Viktor was sitting at the kitchen table flipping through some documents. Tamara was washing the dishes and glancing sideways at her husband. Lately he’d been messing around with papers way too often.
“Vit’, what are you digging in there?” she asked without turning around.
“Business. Nothing for you to worry your head about.”
Tamara flinched. He hadn’t used to talk to her like that. For the last six months Viktor had become almost a stranger.
He hid his phone, came home late. And yesterday she’d seen him sitting in the car with some young woman, talking. They were sitting very close.
“Tom, we’re going to the notary tomorrow,” Viktor said, putting the papers into a folder.
“What for?”
“We need to re-register the apartment. Update the documents.”
“And why do we need that?”
Viktor raised his eyes. There was something cold in them.
“There are some complications with the paperwork. They need your signature.”
Tamara turned off the water. Her heart ached. What complications? They had bought the apartment twenty years ago; all the documents were in order.
“What complications?”
“Tom, don’t torture me. You’ll find out everything tomorrow.”
He got up and went to the bedroom. Tamara stayed standing at the sink. Her hands were trembling. She felt that something bad was happening, but she couldn’t understand what.
That night Viktor tossed and turned and muttered in his sleep. Tamara didn’t sleep at all. She kept thinking about the phone conversation she had accidentally overheard the day before yesterday.
“Yeah, Len, it’ll all be settled soon,” her husband had said, standing out on the balcony. “Just a couple more days and we’ll be free.”
Lena? What Lena? And what did “we’ll be free” mean?
In the morning Viktor was unusually cheerful. He shaved and put on a nice shirt.
“Ready?” he asked, grabbing the keys.
“Vit’, maybe you could first explain what exactly we’re going to do?”
“They’ll explain it there. Let’s go.”
In the car Tamara tried to start a conversation, but her husband stayed silent. He just hummed some tune. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so pleased with himself.
The notary’s office was in the city center. Viktor parked and pulled the folder with the documents from the back seat.
“Tom, listen carefully. They’ll tell you where to sign. You sign, and that’s it.”
“And what am I signing?”
“The documents for the apartment. Nothing serious.”
But his voice sounded unnatural. Tamara grew even more suspicious.
There were several people in the waiting room. Viktor went up to the receptionist.
“We’re here to see Smirnova. We’re booked for ten o’clock.”
“Go ahead, office number three.”
The notary turned out to be a woman of about forty. Strict, wearing glasses.
“Good morning. You’re here about the sale of the apartment?”
Tamara almost fell off her chair.
“What sale?”
Viktor quickly cut in:
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Wait,” Tamara turned to her husband. “What sale? You said we were updating the documents!”
“Tom, don’t make a scene.”
“I’m not making a scene! I want to understand what’s going on!”
The notary cleared her throat awkwardly.
“Maybe you should sort this out between yourselves first?”
“No,” Viktor said firmly. “It’s all decided. Show her where to sign.”
“I can’t process the deal without the wife’s consent.”
“She agrees.”
“I do not agree!” Tamara cried out. “Vit’, what are you doing?”
Her husband looked at her with irritation.
“Tom, enough hysterics. We’re getting a divorce. We’re selling the apartment and splitting the money fifty-fifty.”
The words struck like lightning. Getting a divorce? When had he decided that? And why was she finding out about it from a notary?
“You… what?”
“I filed for divorce a week ago.”
Tamara felt the ground slipping from under her feet. Suddenly it all made sense. Lena, his strange behavior, the papers.
“So you’ve already decided everything for me?”
“Tom, don’t dramatize. We’ve been living like roommates for a long time.”
“Then why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because you would’ve made a scene.”
The notary was watching them with pity.
“I’m sorry, but without the mutual consent of both spouses I can’t complete the transaction. Maybe you should think it over?”
“No,” Viktor snapped. “Tom, either you sign or we’ll sort it out through the court. And there you’ll get much less.”
Tamara walked out of the notary’s office as if stunned. Viktor drove off without even offering her a ride. She stood on the sidewalk, not understanding what to do next. Twenty-eight years…
She got home by bus. Her hands were shaking as she opened the door. The apartment felt foreign. Could it really be gone tomorrow?
Tamara sat down at the kitchen table and started to cry. Not just cry — she howled like a wounded animal. Everything had collapsed in one hour. Her husband, her home, her future.
“What am I going to do now?”
The phone rang. Her daughter’s name was on the screen.
“Hi, Mom! How are you?” Natasha’s voice sounded cheerful.
“Nata…” Tamara barely held back sobs.
“Mom, what happened?”
“Dad… Dad filed for divorce.”
“What?! When?”
“I found out today. He wants to sell the apartment.”
“Mom, wait. Don’t cry. Explain it properly.”
Tamara told her about the notary, the papers, Viktor’s threats. Natasha listened silently.
“Mom, did you sign anything?”
“No, I ran out.”
“Good. Listen, I’m going to see a lawyer after work tomorrow. We’ll figure this out.”
“Nata, what if he, through the court…”
“Mom, calm down. He can’t do anything without your consent.”
