Oksana carried the floor lamp into the room Pavel liked to call his study, peeled the protective film from the lampshade, and switched it on. On the desk beside his keyboard sat a box containing a new coffee grinder.
She had spent nearly a week choosing his gift. In the end, she had decided against another gadget and bought the lamp instead. Pavel had complained several times that his eyes became tired when he worked in the evenings.
Dinner was already waiting in the kitchen. Oksana placed the baked fish on a serving plate, set out a salad and a small cake, then called Pavel to the table.
He sat down, looked over the food, and immediately asked how much everything had cost.
Oksana told him.
Pavel put down his fork and opened the banking app on his phone.
“Do you understand that we have a mortgage?”
“The payment has already been made. The bills are paid too.”
“You could have put more money toward the loan. Or bought something we actually needed.”
She reminded him that he had been complaining about the poor lighting.
Pavel replied that mentioning something he wanted and having her purchase it without discussing it first were two entirely different things.
Oksana calmly pointed out that she had used money from her own salary.
Pavel gave a humorless laugh.
“Starting on the first of next month, we’ll each live on our own income,” he announced. “We’ll split the mortgage, utilities, and groceries equally. Everything else is personal and nobody else’s business.”
Oksana glanced at his phone. A detailed spreadsheet of their expenses was already open on the screen.
Clearly, this decision had not occurred to him during dinner.
“All right,” she said. “Then we’ll each cook our own meals, take turns cleaning, and do our laundry separately.”
Pavel placed the phone beside his plate and frowned.
In his opinion, household chores had nothing to do with money.
Oksana reminded him that housework required her personal time.
He said she would grow tired of the whole ridiculous arrangement within a week.
Oksana did not argue.
She carried the floor lamp to the storage closet, divided the dinner into containers, and went to bed earlier than usual.
The following day, she reviewed their spending from the previous three months.
Almost a third of their shared budget had gone toward Pavel’s subscriptions, food deliveries, taxis, computer parts, and expensive coffee. Her own purchases took up only a few lines.
She had been postponing the purchase of new boots since autumn because every month something else had seemed more important.
Oksana opened a savings account and transferred her first deposit into it. Then she divided the refrigerator shelves and cleared out the bottom drawer of the dresser.
When Pavel saw the labeled containers, he asked whether she planned to draw a white line down the middle of the apartment.
“I don’t need one,” she answered. “I remember our agreement.”
The first Saturday was his turn to clean.
Pavel vacuumed only his study and the hallway, leaving the bathroom untouched. When Oksana asked why, he replied that he had not used her cosmetics, jars, or towels.
So she washed only her side of the sink and left the toothpaste stains on his.
By evening, Pavel had called a cleaning service. Oksana heard him explaining over the phone that his wife had turned their home into an accounting department.
At first, he remained confident.
He ordered prepared meals, hired someone to clean during his assigned weeks, and told his friends that domestic services were cheaper than putting up with family complaints.
Oksana could hear him talking from the bedroom while she packed a homemade lunch into her bag.
A month later, Pavel asked to borrow money until payday.
Cleaning services and food deliveries had cost far more than he expected.
Oksana reminded him that their money was separate.
He shut the refrigerator door harder than necessary and said he would remember her refusal.
That evening, she pulled out an old folder containing photographs of her design work.
Before getting married, Oksana had decorated small cafés and shop windows. After they bought the apartment, she had taken a permanent position at a furniture store because the salary was stable.
Pavel had often told her that decorating was suitable as a side job, not a serious profession.
Oksana selected photographs of three projects, wrote an advertisement, and posted it on a local website.
Her finger hovered over the publish button for a long time.
A fixed salary was dependable. Freelance work might never come at all.
Still, she posted the advertisement.
The next day, the owner of a small family café called her.
The woman wanted to renovate the dining area before the café’s anniversary, but her budget was limited.
Oksana visited after work, measured the walls, and suggested keeping the existing furniture, replacing the heavy chair covers, and adding wooden decorative panels.
The owner was uncertain.
Oksana promised not to charge for her work if the customers disliked the result.
Only after returning home did she realize how recklessly she had spoken. In the worst-case scenario, she could lose almost all the money she had managed to save.
Pavel noticed the calculations spread across the kitchen table.
“Decided to play interior designer?”
Oksana told him she had accepted a project.
He set his cup down directly on one of her sketches, leaving a wet ring on the paper, and asked how much she would earn.
When he heard the conditions, he laughed and returned to his computer.
For three weeks, Oksana worked every evening.
She found a workshop herself, negotiated the cost of materials, and convinced the café owner not to throw away the old tables.
