“Did you sign it?” Maxim’s voice shook with anger. “Did you really sign it?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Alina looked her husband straight in the eye. “Your mother was literally breathing down my neck!”
“Don’t you dare blame my mother! She wanted to protect our interests!”
“Whose interests? Yours? Hers? Certainly not mine!”
This conversation took place in the living room of their house on a late August evening, when the last rays of sun barely lit the room through the large windows. Maxim paced nervously between the armchair and the sofa, while Alina stood by the bookcase, holding in her hands those very documents that had changed their lives forever.
Three weeks earlier, the whole family had gathered at their house. The occasion seemed joyful—the discussion of their daughter Katya’s upcoming wedding to Artyom.
“Katya, dear,” began Valentina Petrovna, Maxim’s mother, carefully spreading several folders of documents on the table. “Your father and I have been thinking… Nowadays you can’t do without a prenuptial agreement.”
“Mom,” Maxim shifted uncomfortably on his chair, straightening his collar. “Maybe we shouldn’t start with that right away?”
“What else should we start with?” Irene (Irina), Maxim’s sister, cut in sharply, putting aside the magazine she had been leafing through. “Or do you want your daughter to repeat your mistakes?”
Alina jerked her head up from her cup of hot tea.
“What mistakes? What are you talking about?”
“That my dear brother was far too naïve twenty years ago,” Irina smirked, leaning back. “He got married without any agreements. And what was the result? He almost lost half the business during your first crisis.”
“Ira, enough!” Maxim slammed his fist on the table, making the cups tremble.
“Wait,” Lidiya Andreyevna, Alina’s mother, intervened gently but firmly, taking off her reading glasses. “I don’t understand something. What agreement for Katya? She loves Artyom!”
“Love is love, and property is separate,” Valentina Petrovna said coolly, pulling a thick stack of papers from one of the folders. “I’ve prepared everything already. All that’s left is to sign.”
The air in the room seemed to thicken. Katya sat beside her fiancé, gripping his hand tightly. Artyom said nothing, but tension showed in every line of his body—from his clenched jaw to his squared shoulders.
“Grandma,” Katya said quietly but distinctly, not letting go of Artyom’s hand. “Artyom and I don’t want any agreements.”
“Nonsense!” Valentina Petrovna waved her hand energetically, as if shooing away an annoying fly. “It’s all very simple. In case of divorce, everyone keeps what’s theirs. Artyom doesn’t get a penny of what Katya earns.”
“And if it’s Artyom who earns?” Marina—Alina’s sister, who had until then silently watched from the corner—asked sharply.
“Well, that’s unlikely,” Irina snorted with contempt, casting a glance at her niece’s fiancé. “He’s just a programmer. And Katya is the daughter of a successful businessman.”
“So you’re writing my nephew off as a failure in advance?” Marina rose from the table, her voice dangerously quiet.
“I’m just a realist,” Irina parried imperturbably, adjusting the gold chain on her neck. “Divorce statistics speak for themselves.”
Lidiya Andreyevna shook her gray head.
“Valentina Petrovna, do you understand what you’re saying? These children love each other!”
“Love fades,” the mother-in-law replied harshly. “Money remains.”
“Mom, Dad,” Katya looked from one parent to the other, a plea in her voice. “Say something! You can see this is wrong!”
Maxim cleared his throat without raising his eyes.
“Katya, maybe Grandma is right. Life happens…”
“Dad!” her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Are you serious?”
“He’s just thinking about your future, dear,” Valentina Petrovna put in, soft but insistent. “By the way, Alina, darling, since we’re talking about agreements… I’ve prepared something for you and Maxim as well.”
Alina froze, her cup halted midway to her lips.
“What? For us? We’ve been married twenty years!”
“Which is exactly why it’s time to put everything in proper order,” Valentina Petrovna handed her a new stack of documents tied with a pretty ribbon. “It clearly sets out the division of property. Everything Maxim earned before the marriage and will inherit from your father-in-law and me remains exclusively his.”
Alina took the papers with trembling hands. Marina was beside her at once, laying a supportive hand on her shoulder.
“Valentina Petrovna,” Lidiya Andreyevna’s voice shook with indignation. “How dare you? My daughter has spent twenty years building a family with your son!”
“So what?” Irina crossed her arms demonstratively. “That doesn’t give her any right to the Romanov family inheritance.”
“Family inheritance?” Marina laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “When Maxim married Alina, he lived in a rented studio! Everything they have, they built together!”
“Not true!” Valentina Petrovna squealed, jumping to her feet. “My son achieved everything on his own!”
“With the help of my daughter’s father’s connections!” Lidiya Andreyevna couldn’t hold back, taking off and putting on her glasses in agitation. “Or have you forgotten who helped Maxim land his first major contract?”
Maxim sat with his head down, as if trying to hide from the accusations and reproaches flying over him. Artyom, who had watched everything in silence, suddenly stood up.