But Tamara couldn’t calm down. She tossed and turned all night. Viktor never came home.
The next day Natasha brought a lawyer with her. A young man in jeans, nothing like what Tamara had imagined.
“My name’s Dima,” he introduced himself. “Show me the documents.”
“What documents? I don’t have anything.”
“The ones for the apartment. The title deed.”
Tamara went to the wardrobe and took out the folder with the documents. Dima studied the papers for about fifteen minutes.
“I see. The apartment is registered only in your husband’s name.”
“How only in his?”
“Look. There’s only one signature — his.”
“But we bought it together! I gave money too!”
“So why did you register it only to him?”
Tamara remembered. Back then, twenty years ago, Viktor had said that it would be easier that way. Fewer papers, faster process.
“He told me it was all the same. We’re married anyway.”
Dima shook his head.
“Formally the apartment belongs to him. But! There are nuances.”
“What nuances?”
“The apartment was bought during the marriage. That means it’s joint marital property. When you divorce, you’re entitled to half.”
“And can he sell it?”
“Only with your written consent. Without it, nobody can carry out the transaction.”
Tamara felt a wave of relief.
“So he’s deceiving me?”
“He’s trying to scare you. Sure, through the court you can try to get permission to sell, but that’s long and complicated.”
“And if I refuse to sign?”
“Then he can’t do anything.”
Natasha took her mother’s hand.
“Mom, don’t sign anything. Let him negotiate with us first.”
That evening Viktor came home. He saw Natasha and the lawyer in the kitchen and frowned.
“What’s this gathering?”
“Dad, we’re sorting out the situation,” Natasha said.
“What situation? I’ve already made up my mind.”
Dima stood up.
“Viktor Petrovich, you can’t dispose of the apartment without your wife’s consent.”
“Young man, stay out of my business.”
“It is my business. I’m representing your wife’s interests.”
Viktor snorted.
“Tom, stop with the circus. Sign the papers and let’s be done with it.”
“I’m not signing anything.”
“Then we’ll settle it through court.”
“Fine. Just keep in mind — the process will take a year or more.”
Viktor glared at the lawyer with hatred.
“And who are you supposed to be anyway?”
“Dmitry Sergeyevich, attorney.”
“Tom, are you wasting money on lawyers now? We don’t have any as it is!”
“Dad, stop yelling,” Natasha cut in.
“And you shut up too! This is a family matter!”
“What family matter? You’re the one divorcing!”
For a second Viktor was thrown off, but he quickly pulled himself together.
“Tom, I’m telling you for the last time. Tomorrow we go to the notary. You sign, you get your share. You don’t sign, you’ll be left with nothing at all.”
“Not true,” Dima said calmly. “Whatever happens, your wife will get half.”
“What do you know, you little punk!”
“More than you think.”
Tamara looked at her husband in amazement. Had she really lived with this man for thirty years? When had he become so cruel?
The next morning Viktor woke Tamara at seven.
“Get up. The notary’s at ten.”
“I’m not going.”
“Tom, don’t be childish. Go wash up.”
“I said I’m not going.”
Viktor sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Listen carefully. Either you sign voluntarily or I file a lawsuit for forced disposal. Then you’ll get not half, but a third. Or nothing at all.”
Tamara looked at him. There was such confidence in his eyes that she wavered. What if he was right? What if the lawyer had missed something?
“And if I do sign, how much will I get?”
“Half of the sale. Two and a half million clear.”
She needed money. If the divorce was unavoidable, she should at least get something.
“All right. I’ll go.”
At the notary’s office they were greeted by the same strict woman.
“Have you decided to sell the apartment?”
“Yes,” Viktor replied. “My wife agrees.”
“Tamara Ivanovna, do you really agree to the sale?”
Tamara nodded. The notary took out the documents.
“Then you need to sign a consent to the transfer of the property.”
Tamara took the pen. She looked at the papers. The letters blurred before her eyes.
“Can I call my daughter first?”
“Tom, why?” Viktor asked nervously.
“I want to warn her.”
“You can warn her later.”
“No, now.”
She pulled out her phone and dialed Natasha’s number.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“Nata, I’m at the notary’s. I’m signing the consent to the sale.”
“Mom, wait! We agreed you wouldn’t!”
“Dad says I’ll get less if it goes through court.”
“Mom, don’t sign anything! I’ll be there in half an hour!”
“Nata, it’s already too late.”
“Mom, just wait half an hour! Please!”
Viktor snatched the phone from her.
“Nata, don’t interfere while grown-ups sort this out.”
“Dad, give the phone back!”
“That’s enough of this circus.”
He hung up. Tamara stared at her husband in confusion.
“Why did you hang up?”
“Because your daughter is messing with your head. Sign it, quickly.”
The notary cleared her throat again, uncomfortable.
“Maybe we really should wait for your relatives?”
“No need to wait,” Viktor said sharply. “We’ll handle it ourselves.”
Tamara picked up the pen again. But at that moment the door flew open and Natasha and the lawyer burst into the office.
“Mom, don’t sign!”
