Alexandra slipped the key into the lock and froze.
From behind the door came voices — male voices, loud and cheerful. Laughter. The clinking of glasses.
She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.
Again.
Guests again.
She pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment. In the kitchen, three men were sitting around the table — Daniil’s friends. One of them, red-haired Artyom, was telling some story, waving his arms around wildly. The others burst out laughing.
Her husband noticed her and waved happily.
“Sasha, hi! Look who came by!”
Alexandra nodded and took off her jacket.
“Hi.”
“Sasha, why are you just standing there?” Daniil smiled broadly, almost childishly. “Set the table, will you? The guys are hungry.”
Without a word, Alexandra walked to the refrigerator. She opened it and looked inside. Half a stick of sausage, some cheese, tomatoes, eggs. For three guests plus her husband.
Would it be enough?
“Sasha, maybe you could make some kind of salad?” Daniil continued.
She took the food out and placed it on the counter. Then she began slicing the sausage. Behind her, voices kept rising — jokes, laughter, cheerful noise. She cut the sausage, arranged it on a plate. Then the cheese. Then the tomatoes. Finally, she brought everything to the table.
“Oh, perfect! Thanks, sweetheart!”
Daniil kissed her on the cheek.
Alexandra went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. A tired face. Dark circles under her eyes. She was only thirty-two, but sometimes she felt as if she were fifty.
She worked as a manager at a construction company. Her hours were unpredictable, her boss was demanding, and her clients were impossible to please. Every evening she came home exhausted, dreaming of collapsing onto the couch and not moving.
But almost every evening, there were guests in the apartment.
Not just guests.
A crowd.
Daniil’s friends, his colleagues, cousins, uncles, aunts, parents. They came without warning, sat down at the table, and waited to be fed.
And Alexandra fed them.
She chopped salads, fried meat, cooked soup, baked pies. Then she washed mountains of dishes until midnight. The guests left full and satisfied, while Alexandra fell into bed completely drained.
Every weekend.
Sometimes even on weekdays.
Someone’s birthday in the family. Someone had simply “stopped by.” Someone wanted to watch football on TV. And every time, the table had to be loaded with food.
Daniil loved hosting people. He always said a home should be open, and that family was sacred.
Alexandra returned to the kitchen. The guys were already eating sausage and cheese, washing it down with beer.
“Sasha, isn’t there anything hot?” red-haired Artyom asked.
“No,” Alexandra answered shortly.
“Maybe boil some dumplings?” Daniil suggested.
“There aren’t any.”
“Then maybe go buy some?”
Alexandra looked at her husband for a long moment. Then she turned around and went into the bedroom. She shut the door and lay down on the bed.
From the kitchen, the party continued. She could hear the laughter. Daniil saying something. His friends laughing again. The refrigerator opening and closing.
At eleven at night, the guests finally left.
Daniil came into the bedroom, looking pleased with himself.
“Sasha, why did you go to bed? Come on, let’s wash the dishes.”
Alexandra got up silently and walked into the kitchen. On the table was a pile of dirty plates, glasses, and forks. In the sink — a frying pan and a pot.
She rolled up her sleeves and began washing.
“We had a good time, didn’t we?” Daniil stood nearby, scrolling through his phone. “Artyom told such a funny story, I nearly died laughing.”
Alexandra said nothing. She scrubbed a plate with the sponge, rinsed it, and placed it on the drying rack.
“Sasha, why are you so quiet?”
“I’m tired.”
“You’ll rest later. At least we had fun.”
Alexandra tightened her grip on the sponge but stayed silent.
She finished the dishes at half past eleven. Her hands smelled of detergent, and her back ached. She went to bed without even having the strength to wash her face properly.
A week passed.
On Saturday morning, Daniil’s parents arrived — Antonina Semyonovna and Stepan Viktorovich. After them came his sister Irina with her husband Viktor and their two children.
Alexandra set the table: borscht, fried potatoes, salads, pies. She sat there listening to the conversations. Antonina Semyonovna complained about the neighbors. Stepan Viktorovich discussed the news. The children ran around the apartment, shouting and knocking things over.
On Sunday, Daniil’s friends came over — six of them. They watched football, drank beer, ate chips and nuts. Alexandra ordered pizza for them with her own money because she had no strength left to cook.
On Monday evening, Alexandra sat down with a calculator and a notebook. She pulled out every receipt from the past month.
Groceries.
Groceries.
Groceries.
She added the amounts, checked them, counted again.
The final number made her exhale sharply.
