«Let’s toast to new beginnings,» Natalia declared, her voice steady despite the tension. She stood resplendent in a deep burgundy gown, a sparkle in her eye mirroring the twinkling Christmas tree lights behind her. The champagne in her glass caught reflections of the golden bulbs as she addressed her assembled friends and family. «To the joy and prosperity of our loved ones!»
Just then, Sergey, her husband, stood, interrupting the moment with a sudden seriousness. «I’d like to add something,» he announced, surveying the room with a raised glass. «Here’s to transformation. As of the New Year, I’ll be embarking on a fresh chapter. Natalia, I want a divorce.»
The room stilled, glasses hovering mid-air like sculptures. The television, blaring festive tunes, now seemed jarringly loud. Muffled sounds of coughs and uneasy shuffling filled the space as some guests pretended to check their phones. In the next room, oblivious to the grown-ups’ turmoil, children’s laughter floated through.
Natalia, momentarily paralyzed by Sergey’s words, steadied her trembling hand. Composing herself with grace, she placed her glass gently on the table and faced her husband squarely.
«Now? Here, in front of everyone?» she questioned, her voice a mix of disbelief and calm.
«What better time than now?» Sergey snapped back, sinking into his chair. «I’m weary of the facade. It’s been crumbling for ages, Natalia. Why drag it out?»
«So, it’s a facade to you?» She leaned forward, her tone sharpening. «Or could it be that you’re the one who’s failed to stay true to the part? You were always quick to escape problems rather than face them.»
Sergey’s gaze hardened, aware of the direction Natalia was steering the conversation but trying not to show his agitation. «That’s not it. I’m just not happy anymore. You’re not the woman I married.»
«You think I’m the one who’s changed?» Natalia’s retort was tinged with bitter irony, causing an uncomfortable stir among the guests. «What about you, Sergey? Are you still the dreamer who vowed to give me the stars? Perhaps I’m just exhausted from being your convenient choice.»
Sergey couldn’t hold back and raised his voice. «Oh, please, don’t make yourself out to be the victim! You understand that this marriage was a mistake.»
«The mistake was putting up with your rudeness all these years,» Natalia coldly cut him off. She sharply stood up from the table, not looking at the guests. «Excuse me, friends. It seems the evening is officially over.»
She left the room, leaving Sergey under the stunned gazes of the guests. Behind the closed bedroom door, Natalia sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Awkward whispers and the quiet clinking of dishes came from the corridor. But she no longer heard what was happening in the living room. Her thoughts were too loud.
Natalia lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sergey’s words still rang in her ears: «You’re not the one I fell in love with.» Her lips twisted into a bitter smirk. «Who then? An everyday maid? Or a waitress to serve his dinners under Netflix?»
Voices came from the living room. Someone whispered quietly, someone began to head home. But Natalia knew that she would hardly sleep that night. She walked around the room, trying to calm her nerves. On the bedside table lay their wedding photo. She picked up the frame, looked at her shining eyes, Sergey’s hopeful gaze.
«Naive fool,» she whispered to herself. «Believed it would be like a fairy tale.»
Sergey was different then. Tall, with a slightly mischievous smile, with the crazy idea of going on a winter honeymoon to Lake Baikal. She remembered how they drank hot tea from a thermos in the cold, how he always looked for adventures, even where there could be none.
«Natasha, what about an ice hole? Eh? Let’s dive in! I’ll go first, you follow!» she remembered his voice, still heard his laughter. Then she laughed too. They were young, happy.
But everything changed. Everything became «like everyone else’s.» Work, a mortgage, sleepless nights with a newborn. She closed her eyes to his late returns from work. «He’s trying for the family,» she convinced herself. To his cold replies: «What’s up with you? I’m tired, just let me eat in peace.»
She tried to revive their relationship. Tried everything: bought new dresses, learned recipes of his favorite dishes, even tried to joke as he liked, but Sergey only frowned:
«Spent money again? What did you set up here, a restaurant? Isn’t regular food enough?»
«Give it a try, you used to love this…» she said with an awkward grin.
«I’ve had enough of these fancy dishes. Just a simple bowl of soup for me.»
With each passing year, he grew more distant. Natalia told herself it was just a phase. Yet, the phase stretched on endlessly. He immersed himself in his work, often coming home late, his words increasingly vague.
