“Darling, I quit my job! Finally, I’ll be able to do something I actually enjoy,” Yura said with such relief, as if great achievements were waiting for him just ahead. But Zhanna knew her husband had no real plan at all.
“And what do you enjoy? What are you going to do? Are you thinking of starting your own business?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What? A business?” Yura laughed. “Businesses are nothing but losses these days, and I don’t have any experience anyway. I’ll just look for a job that brings me pleasure. Something creative, something free…”
Zhanna nodded but said nothing. He still had not answered the question of what exactly he enjoyed. The truth was, Yura had no idea what he wanted to do or where to go next. His wife understood that, but she did not pressure him. His old job had been irritating him for a long time.
Every day, when Yuri came home, he grumbled:
“This isn’t my level. There are no prospects there. I’m ashamed to work for such a salary!”
He really did not earn much, but Zhanna had been grateful even for that. She still remembered the times when Yura could spend months looking for work. Back then, they lived on her salary, counted every coin, and waited desperately for payday.
Now things were different. Yura had been working steadily for the past five years. He had even managed to save a small amount of money — not a fortune, of course, but enough for a rainy day.
Zhanna mentally calculated the money in their account and decided it would be enough for six months of modest living. Knowing this, she agreed to give her husband time. Maybe Yura really would find something worthwhile, something that would make him happy and bring stability to their family. Zhanna did not even want to think that her husband might once again fall into that pit of uncertainty from which they had struggled so hard to climb out.
Yuri was sure that this time he would definitely find something better. He wrote a résumé, sent it to dozens of companies, and enthusiastically went to interviews. He dreamed of joining a company where, at last, he would be appreciated properly.
But one month passed, then another, then half a year… and Yura still had not found his perfect job. Rejection followed rejection.
One evening, while he was sitting at the computer watching funny videos, exhausted Zhanna finally lost patience. She stopped in the doorway, leaned against the frame, frowned, and said:
“Maybe you should look for a job instead of wasting time like this? Is there really nothing suitable? Why are you still sitting at home?”
“I’ve been searching all day. Let me rest a little… It’s not my fault everyone is cutting staff right now. Don’t worry, something will definitely come up soon,” Yura replied without even looking at his wife.
Those words made Zhanna shudder. She had heard them before, more than five years ago. Back then, Yura had also been full of enthusiasm at first, going to interviews and calling acquaintances. But after the fifth rejection, he started turning on the computer less often, resting after every job search, and after a month he almost stopped doing anything at all. He spent whole days on the sofa watching movies and repeating, “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”
Not wanting that story to repeat itself, Zhanna walked up to her husband and turned his chair toward her.
“Yura, we’ve already been through this,” she said firmly. “Maybe you’ve forgotten what that life was like, but I haven’t. Tomorrow morning, you’re going to sit down and make a plan: where you sent your résumé, which vacancies you looked at, what needs to be improved. If you want, I’ll help — I’ll check the text and suggest where to search. We need to move forward, not wait for a miracle, Yura.”
The man blushed and lowered his eyes.
“Fine. I’ll definitely do it tomorrow.”
But the next day, everything repeated itself. Yura “looked” for work, and Zhanna “believed” in his search. They both played their roles, and their fragile family balance rested on that silent agreement.
With every passing week, Zhanna’s anxiety grew stronger. One evening, Yuri came up to her with an unusual suggestion.
“Darling, my birthday is coming soon. Maybe we could invite guests over? Set the table, relax a little, take our minds off the problems…”
Zhanna was stunned.
“Yura, what guests? What table? We barely have enough money as it is. Your savings are gone, and my salary only covers food and utilities.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Yura said, suddenly becoming animated. “Let’s make a modest table. How much do we really need? A couple of salads, some bread, tea… Besides, relatives will give me money as gifts. I promise I won’t take a single kopeck from it. I’ll give everything to you to cover the expenses, and there will even be some left over. Think about it: we’ll relax, and we’ll get at least a little extra money. I’m turning thirty-five, after all. I want to celebrate properly…”
At first Zhanna resisted, but then she gave in — not so much because of her husband’s arguments, but because of her own exhaustion. She also wanted to get distracted, forget about problems and endless lack of money, at least for one evening. She took a notebook and, sighing, wrote down a menu: Caesar salad with chicken instead of shrimp, slices of cheap sausage, stuffed cabbage rolls with minced meat and rice. The total came out modest, almost symbolic, but soon Yura glanced into the notebook and added a few more items to the list.
“I added a couple of things there. Buy caviar and some delicacies for my anniversary,” the unemployed husband demanded from his wife.
Zhanna bit her lip and calculated the numbers in her head. Caviar… fish… that was already outside the budget. But she kept silent, deciding that fine, they would have that appetizer too. After all, it was his birthday.
A couple of days later, Yura returned to the subject.
“Maybe we should make two hot dishes? Stuffed cabbage is good, but I’d also like roast duck with apples. And a couple of bottles of good wine wouldn’t hurt — it is an anniversary, after all. We can order a cake from the local bakery too. The chocolate one with cherries.”
He said it with a smile, as if he did not notice how his wife’s face was changing.
“Are you serious?!” she finally burst out. “Do you have any idea how much this will cost me?”