Forty-two thousand rubles.
On food.
In one month.
She opened the notebook where she tracked expenses. Last month — thirty-eight thousand. The month before — forty-one. On average, around forty thousand rubles a month went to food.
And Alexandra herself barely ate much. Yogurt for breakfast, lunch in the office cafeteria, tea and a sandwich for dinner.
Most of the money went to guests.
Constant, hungry guests who appeared every other day.
Alexandra placed the calculator on the table and rubbed her temples.
Forty thousand.
Almost half her salary.
To feed other people.
The next evening, Alexandra finally decided to talk to her husband. She waited until Daniil had finished dinner, then sat across from him.
“Danya, I need to discuss something with you.”
He looked up from his phone.
“What happened?”
Alexandra placed the receipts on the table.
“Look at these.”
“What are they?”
“Receipts from the past month. For groceries.”
Daniil flipped through a few pieces of paper and shrugged.
“So?”
“Forty-two thousand rubles, Daniil. In one month. On food.”
“Well, that’s normal. Groceries are expensive these days.”
“Danya, it isn’t normal. There are only two of us. We shouldn’t be spending this much.”
“Sasha, we have guests. We have to feed them.”
“Exactly. Guests. Your guests. Every weekend. Sometimes during the week too.”
Daniil frowned.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying it’s hitting our wallet. Our budget. We can’t keep spending forty thousand a month on groceries.”
“Sasha, you’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not exaggerating. Here are the receipts. Count them yourself.”
Daniil waved her off.
“Sasha, enough. Everything is fine. Don’t make drama out of nothing.”
“Daniil, I’m serious. We need to have fewer guests.”
“What? They’re my family! My friends!”
“I understand. But they come too often.”
“Sasha, don’t talk nonsense. Family is sacred.”
Alexandra clenched her fists under the table.
“And money?”
“We’ll find it somehow.”
“How? I’m already spending half my salary on food.”
“Then spend less on yourself. On makeup and clothes and all that stuff.”
Alexandra fell silent.
It was useless.
Daniil was not listening.
A few days later, during dinner, Alexandra raised the subject again.
“Danya, let’s at least limit guests to once a week. On weekends.”
Daniil slammed his fork down on the table.
“Sasha, are you starting again?”
“I’m just asking you to understand. We’re spending too much.”
“Feed the guests instead of counting money,” he snapped, gripping the fork so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Alexandra said nothing.
Inside, everything boiled, but she held herself back. She got up from the table and cleared the dishes. Daniil went into the living room and turned on the television.
Alexandra stood at the sink washing plates.
Thinking.
Weighing everything.
Making a decision.
The next morning, over breakfast, Alexandra spoke calmly, without emotion.
“Danya, I have a suggestion.”
“What suggestion?”
“Let’s separate our budget.”
Daniil looked up from his plate.
“What?”
“Separate the budget. Each of us spends our own money on our own needs. Shared expenses get split in half.”
Her husband thought for a moment. Alexandra saw something flash in his eyes.
Cunning?
Satisfaction?
“Good idea,” Daniil said unexpectedly. “It’s about time. I’m the one working while you throw money around left and right.”
Alexandra bit her lip.
Daniil earned eighty thousand. She earned seventy-five. Almost the same.
But he was convinced she was the reckless spender.
“Fine,” she said. “Then we start tomorrow.”
“Deal.”
Daniil looked pleased.
Alexandra could see it on his face. He clearly thought he would now be able to prove how wasteful she was.
Alexandra started a separate notebook. She wrote down every purchase. Kept every receipt. Every ruble spent on shared needs — utilities, internet, household products — she split in half and asked Daniil for his share.
At first he was surprised, but he paid.
A week passed.
Daniil lived as before. He invited friends over, bought beer and chips. But the main groceries — meat, vegetables, grains — Alexandra now bought only for herself.
She no longer cooked for him.
Daniil noticed, but didn’t give it much thought. He assumed she was just tired.
On Saturday evening, Daniil came into the bedroom, where Alexandra was reading a book.
“Sasha, my parents are coming over.”
“All right.”
“Will you cook something?”
“No.”
Daniil blinked.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I won’t cook.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are your guests. Under our new rules, they are your expense.”
He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard.
“Sasha, are you serious?”
“Completely.”
“But they’re my parents!”
“Your parents. Your guests. If you want to host them, buy the food and cook it yourself.”
“Sasha, are you joking?”
“No, Daniil. You agreed to separate the budget. So I’m separating it.”