«Working till late, I know. It’s unavoidable.»
However, a week before New Year’s, Natalia glimpsed his phone on the kitchen table. A new message lit up the screen. She didn’t recognize the sender’s name, but the message was unforgettable:
«My love, you promised you’d tell her before the New Year. I can’t wait any longer.»
That night, Natalia lay awake. She didn’t explode in anger or confront him. She simply realized that something fundamental had been irreparably broken. No amount of fancy clothes, celebratory toasts, or dinners could fix it.
She returned to their bedroom, glanced at a photograph again. The young woman in the picture, with her bright, hopeful eyes, seemed like a stranger now. She gently set the photo back in its place.
«Enough,» she whispered to herself resolutely. «Enough of dragging this on. Enough of just being ‘convenient.'»
Sergey’s words didn’t sting anymore. They merely echoed what she had recognized long ago. But now, she was the one making the decisions about what came next.
Ending the Charade
Sergey woke on the sofa to glaring sunlight filtering through the blinds. The living room was in disarray: candy wrappers everywhere, a champagne glass tipped over, mandarins strewn about. His head throbbed as if he hadn’t discussed divorce the night before but had instead run a marathon.
He heard the sound of water running and dishes clinking in the kitchen. Stretching lazily, Sergey walked over. At the table, their son Sasha was busily eating a sandwich. Natalia was by the sink, washing up in silence.
«Good morning,» Sergey said tentatively as he sat down. He tried to sound gentler than usual. «How are you?»
Natalia didn’t turn around. She merely shrugged, as if dismissing an annoyance.
«Sasha, go to your room,» she instructed calmly, drying her hands. «I need to talk to your father.»
The boy looked at his parents briefly, then scurried away.
Sergey frowned. «What’s this, Natasha? Let’s have a proper conversation.»
She faced him, arms crossed, her poise unsettling. There was no shouting or tears—just a chilling resolve.
«You were right,» Natalia began. «Let’s divorce. You want change? Fine. I’m done holding on to something that’s long been lost.»
Sergey recoiled slightly, not expecting this calm assertion.
«Now, Natasha, let’s not make hasty decisions. We’re mature adults, why the drama?»
«Drama?» Natalia scoffed, taking a seat across from him. «You announced our marriage was a mistake yesterday. Our friends know, even Sasha knows. What’s more dramatic than that?»
Sergey squirmed in his seat. «Perhaps I acted impulsively. It’s the New Year’s spirit, emotions run high… You understand.»
«No, I don’t understand. But I’ve made my decisions clear.» She leaned in. «We are divorcing. The apartment stays with me. It’s technically my parents’ property. You can take the car, your belongings, and move in with… what was her name again? Svetochka, Valechka? Or perhaps there’s someone new?»
Her words cut deeper than Sergey anticipated. He opened his mouth to respond, but remained silent. She had figured it all out, or at least suspected enough. But her tone, devoid of any willingness to entertain excuses, left him speechless.
«Natasha, keep your cool. We have a child. Is this really for Sasha?»
She reclined in her chair, exhaling deeply. «Sergey, it’s up to you to explain to Sasha. But tell him the truth. Why his dad doesn’t need his mom anymore. Why you think starting afresh is simpler than mending what’s broken. I’m not concerned about myself. I’ll find a way.»
He paused, his fingers anxiously playing with the tablecloth’s edge, feeling a sudden rush of discomfort—as if he no longer had any sway over what was happening.
Natalia rose, opened a drawer, and retrieved a folder. «Here are the papers. For the house, the car. I’ve planned it all. I’m only asking for what’s fair. And here’s the divorce petition. Sign it, and we’ll begin the proceedings.»
«Is this for real? Just like that, immediately?» Sergey’s voice wavered.
«Did you expect me to plead with you to stay? Or to weep into the night? You had your chance to preserve our family. You squandered it. No more, Sergey. I’m done indulging your fleeting whims.»
She placed the folder on the table and exited the kitchen, not once glancing back.
Sergey sat motionless, silently gazing at the paperwork. For the first time in a long while, he realized Natalia was much stronger than he had ever imagined. Her tone, her movements, even her look, all signaled a definitive end to their shared past.