“Nata, I’ve already decided.”
“Mom, we have another option!”
Dima took some papers out of his briefcase.
“Tamara Ivanovna, what if instead of selling we draft a deed of gift to the children?”
“What kind of deed of gift?”
“To give the apartment to your daughter. Then your husband won’t get anything at all.”
Viktor jumped up.
“That’s illegal!”
“Why illegal?” the lawyer asked calmly. “Any owner can gift their share to whomever they want.”
“What share does she have? The apartment is registered to me!”
“But it was bought during the marriage. That means half belongs to your wife.”
Tamara listened in disbelief. So she wasn’t a helpless victim. She had rights.
“So I can give my half to Natasha?”
“Of course. And then the apartment will belong half to your husband, half to your daughter.”
“And to sell it?”
“Only with your daughter’s consent.”
Natasha grabbed her mother’s hand.
“Mom, let’s do the gift deed! I’ll never throw you out!”
Viktor went white.
“Tom, don’t be stupid. Natasha might change her mind, get married and give the apartment to her husband.”
“I won’t,” Natasha said firmly. “Mom, decide!”
Tamara looked at her husband. Yesterday morning she’d been afraid of him. Now she saw a confused old man trying to trick her.
“And how much does it cost to draw up a gift deed?”
“Five thousand,” Dima replied.
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Mom, I do!” Natasha pulled out her wallet.
The notary watched the scene with interest.
“So what are we drawing up? The sale or the gift deed?”
Tamara took the gift deed documents. She read them carefully. Everything was clear. She was gifting her share of the apartment to her daughter.
“The gift deed,” she said and signed.
Viktor sat there as white as a sheet.
He watched in silence as the notary stamped the gift deed. His face had gone gray.
“That’s it,” the notary said. “Now half the apartment belongs to your daughter.”
“Tom, what have you done?” her husband whispered.
“The same thing you tried to do. Only honestly.”
“Honestly? You robbed me!”
“I gave my share to our daughter.”
Natasha took the documents.
“Dad, now explain about Lena.”
Viktor flinched.
“What Lena?”
“The one you were planning to be ‘free’ with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do. Mom heard everything.”
Viktor stood up and walked silently to the door. At the door he turned around.
“Tom, you’ve ruined everything.”
“You’re the one who ruined everything. Thirty years ago.”
He slammed the door. Tamara stayed sitting in the chair. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel like crying. On the contrary — she felt a kind of relief.
“Mom, let’s go home,” Natasha said quietly.
They were silent in the car. Dima was at the wheel, humming something cheerful.
“Don’t worry, Tamara Ivanovna. You did the right thing.”
“And if he goes to court…”
“He can’t do anything now. The apartment can’t be sold without Natasha’s consent.”
“And the divorce?”
“He’ll get the divorce, sure. But he won’t be able to leave you without a place to live.”
At home Natasha made tea. They sat at the kitchen table, like in childhood.
“Mom, did you love him?”
Tamara thought about it.
“I don’t even know anymore. I guess I just got used to him.”
“Do you regret it?”
“What?”
“Signing the gift deed.”
“No. You’re my daughter. Who else would I give it to?”
“Mom, I’ll never throw you out. This is your home.”
“I know.”
That evening Viktor came over. He sat down across from his wife.
“Tom, maybe it’s not too late to undo this?”
“It is too late.”
“Lena is waiting. We wanted to get married.”
“Then get married. Who’s stopping you?”
“Without the money from the sale, nothing will work out for us.”
“And for me everything will work out just fine without a husband.”
Viktor looked at her in surprise. As if he was seeing her for the first time.
“You’ve changed.”
“Yes. I’ve become smarter.”
“Tom, let’s do this the easy way. We’ll sell the apartment and buy two smaller ones. One for you and one for me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I like it here. And Natasha does too.”
He went into the bedroom. An hour later he came out with a suitcase.
“Live however you want. I’ll file the divorce papers next week.”
“Go ahead.”
“And don’t call me anymore.”
“I won’t.”
He left. Tamara sat in the kitchen listening to the silence. For the first time in thirty years, the apartment was this quiet.
A week later a summons to court arrived. The divorce went through quickly, without drama. Viktor didn’t even try to claim a division of property — he understood it was useless.
After the hearing Tamara met Natasha outside.
“Well, Mom? Free woman now?”
“Free.”
“How does it feel?”
Tamara thought. Was she scared? Yes. Lonely? That too. But there was something else.
“You know, Nata, for the first time in my life I decided for myself what to do.”
“And?”
“It’s strange. But it feels good.”
They walked home along a familiar street. The sun was shining brightly, it was warm. At the entrance to the building Tamara stopped and looked up at the windows of her apartment.
“Nata, are you really never going to throw me out?”
“Mom, this is our home now. Yours and mine.”
“All right,” Tamara said, and for the first time in many months she smiled.
In the evening she sat by the window with a cup of tea. The phone was silent — Viktor wasn’t calling anymore. In the fridge there was only her food. On the coat rack hung only her clothes.
Tamara finished her tea and thought: actually, this really is good