Daniil jumped up from the bed.
“This is absurd! You can’t do this!”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re my family!”
“And?”
“Sasha, you’re embarrassing me! What are my parents supposed to think?”
“They’ll think their son fed them himself. Is that bad?”
Daniil began pacing around the room, nervously clenching and unclenching his fists.
“You’re greedy! Petty! Counting pennies in front of my family!”
Alexandra closed her book and looked at him calmly.
“Danya, you agreed to separate the budget. Now we’re living by the new rules.”
“I didn’t think you’d take everything so literally!”
“How was I supposed to take it?”
“Normally! Like normal people!”
“Daniil, every month I spend forty thousand rubles on groceries. Most of it goes to your guests. I’m not going to pay for that anymore.”
“So you’re greedy!”
“No. I just don’t want to feed other people at my own expense.”
Daniil exploded.
He began shouting, accusing her of selfishness, coldness, stinginess. Alexandra sat and listened without interrupting. Without defending herself. She simply listened.
“You’ve always been like this!” Daniil yelled. “Always! Counting every coin! Always unhappy! Always complaining about something! I’m tired of you! Tired of your nagging! Tired of your constant saving! You’re ruining my life!”
Alexandra stood up from the bed.
She walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a bag, and began packing her things.
“What are you doing?” Daniil stopped mid-sentence.
“Packing.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my friend’s place.”
“Sasha, have you lost your mind?”
“No. I’ve just realized there’s nothing left for me here.”
“Because of one dinner?”
“Not because of dinner, Daniil. Because of what you said. That I’m ruining your life.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Yes, you did. Exactly like that.”
Alexandra folded jeans, T-shirts, underwear into the bag. Then her makeup bag. Phone charger. Documents.
Daniil stood nearby, confused.
“Sasha, don’t leave. Let’s talk calmly.”
“We already talked.”
“I just lost my temper!”
“No. You said what you really think.”
The doorbell rang.
Daniil went to open it and returned with his parents.
Antonina Semyonovna stepped into the bedroom and looked at Alexandra packing.
“What is going on?”
“Your son will explain,” Alexandra replied shortly.
“Danya, what happened?”
Daniil began speaking quickly, nervously.
“Mom, she refuses to cook for you! She says you’re my expense!”
Antonina Semyonovna frowned.
“Alexandra, is that true?”
“Yes.”
“How can you say that? We are your family!”
“No, Antonina Semyonovna. You are Daniil’s family. Not mine.”
“What insolence! Danya, do you hear what your wife is saying?”
“Mom, I tried to talk to her, but she won’t listen!”
Stepan Viktorovich entered the room and stood beside his wife.
“What’s all this noise about?”
“Our daughter-in-law refuses to feed us! She says we’re strangers!”
“Alexandra, shame on you!” her father-in-law said indignantly. “We are Daniil’s parents!”
Alexandra zipped her bag and put on her jacket.
“I’m sorry, but I’m leaving.”
“Where?”
“That is none of your business.”
Antonina Semyonovna blocked her path to the door.
“Stop! You can’t just leave!”
“Yes, I can.”
“Alexandra, come to your senses! You’re destroying your family!”
“No. Your son did that. When he called me greedy because I refused to feed his guests.”
“You are greedy!” her mother-in-law snapped. “A normal wife gladly welcomes her husband’s family! And you count every penny!”
Alexandra walked around Antonina Semyonovna and headed toward the exit.
Daniil grabbed her by the arm.
“Sasha, don’t go. Please.”
Alexandra pulled her arm free.
“Let me go.”
“Sasha…”
“Let go.”
Daniil released her.
Alexandra left the apartment and closed the door behind her. Behind her, she could still hear her mother-in-law shouting and her husband’s voice.
But she did not turn back.
She went down the stairs and stepped out onto the street.
She called a taxi, gave the driver her friend’s address, and sat in the back seat. Then she took out her phone and wrote to Lena:
“Can I come to you? For a while.”
The reply came a minute later.
“Of course. I’m waiting.”
Alexandra arrived at Lena’s place late that evening. Her friend opened the door and hugged her without asking questions.
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later. Can I just sit for a bit?”
“Of course.”
Alexandra sat on the couch and leaned back. Lena brought tea and sat beside her.
The two women sat in silence.
Alexandra drank her tea and thought.
Three years of marriage.
Three years of feeding her husband’s guests, washing their dishes, cleaning the apartment after them. Three years of listening to Daniil say that family was sacred.
