It was late. After putting the children to bed, Liza went to the kitchen. She boiled water in the kettle, poured herself some tea, and sat down at the table. Her husband Roma still hadn’t come home — in recent weeks, he had a lot of work and often had to stay late. His wife felt sorry for him; she tried to shield him from household chores, surrounding him with care and affection. Roma was the sole breadwinner in their family.
As soon as the couple got married, they agreed that the husband would provide for the family, while the wife would take care of the household and their future children. That’s how it turned out. They had three children, the husband worked and earned well, and the wife kept the home front. Roma was happy about each child’s arrival and dreamed of having more, but Liza was very tired — all the little ones demanded attention, and there was always a pile of diapers waiting for her in the bathroom; there wasn’t enough breast milk, so every night she had to prepare formula. She had long decided that three children were enough and it was time to stop.
Her husband came home late at night, a little drunk. When Liza asked about it, he said that they had all been very tired with the kids and stopped by a bar to relax.
“My poor dear,” his wife soothed the tired husband, “Let’s have dinner.”
“I’m already full; we had plenty of snacks. I’ll just go to sleep.”
International Women’s Day was approaching. Liza asked her mother to watch the children while she went shopping. She wanted to buy groceries and arrange a romantic evening. She would leave the children with her mother and cook something delicious. After buying groceries and gifts, the woman wanted to buy herself a new outfit since her clothes were quite worn out and she had nothing festive to wear.
She left her bags in the cloakroom and entered a popular store. She chose several dresses and went to the fitting room. She started taking off her nylon jacket when suddenly she heard her husband’s voice coming from the adjacent fitting room:
“I want to undress you right now.”
In response came a loud laugh and a gentle female voice — perhaps overly sweet:
“Not much longer to wait. Go buy something for your wife instead.”
“She doesn’t need anything. Her only interest is the kids. I’ll buy some kitchen appliances; she loves to spend all day in the kitchen.”
Liza stood there, unable to breathe, as if hit on the head with something heavy. Then she tried on the dress but thought she didn’t even want to buy it anymore. Meanwhile, the conversation continued.
“What if your wife asks what you spent so much money on?”
“I don’t report my expenses to her. I give her money for the household, and she doesn’t really know how much I have.”
Footsteps were heard. The fitting session ended, and the couple left. Liza cautiously peeked from behind the curtain and saw her husband paying for the goods. Next to him stood a slender, beautiful blonde, and Roma’s hand was resting on her waist.
“Are you okay?”
Liza shuddered. She had been sitting on the bench in the fitting room for a long time. Apparently, everything was written on her face because the saleswoman became concerned. Liza bought all the dresses she liked and went home. There she sent her mother away, put the children to bed during lunch, then lay down and started thinking.
Maybe she was to blame? She had completely neglected herself. But in any case, this was betrayal — an unexpected stab in the back. She would have never thought that her husband was cheating. And the tone he spoke about her in? As if she were nothing or, worse, a maid. He even wanted to buy her a gift suitable for work.
Liza was strongly tempted to get a divorce. But by doing that, she would only make things easier for them. He would leave for his mistress, and she would have no means to raise the children; alimony would probably be minimal. The woman decided to keep silent for now and observe.
That day Roma came home late again, saying he had a lot of work. Liza looked at him indifferently and said nothing. She felt like she was talking to a completely different person, not her beloved Roma. Her heart cooled instantly.
The next day Liza prepared a resume and sent it everywhere she could. Days of waiting followed. Every morning she started by checking her email. Many didn’t reply; others declined. After a few days, she was invited to an interview at a company — the same one where her husband worked. Liza hesitated for a while but then decided to go.
She made a good impression on management; they offered her a good position. The salary was small at first, but she could feed her children. Inspired by this offer, Liza flew home full of happiness. Seeing her, her mother bombarded her with questions.
“Roma has a mistress!” the young woman announced with joy.
Her mother thought her daughter was in shock, poured her tea, and sat her at the table to talk.
“Sweetheart, what are you saying? He stays late at work for you and the kids, and you accuse him of who knows what.”
“He’s with a young lady,” Liza giggled, then told her mother everything.
“Do you want a divorce?”
“Of course. But first I need to organize my day. I got a good job with a flexible schedule. The kids need to be enrolled in kindergarten; then I’ll work full time.”
“Well, daughter, it’s your decision. I won’t try to talk you out of it. Someone who betrays once will do it again. Do what you think is right. I’m disappointed, didn’t expect it, and he even discusses the mother of his children with a stranger. I’ll help you with the kids.”
“Mommy, what would I do without you!” Liza hugged her mother tightly.
Before the holiday, Roma again came home long after midnight. The wife didn’t ask him anything; her face showed complete indifference. He started explaining that he had worked a lot and then went to the bar with friends. Liza interrupted him and told him to go to sleep.
In the morning, while feeding the children, her husband tried to give her a kitchen food processor with the words:
“Look at the gift. I want to help you a little with the housework,” said the husband and tried to kiss her, but she turned away.
Liza didn’t unpack the gift and instead solemnly announced to Roma that she also had a gift for him and called him to the hallway. There on the floor stood two suitcases.
“These are your things. I’m divorcing you. Now you won’t have to make up stories about how you stayed late with friends and, poor thing, want to relax. So go, relax, don’t keep your blonde waiting.”
“Who told you?” The husband did not expect such a turn of events.
“I saw it with my own eyes when you were choosing her a gift. By the way, you can give her the food processor too. Maybe she’ll like fiddling in the kitchen?”
Cornered, Roma got angry:
“Look at yourself! She’s beautiful and does such things in bed! You don’t even dress properly, you’ve let yourself go, you’ve become a clumsy woman. And the funniest thing — you live on my money. Or do you count my money and don’t want me to spend it on someone else? You don’t have that right!”
“My money, my money! And what is your goal in life? To reproach me with a piece of bread? You didn’t give me money; you gave it for the household; you ate it yourself,” Liza was already tired of this pointless conversation and pushed the furious husband out the door with the suitcases, “Don’t you dare come back.”
Surprisingly, that night she slept well, and when she woke up in the morning, she felt reborn. That very day she filed for divorce and alimony. A few days later, the doorbell rang, and soon her mother-in-law barged in and immediately started yelling.
“What are you doing! You kicked my son out of the apartment and now want to squeeze money from him? He owes you nothing. Take back the alimony claim!”
“How interesting. And why do some men think they pay their ex-wives, not their children? Maybe he won’t have enough for his mistress? Anyway, that’s no longer my problem.”
“Look at you, getting all businesslike! You haven’t worked a day since you got married. You’ve leached off him and got comfortable. Don’t think you’ll get rich on alimony. He’ll tell his boss to pay him in cash, and you’ll get pennies.”
“Get out of here. Like mother, like son. I’m sorry I only realized this now,” Liza pushed the raging woman out the door. “One more word and I’ll call the police.”
Her mother-in-law left, and Liza breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, the children were given places in kindergarten, and they started attending. Liza began working full-time. Her husband already knew they worked at the same company. One day, they ran into each other face to face.
“Hello,” the ex greeted. “Let’s talk.”
“Don’t be offended, but I have to work,” the woman answered without looking at him.
“Then let’s have lunch together.”
“The word ‘together’ no longer applies to us,” Liza cut him off.
She looked at him. Roma looked somewhat worn out. His mistress had left him when she found out half of his money would go to support the children.
