this!”
“This is our problem,” Marina said calmly. “We’ll solve it.”
“Dad,” Kostya sat across from his father, “do you understand that because of you Mom will be drifting from room to room?”
“I understand,” Viktor nodded. “But I’m against that. I’ll leave instead.”
“Leave where?” Marina shook her head. “Your brother lives in a studio—where would he put you?”
“I’ll find something.”
“I’m telling you—get a divorce!” Tanya pounded her fist on the table. “Marina, stop being a doormat!”
“Enough, Tanya!” Marina raised her voice. “He’s my husband and this is my life!”
“Mom, Aunt Tanya has a point,” Kostya cut in. “A divorce would save at least some assets.”
“What assets?” Marina threw up her hands. “The apartment is pledged in full!”
“Go see a lawyer,” Kostya pulled out his phone. “I know a guy.”
“I’m not going to any lawyer,” Marina snapped. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“Marina,” Tanya took her hand, “you don’t get it. You’ll forgive him now, and tomorrow he’ll pull something else.”
“I won’t,” Viktor said dully.
“Oh, he speaks!” Tanya turned on him. “Aren’t you ashamed?”
“I am,” he nodded. “Very ashamed.”
“Listen,” Marina stood, “I appreciate your concern. But Viktor and I have decided. We’ll rent the apartment and pay the debt.”
“And where will you live?” Kostya stared at his mother.
“I’ll rent a room.”
“Come stay with me,” Kostya offered. “There’s space.”
“No, son,” Marina smiled. “You just got married; you two are cramped as it is.”
“So you’re going to wander from room to room?” Tanya threw up her hands. “Because of this… this…”
“That’s enough,” Marina raised a hand. “The decision’s made.”
When everyone finally left, Marina sank onto the couch, exhausted.
“They’re right, Marina,” Viktor sat beside her. “I’m not worth such sacrifices.”
“Stop it,” she closed her eyes. “I’m not doing this for you.”
“For what then?”
“For us. For the fact that we’ve been together forty years. For the fact that family means ‘for better or worse.’ Not just when things are good.”
Two weeks later Marina moved into a room on the outskirts of the city. Viktor settled in a friend’s garage—“temporarily,” as he put it. They rented the apartment to a young couple for thirty thousand a month.
Marina took a part-time evening job as a cashier at a supermarket. After her day job in accounting she barely had the strength, but they needed the money desperately.
“Marina, this is madness,” Tanya said, visiting her sister in the rented room. “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re all drawn.”
“I’ll get through it,” Marina brewed tea in the tiny kitchen she shared with other tenants. “It’s not my first rough patch.”
“And your man—does he at least work?” Tanya grimaced. “Or is he still hanging off your neck?”
“Vitya’s working two jobs,” Marina set out some cookies. “He got on at an auto shop and as a night watchman.”
“And how long will you keep this up?” Tanya shook her head. “A year? Two?”
“As long as it takes,” Marina shrugged. “The bank gave us an eighteen-month installment plan.”
Tanya left, and Marina sat by the window for a long time. It was hard, but a strange calm had settled in her. She knew she was doing the right thing.
Viktor came every weekend. He brought groceries, helped clean, screwed in lightbulbs, fixed the faucet. They drank tea in the tiny kitchen and talked about the kids, about work, about the weather. They tried not to mention the debt.
“Every day I thank God you didn’t leave me,” he said once, looking out the window. “Most would have.”
“We’re a family, Vitya,” she answered simply. “That’s the whole point.”
Six months passed. Katya called rarely—she was offended that her mother hadn’t taken her advice. Kostya stopped by now and then with fruit, offering help. Marina refused:
“You’ve got your own family, son. We have to manage ourselves.”
By the end of the year Viktor found a better job at a logistics company. His salary went up, and they could pay more toward the loan.
“Marina, maybe we should rent a place together?” he suggested one day. “I can afford it now.”
“No, Vitya,” Marina shook her head. “Every penny counts. We’ll hold out.”
A year went by. The debt was cut in half. Marina had lost weight, more gray threaded her hair, but her eyes were as steady as ever.
“You know,” Tanya said on a visit, “I was wrong. I thought you were a fool for forgiving him. But now I see—you’re wiser than all of us.”
“It’s not wisdom, Tanya,” Marina smiled. “It’s love.”
On the day they made the final payment, Viktor arrived with a bouquet of flowers.
“That’s it, Marina,” he beamed. “We’re paid up. We can go home.”
Marina looked at her husband and smiled. They had changed a lot over the past year. Both had grown older, but something new had appeared between them—a deep understanding, a quiet gratitude.
“You know,” Viktor took her hand, “I’ve learned a lot from this. Money is nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.”
The tenants moved out a week later. Marina washed the floors, dusted, hung the curtains. The apartment was becoming their home again.
That evening the children came—Katya with her husband, Kostya with his wife.
“Well, Mom,” Katya hugged Marina, “you were right. You made it.”
“We made it,” Marina nodded. “Together.”
“Dad,” Kostya shook his father’s hand, “I underestimated you. I thought you’d break.”
“I would have,” Viktor smiled, “if not for your mother.”
When the children left, Marina and Viktor sat on the couch in their living room—familiar, dear.
“It was a hard year,” Marina sighed.
“But we learned a lot,” Viktor took her hand. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not leaving. For believing. For the fact that ‘family’ isn’t just a word to you.”
Marina rested her head on his shoulder. Snow was falling outside, blanketing the city in white. A new page in their life was beginning with a clean slate.
“Nothing happens for nothing, Vitya,” she said softly. “We’ve grown stronger. And we’ve learned to value each other all over again.”
He nodded silently. Sometimes you have to go through trials to understand the main thing: a real family stays together in joy and in sorrow. To the very end.