Two days before the reopening, Pavel took their shared car even though he knew the panels needed for the installation were inside.
He did not answer Oksana’s message for two hours.
Eventually, she learned that he had driven to a friend’s house to collect a new computer stand.
Oksana was in danger of missing her deadline.
She ordered a cargo taxi, paid for it from her savings, and delivered the panels ten minutes before the café closed.
Pavel came home after midnight and reminded her that the car belonged to both of them.
Oksana agreed.
The following day, she arranged professional delivery for every remaining stage of the project.
She no longer needed his help.
On opening day, customers immediately chose the tables beside the new partitions. The café owner asked Oksana to redesign the second dining room as well.
This time, Oksana requested two days to prepare an estimate. She calculated a proper fee and sent over a contract.
The owner signed it without bargaining.
After the café project, two more clients contacted her.
One canceled the day before materials were supposed to be purchased, forcing Oksana to return the deposit.
At another property, she forgot several important fasteners and nearly ruined the installation schedule.
Sitting in her car, she dialed the number of the furniture store manager, ready to ask for her old job back.
Then she deleted the number, called the client instead, and postponed the work by one day.
She offered a discount for the delay and completed the project herself.
The client later left a detailed positive review, which brought in several new customers.
By spring, Oksana had saved enough money to cover four months of expenses, and she resigned from the furniture store.
She rented a small workshop near a bus stop.
The floor was uneven, the only window was narrow, and the rent was low.
Oksana signed a six-month lease, painted the walls, and began hosting classes on home decorating.
Pavel saw the rolls of paper and stacks of boxes, but continued to describe the workshop as an expensive hobby.
Oksana never discussed her income with him.
A large part of what she earned went straight back into the business, so there was no new furniture or obvious luxury at home to reveal how well she was doing.
In June, she received a contract to design three halls in a small hotel complex.
It was the first project large enough to cover several months of rent without difficulty.
The client required samples and a detailed cost estimate.
Oksana spent four evenings preparing everything.
On the morning of the fifth day, she could not find her flash drive.
Pavel was sitting in his study assembling a new shelf.
He said he had seen the drive beside the printer and tossed it into a box of unwanted cables.
That box was now in the trunk of his car, parked outside his office.
Oksana managed to restore the documents from her email, but she arrived late to the meeting and received a warning from the client.
When she returned home, she asked Pavel not to touch her work materials again.
“Then don’t leave them all over the apartment,” he replied. “You have a workshop.”
That same evening, Oksana moved every work-related item to the studio and bought a secondhand laptop.
The apartment was no longer her workplace.
Pavel could no longer come across her documents, even accidentally.
Several weeks later, he arrived at the workshop without calling first.
He waited until her class ended, looked around the room, and suggested they have coffee nearby.
For the first time, Pavel admitted that the separate-lives arrangement had gone too far.
He was tired of food deliveries, an empty refrigerator, and conversations held through closed doors.
He proposed keeping one shared account for housing and groceries while leaving the rest of their income private.
Oksana did not trust the idea immediately.
However, the next day Pavel cooked dinner himself. On Saturday, he helped her transport several boxes. A week later, he cleaned the entire apartment without being reminded.
He stopped mocking the workshop and even suggested finding someone to build a website for her business.
Oksana agreed to give the marriage another chance.
They opened a joint account used only for essential expenses.
They began eating dinner together again.
Pavel picked her up after classes several times and listened as she told him about her clients.
Little by little, their old argument stopped appearing in every conversation.
Before the next mortgage payment, Pavel suggested depositing enough money into the shared account to cover two months.
He said it would give them peace of mind if either of their incomes was delayed.
Oksana transferred her half.
Three days later, the banking app showed a payment for an expensive hotel room.
Pavel claimed he had accidentally used the wrong card and promised to return the money after payday.
He did repay it, so Oksana decided not to continue the argument.
Still, she activated transaction notifications for the joint account on her phone.
Another month passed.
Pavel suggested renovating his study and purchasing new computer equipment through an installment plan.
He intended to pay half and expected Oksana to cover the rest.
“You earn at least as much as I do now,” he said.
She asked how he knew that.
Pavel replied that he had seen her online banking page open on her laptop.
Oksana closed the lid and said nothing.
The following morning, she checked the login history.
A week before their conversation, Pavel had accessed her personal banking account twice from a device in their home.
He had not transferred any money, but he had reviewed her balance and the payments connected to the workshop.
That evening, Oksana placed a printed record of the logins beside his dinner plate.
At first Pavel denied everything.