“Katya, let’s get out of here,” he said firmly, holding out his hand to his fiancée.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Valentina Petrovna instantly blocked their path to the door. “We’re not finished!”
“We’re finished,” Artyom replied calmly but resolutely. “Katya, if your family thinks our love needs legal guarantees, then maybe…”
“Don’t you dare!” Katya grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Don’t you dare even think about breaking up!”
“You see!” Irina cried triumphantly, pointing a finger at the young man. “He’s already resorting to blackmail! Typical gigolo behavior!”
“Ira!” Alina leapt to her feet, sending the documents scattering to the floor. “How can you talk like that about my daughter’s fiancé?”
“What, does the truth sting?” Irina smirked, clearly enjoying the effect. “A guy from a simple family clutching at a well-off girl. Classic.”
The air in the room practically rang with tension. Katya wept, pressing her face to Artyom’s shoulder. Lidiya Andreyevna and Marina stood beside Alina, as if forming a protective barrier. And Valentina Petrovna and Irina, on the contrary, looked ready for fresh attacks.
“Enough!” Maxim finally raised his head and slapped his palm on the table. “Everyone calm down! Mom, Ira, you’re going too far!”
“I’m going too far?” Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands, her voice a full octave higher. “I’m trying to protect the family’s interests! And you, as always, are under your wife’s heel!”
“Don’t you dare talk about my husband like that!” Alina stood next to Maxim, instinctively defending him.
“Oh really, isn’t that how it is?” Irina smiled nastily, examining her nails. “You’ve been manipulating him for twenty years! First you got knocked up, then you rushed him into marriage!”
“What?!” Alina turned so pale that Marina immediately took her by the arm. “How dare you!”
“What did I say that’s untrue?” Irina shrugged with feigned indifference. “Katya was born seven months after the wedding. Do the math.”
Those words hung in the air like a guilty verdict. All eyes turned to Katya, who stared at her mother, eyes wide.
“Mom,” Katya’s voice trembled with shock. “Is it true?”
“Katya, sweetheart,” Alina reached a hand toward her daughter, but the girl instinctively stepped back. “It’s not the way your aunt is making it sound…”
“But is it true? Were you pregnant before the wedding?”
“Yes,” Alina whispered, dropping her gaze. “But your father and I loved each other…”
“Loved!” Valentina Petrovna snorted contemptuously. “Your mother simply chose the moment well! My naïve son fell for it like a schoolboy!”
“Mom, stop!” Maxim stepped between his mother and his wife. “I loved Alina! I love her now!”
“Then why do you let them talk to me like this?” Alina looked at her husband, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Maxim opened his mouth to answer, but instead of defending his wife, he said something completely unexpected:
“Because they’re right about the main thing,” he said quietly but distinctly. “We need an agreement. Katya and Artyom do, and you and I do.”
Marina broke the silence first.
“Maxim, are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely,” he pulled an expensive pen from his inner jacket pocket. “Mom, give me the documents. I’ll sign first.”
“Max…” Alina stepped back, unable to believe her ears. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done long ago,” he took the documents without raising his eyes to his wife. “Protecting the family assets.”
“From whom? From me?” Alina’s voice fell to a whisper. “From the mother of your children?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Maxim was already signing the first pages. “It’s just a formality.”
The man she had lived with for twenty years, who had sworn his love to her only the night before, was now coolly signing papers that effectively denied everything they had built together.
The air in the living room grew dense, like before a storm. Lidiya Andreyevna rose slowly from her chair, her face showing the resolve of someone pushed to the limit.
“A formality? Marina, Alina, Katya—we’re leaving. Right now!”
“And good riddance!” Irina shouted, lifting her chin triumphantly. “Offended by the truth!”
“The truth?” Marina turned slowly, her eyes flashing dangerously. “You want the truth? Fine! Your precious Maxim has been having an affair with his secretary for the past five years! Everyone knows it—except Alina!”
The words dropped into the room like shards of broken glass. Time stopped. Someone gasped softly. Everyone turned to Maxim, whose face went the color of ash in an instant.
“That’s… that’s slander!” he forced out.
“Slander?” Marina took out her phone, her movements precise and cold-blooded. “I have photos. Your vacation in Sochi—when Alina thought you were at a conference in Moscow.”
“Dad?” Katya looked at her father, eyes wide, the last spark of childish trust slowly dying there. “Is that true?”
Maxim opened and closed his mouth like a fish thrown onto shore. The silence stretched endlessly. It was Valentina Petrovna who answered for him, her voice suddenly sharp:
“Even if it is, that only proves the need for an agreement! Men are weak, they need protection from—”
The sentence broke off. Alina—always serene and restrained, always ready to keep quiet for the sake of peace—strode up to her mother-in-law and slapped her smartly across the cheek.
“OUT!” she screamed so loudly the crystal chandelier chimed faintly. “All of you OUT of my house!”