And when she finally asked him to respect her boundaries, he called her greedy.
No tears came.
Only a cold clarity settled in her mind.
The next morning, Alexandra filed for divorce.
When Daniil found out, he called her, his voice confused and frightened.
“Sasha, you filed for divorce?”
“Yes.”
“How… how could you?”
“Easily.”
“Sasha, let’s talk! I understand everything now. I’ll change!”
“It’s too late, Daniil.”
“Sasha, please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Goodbye.”
Alexandra ended the call. Then she blocked her husband’s number on every messenger. After that, she called a lawyer she had once worked with on business matters.
“Good afternoon, Mikhail Petrovich. I need help with a divorce and division of property.”
“All right. Come tomorrow at ten.”
Daniil called every day. He wrote from unknown numbers. Sent messages through mutual acquaintances. He promised to change, swore he would never invite guests without her permission again.
But Alexandra did not reply.
She had already hired a lawyer.
Already gathered every document.
Already made her decision.
The division of property began.
The apartment had been purchased during the marriage and was registered in both their names. By law, it was to be divided equally.
Daniil tried to negotiate. He demanded a larger share. He claimed he had invested more in the renovation, in the furniture, in everything.
Alexandra calmly provided every receipt and every payment record.
Her lawyer laid everything out clearly — who paid what, who invested what, where the money had come from.
Daniil had no arguments left.
His lawyer tried to appeal to emotions, saying they were family, that the marriage could still be saved. But Alexandra remained firm.
The court case lasted two months.
In the end, the judge ruled that the apartment would be divided equally. Daniil could either buy out Alexandra’s share or sell the apartment and split the money.
Daniil chose the first option.
He took out a loan and paid Alexandra her half.
One million eight hundred thousand rubles.
Alexandra received the money and rented a small one-room apartment. It was bright, clean, and quiet. She brought her belongings and arranged the furniture.
On her first evening in the new apartment, Alexandra sat on the couch with a cup of tea. Outside the window, darkness slowly settled over the city.
It was quiet.
Very quiet.
She got up and went into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator.
Inside were yogurts, cheese, tomatoes, greens.
Not much.
Exactly enough for one person.
Alexandra took out a tomato, sliced it, sprinkled it with salt, and drizzled it with oil. She ate slowly, enjoying every bite. Then she finished her tea and washed one plate, one knife, and one cup.
She returned to the room, lay down on the couch, and turned on the television.
She watched a movie.
No one made noise.
No one demanded that she set the table.
No one criticized her.
There was only silence and peace.
Alexandra smiled.
For the first time in three years, she felt at home.
Truly at home.
Six months passed.
Alexandra found a new job at another company, with better conditions and a salary fifteen thousand rubles higher. She moved into a nicer apartment — a two-room place in the city center with good renovation.
Sometimes she invited her friends over.
She set the table — nothing excessive, nothing grand, but tasty and warm. The girls came with wine, and they talked until midnight. Then they left, and Alexandra washed the dishes with a smile.
Because they were her guests.
The people she had chosen to invite.
The people she genuinely wanted to see.
Daniil stayed in the old apartment alone. Antonina Semyonovna now came to her son herself and cooked lunches for him. Daniil tried inviting friends over again, but he quickly discovered that without a wife to prepare the table, guests somehow did not stay very long.
One evening, a year after the divorce, Alexandra was walking down the street when she saw Daniil.
Her ex-husband was standing at a bus stop, waiting for a bus. He looked tired.
Alexandra walked past without stopping.
Daniil did not notice her.
She continued on her way home. On the way, she bought flowers — peonies, her favorites. She went up to her apartment and placed them in a vase.
Then she cooked herself dinner. Something light and simple — vegetable salad and a piece of fish. She sat down at the table and ate in silence.
Afterward, she washed the dishes, made tea, and sat by the window. She looked out at the evening city — lights glowing in windows, cars moving along the roads, people hurrying somewhere, each with their own life.
Alexandra took a sip of tea.
Life was a strange thing, she thought.
Sometimes you have to lose something in order to find yourself.
She had lost a husband who did not value her.
She had lost an apartment where she had felt more like a servant than a wife.
She had lost the illusion of a family that had, in truth, been nothing but a burden.
And in return, she had found freedom.
Peace.
The right to cook only for herself.
The right to invite only those she wanted to see.
The right to live the way she liked.
Alexandra finished her tea and smiled.
Ahead of her was an entire life.
Her life.
Only hers.
And it was beautiful.