Then he declared that a husband had the right to know how much money existed within his family.
Oksana asked why he had spent the past month pretending they were rebuilding trust.
Pavel looked away and said he had wanted their normal life back.
“Normal for whom?” she asked.
Instead of answering, he pulled the estimate for the new computer equipment closer and pointed out that he had also invested eleven years in their apartment and household.
The next day, Oksana requested complete mortgage statements.
She found the contract showing the sale of her grandmother’s apartment and the documents confirming that the proceeds had been used for the down payment on their home.
That money had belonged to her personally before the apartment was purchased.
She then met with a lawyer and learned that a verbal arrangement did not change the legal status of their property.
The apartment, the workshop, its equipment, and any outstanding debts would all have to be considered in a formal settlement.
Oksana calculated the value of the equipment, the remaining mortgage balance, and the market price of the apartment.
Then she prepared two proposals.
The first involved selling the apartment and dividing the remaining money while accounting for the down payment she had made from her personal funds.
Under the second option, she would buy Pavel’s share, assume responsibility for the mortgage, and pay him more than he would receive if they sold the property.
She did not yet have enough money for the buyout.
Oksana abandoned plans to rent a second studio, sold several pieces of equipment she rarely used, and applied to the bank to refinance the apartment in her own name.
For several days, the application remained inside her bag.
Part of her wanted to postpone everything until winter and avoid the painful conversation for a little longer.
Then, on Friday, Pavel announced that he was flying away with colleagues for ten days.
He packed in the small room he had moved into after their argument about the banking records.
He spoke quickly and barely looked at his wife.
That night, Oksana opened the family tablet to search for an old internet contract.
A booking page was still active in the browser.
Pavel had purchased two plane tickets and reserved one hotel room.
Oksana recognized the second passenger’s name.
Karina worked in a neighboring department at Pavel’s company and had called him several times in the evenings.
Oksana checked the travel dates, the passengers’ details, and the payment information.
Then she placed the tablet face down on the table.
Pavel’s open suitcase stood in the hallway. A new shirt, still carrying its price tag, lay beside it.
Oksana took her jacket from the hook, then put it back.
Driving to a friend’s house in the middle of the night made no sense.
The apartment was her home too.
A few minutes later, she opened the booking again.
She wanted to find another colleague’s name, a second room, or some reference to a business meeting.
There was nothing.
Oksana copied the details onto a sheet of paper, saved a duplicate, and returned the tablet to its original place.
Then she took the bank application from her bag.
In the morning, she delivered it to the branch.
While Pavel was away, Oksana received preliminary approval, prepared the settlement agreement, and ordered an independent appraisal of the apartment.
Then she examined the history of the joint account.
The hotel room paid for a month earlier was located in the same city where Pavel had now traveled with Karina.
The fact that he later returned the money did not change what it had been used for.
He had begun planning the trip before suggesting that they repair their marriage.
Oksana saved copies of the statements and deducted the cost of the hotel room from the amount she intended to offer Pavel for his share.
She did not message him.
She did not ask about Karina.
When Pavel returned, he found two financial proposals waiting on the kitchen table.
Oksana told him to choose between selling the apartment and allowing her to buy out his share.
He flipped through the documents, challenged the valuation of the workshop, and demanded half of her business income.
Oksana showed him the debts, the value of the equipment, and the documents proving where the original down payment had come from.
Pavel finally asked whether she was truly willing to destroy their marriage over a single trip.
Oksana opened the booking page on the tablet.
Pavel insisted that Karina had traveled for work.
Oksana asked him to show her the company order authorizing the trip and the reimbursement records.
He promised to find the documents later.
The conversation lasted nearly two hours.
Pavel suggested living together for another year, closing the workshop, combining all their accounts, and forgetting about the trip.
Each time, Oksana pushed the papers back toward him and asked him to choose one of the two options.
A week later, he agreed to the buyout.
If they sold the apartment, he would receive less after the mortgage and expenses were paid.
He could not keep the property himself either, because the bank refused to approve the necessary loan.
Pavel had to abandon his plans to order new computer equipment and rent a smaller apartment farther from work.
The coffee grinder was the first thing he packed.
He left the dishes until the final day.
During the signing, Pavel spent a long time reading the last page, even though he had already seen it before.
“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
Oksana slid the pen toward him.
One month later, Pavel moved out, taking his computer, coffee grinder, and office chair.
The floor lamp remained in the storage closet.
On her first free evening, Oksana brought it to the workshop.
She placed it beside the large worktable, switched it on, and spread the sketches for a new café beneath its warm light.