Zhanna could still somehow accept the red caviar, fish, and duck, but alcohol and an expensive cake seemed like outright luxury.
“But it’s my birthday, my anniversary. I just want everything to be… normal. For us to sit together and relax. They’ll give me money anyway. You can take it afterward, and it will cover everything,” her husband pleaded.
Zhanna hesitated and felt angry, but in the end she bought everything Yura wanted. It was his birthday. He had been unemployed for seven months. She wanted to support her husband, not crush him.
The celebration turned out unexpectedly cheerful. Yura’s closest relatives came. The table did not look especially luxurious, but it did not look poor either. Zhanna even regretted scolding her husband when he had added expensive products to the list. Without them, the table would have seemed too bare.
By the time the guests began giving Yura presents, Zhanna had relaxed a little. She had emptied a couple of glasses of wine and started thinking, “Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe this is just a difficult period, and it will pass soon.”
The thought had barely crossed her mind when the guests began congratulating Yura one by one and handing him boxes and gift bags. He looked inside each one, and every time his face lit up with a happy smile.
“Thank you, Aunt Lyuda, Uncle Zhenya! This is exactly what I dreamed of!” the man exclaimed joyfully.
Zhanna could not understand what was happening. Not one relative gave the birthday man a simple envelope. They all handed him boxes — big and small, wrapped in bright paper and tied with ribbons. Only later, when Yura began opening them, did the woman realize there would be no money.
“Oh, it’s a game console! Thank you!” the man went over to his parents, hugged them tightly, and then continued unwrapping his gifts with childlike excitement.
Twenty minutes later, Yura was sitting on the sofa surrounded by a controller, headphones, and even a gaming mouse. There was not a single envelope of cash near him.
Seeing this, Zhanna felt irritation boiling inside her. Why had they given Yura toys? Why had they not simply given an adult man money?
When the guests left, she finally let her emotions out.
“Yura, you promised the gifts would cover the expenses. Where is the money? Why did they give you gaming equipment? We can’t sell these things right now, and the bills won’t wait.”
The man merely shrugged.
“Well… that’s how it turned out. If you think about it, they did cover the costs. All of this is worth a lot of money.”
Yura said it so calmly that his wife immediately realized something was not right.
A few days later, when her emotions had cooled down, Zhanna decided to visit her sister-in-law. She wanted to casually find out whether the guests had known about her plans, whether they had discussed anything with the birthday boy in advance.
“Yurka is so happy. He plays on that console all day, just like a child. How did you guess he wanted it? He’s dreamed about that kind of equipment his whole life!” Zhanna said lightly.
Her sister-in-law shifted awkwardly in her chair, but seeing Zhanna’s sincere smile, she admitted:
“Listen, just don’t tell Yura I told you, okay? He asked us himself to give him all that. He called everyone and then sent links to the items. He said the money would just disappear anyway, but at least this way the equipment would remain.”
Zhanna barely restrained herself from taking her anger out on her husband’s sister. But when she returned home, she was no longer able to stay composed.
“So that’s what you’re really like! You decided you were the clever one? I was supposed to spend my salary on your party, thinking we would at least recover some of the money, while you planned to deceive me? Aren’t you ashamed, Yura? Do you understand that now we have nothing to pay the rent with?”
Realizing that his lie had been exposed, Yura looked away from his game and turned around in horror.
“Oh, come on, it’s just money. But now I have a console. Remember how I dreamed about it?”
“If it’s just money, why don’t you just find a job?”
“I will, I promise! I just need time!”
“You’ve been sitting at home for eight months! And that was without a console! Now that you’re playing, you won’t think about work at all!”
“I will, I will! You’ll see!”
Zhanna no longer believed her husband. She looked at him and saw not the man she had married, but an irresponsible, lazy, calculating person. Yura did not see his deception as anything serious. He simply thought about himself, as he always had.
Realizing that her husband would not change, Zhanna began packing her things. At that moment, Yura was still playing and did not even immediately understand what was happening.
“Where are you going?” he asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“I’m leaving,” she replied.
The man raised his eyes and sighed. He really did not want to be distracted from his games by another scandal.
“What, you’re leaving right now?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“Well, okay,” Yura nodded, as if it were something temporary.
The man only truly became worried when the food in the refrigerator began running out, and then the apartment bills started arriving. He was completely alone — without money, without a job, and without anyone to remind him of reality.
Two weeks later, he began calling Zhanna and begging her to come back. To pay the bills, Yura had to post an ad selling the console, but that would only be a temporary solution. He needed to bring his wife back.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Come back. This is our apartment, our family. Let’s not destroy it.”
“The apartment may be ours, but I don’t want to live in a family like this. I’ve filed for divorce, Yura. And for division of property. You’ll be invited to court soon. I hope you come, and we can part peacefully.”
Yura resisted for a long time. He did not want a divorce, promised to fix everything, and said he had understood his mistake. But Zhanna was firm. That anniversary had not merely opened her eyes — it had shown her the whole truth: how long she had ignored her husband’s irresponsibility, how much strength she had wasted hoping he would change. She did not feel sorry for the money. She felt sorry for herself and for the time she had given to a person who valued neither her nor their family.
But even from this situation, Zhanna learned a lesson: from now on, she would not listen to words, but look at actions. And she would choose people who were ready to act, not hide behind childish dreams and excuses.