“Yours?” Irina screeched, her voice turning shrill. “This is my brother’s apartment!”
“Which was bought with my father’s money!” Alina was trembling all over, but stood straight as a drawn bow. “And it’s registered in my name! So OUT! All of you!”
“Alina, calm down…” Maxim tried to intervene, taking an uncertain step toward his wife.
“And you TOO!” she whirled on him, cold fire blazing in her eyes. “Signed the agreement? Wonderful! Tomorrow I’m filing for DIVORCE! And we’ll see what’s in the fine print of your precious papers!”
“Mom!” Katya rushed to her mother, throwing her arms around her shoulders.
“And you know what, Maxim?” Alina drew herself up to her full height; at that moment she seemed taller than anyone present. “Your dear mommy wasted her efforts. I never wanted your money. But now… Now I’ll take everything the law entitles me to. Every last kopeck!”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Valentina Petrovna shrieked, her voice breaking on a high note.
“We’ll see,” Alina picked up the documents from the table—the very ones Maxim had just signed without even reading. “Interesting… Irina, did you read what your brother is signing?”
“Of course! A standard prenuptial!”
“Standard?” Alina began to read aloud, her voice clear and precise. “‘In the event of proven infidelity by either party, the guilty party forfeits the right to the jointly acquired property.’ Is this your wording, Valentina Petrovna?”
The last trace of color drained from the mother-in-law’s face.
“It’s… a general clause…”
“A wonderful clause!” There was a note of ruthless delight in Alina’s voice. “Sis, you mentioned photographs?”
“Not just photographs,” Marina smiled like a predator that had driven its prey into a corner. “Messages, hotel bills, witness statements…”
“Mom, no!” Maxim lunged toward his mother, grabbing her hand. “What have you done?”
“I wanted to protect you from her!” Valentina Petrovna jabbed a trembling finger in Alina’s direction. “I thought she would be the one to cheat!”
“You all thought I was a gold-digger,” Alina said with an uncanny calm that was scarier than any scream. “Turns out I’m the only one who kept faith with this marriage. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“Alina, let’s talk…” Maxim reached out to her, but she recoiled as if from a flame.
“Don’t touch me!” She handed the marital agreement her husband had signed to her mother, who quickly tucked it into her bag and clutched it to her chest. “Katya, Artyom, Mom, Marina—let’s go. There’s nothing more for us here.”
“Alina, wait!” Maxim ran after her, but she didn’t even turn around. “We can fix this!”
“No, Maxim.” She stopped at the threshold but didn’t look back. “You made your choice. You signed papers you didn’t even read. You trusted your mother and sister more than your wife. You betrayed our daughter at the most important moment of her life.”
“But I love you!”
“Love me?” She turned then, and Maxim saw something new in her eyes—indifference. “A strange way of showing love. Still, thank you.”
“For what?” he muttered, bewildered.
“For showing your true face before Katya could make a mistake.” Alina turned to the young man standing beside her daughter. “Artyom, welcome to our new family. A real family, where love matters more than money.”
“Mom,” Katya hugged her tightly, pressing her cheek to her shoulder. “I love you so much!”
“And I love you, my girl. Let’s get out of here.”
The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving only Maxim with his mother and sister in the living room. The room seemed huge and empty.
“What have we done?” he whispered barely audibly.
“We protected your interests!” Valentina Petrovna repeated stubbornly, though her voice sounded unsure.
“No, Mom.” Maxim sank into an armchair, covering his face with his hands. “You destroyed my life.”
A week flew by like a single day. On Monday morning Alina filed for divorce, the very first in line at the courthouse window. Thanks to that very marital agreement Valentina Petrovna had pushed so zealously—and the indisputable evidence of Maxim’s infidelity that Marina provided—the procedure turned out to be surprisingly simple.
Maxim received the notice on Tuesday. On Thursday he tried to come to Alina, but the concierge politely informed him that his name had been removed from the residents’ list. On Friday he learned that all joint accounts were frozen. And by Monday of the following week he found himself in the same studio apartment where he had lived twenty years earlier, before he met Alina.
Twenty years of marriage evaporated like morning mist.
Katya and Artyom were married exactly a month after that ill-fated meeting. The celebration was intimate—just thirty guests in a small restaurant overlooking a park. No prenuptial agreements, no “protective measures”—only two loving hearts and the blessing of their loved ones.
Alina danced the first dance with her son-in-law, smiling as sincerely as she hadn’t in many years. Lidiya Andreyevna wept with happiness, watching her granddaughter. Marina toasted the new family—strong, built on trust and mutual respect.
And somewhere in a tiny apartment, Maxim sat by the window, looked out at the city lights, and thought about how easy it is to lose everything most precious when you trust other people’s words more than the voice of your own heart.
Valentina Petrovna and Irina didn’t receive invitations to the wedding either. Their places in the new family were taken by sincerity, trust, and that very love they had fought so fiercely against.
And that was justice in its purest form.