A cold courtroom. The final strike of the gavel, and a thirty-year marriage was dissolved in fifteen minutes of bureaucratic procedure.
Natalia clutched the papers in her hand, avoiding the gaze of the man who had been the center of her life for decades.
“Well, that’s that, Natasha,” Oleg smiled. He really was smiling at that moment. “Now you’re free and I’m free. No hard feelings?”
Natalia raised her eyes. Oleg’s face shone with a kind of inexplicable elation, as if he hadn’t just destroyed a family but won the lottery.
“Yes, Oleg. No hard feelings,” she tried to keep her voice steady.
In the corridor near the entrance, she was waiting—Marina, fifteen years younger, bright lipstick and hair that looked like it had cost half of what they’d built together. Natalia unconsciously adjusted her simple hairstyle.
“How are you?” Oleg asked, shifting from foot to foot, clearly eager to end the conversation.
“I’m fine. Go on—she’s waiting.”
Oleg nodded, as if he’d received the permission he needed.
“Yeah, we’ve got a table booked. We’re celebrating, you know… Listen, if you need anything—call me, of course. You’re the mother of my children.”
Natalia bit her lip and turned away. A few seconds later he was already holding Marina by the waist, and she was hanging on him, giddy as a schoolgirl.
Back in the empty apartment, Natalia sank onto the couch. Her phone lit up with a message from her daughter: “Mom, how did it go? Are you okay?” Natalia stared at the screen, not knowing what to say.
“Thirty years. Thirty years down the drain,” she said into the silence, and for the first time that day allowed herself to cry.
The morning greeted her with a throbbing pain in her temples and a sense of emptiness.
Natalia got up, automatically set out two cups, then flinched and put one back.
“Get used to it, Natasha. You’re on your own now,” she told herself.
The phone lit up again: “Hey, gorgeous! Want to have dinner tonight? Long time no see!” A message from Vera, a friend Oleg had never liked. Her finger hovered over the keyboard. Oleg would have said, “That bimbo dragging you off somewhere again?”
“But Oleg isn’t here anymore,” Natalia said aloud and quickly typed: “Yes, let’s do seven.”
For the first time in many years she felt she could make decisions without thinking about someone else’s approval. A bitter but intoxicating feeling.
“It’s okay, Natasha, we’ll manage,” she told her reflection in the mirror. “We’ll see who beats whom.”
Half a year passed. Natalia stood before the mirror, trying on a new business suit. Tomorrow was an interview at a major company—a chance to get out of a string of temporary gigs.
“You can do this,” she told herself. “You’re smart, experienced and… not all that old.”
The phone rang. “Oleg” lit up on the screen. Her heart betrayed her with a flutter.
“Yes, I’m listening,” she said as dryly as she could.
“Natalsha! Hi! How are you?” Her ex-husband sounded unusually upbeat.
“Fine. Did something happen?”
“Nothing! Just calling to see how you are. We’re adults; we should be able to communicate civilly!”
Natalia smirked. Such “adult” behavior was new for Oleg.
“I’m busy, Oleg. I’m preparing for an interview.”
“An interview? You? At your age?” Surprise crept into his voice.
Natalia closed her eyes and counted to five. She always counted to five when she wanted to say something sharp.
“Yes, me. At my age. Imagine that.”
“But aren’t you fine for money? I pay child support.”
“Oleg, the kids are grown. You don’t pay me child support. And even if you did, I want to work. I want to grow.”
A pause hung on the line.
“Listen, Natasha… I was thinking… Maybe you could drop by? Marina’s gone to her parents for a week. We can sit, talk, like we used to.”
So that was it. Natalia smirked.
“No, Oleg. I won’t drop by. Have a good week.”
She hung up, feeling a strange lightness. For the first time in thirty years she had told him “no” without fear or guilt.
The next day Natalia got the job.
Client relations manager—not exactly her life’s dream, but the beginning of a new chapter.
“To a new life,” she toasted into the empty apartment.
The phone rang again. Oleg.
“I was at the interview and couldn’t pick up,” she said instead of hello.
“And? How did it go?” There was a hint of condescension in his voice.
“I got it.”
“Seriously?” He clearly hadn’t expected it. “And how much does it pay?”
“Enough,” Natalia cut him off. “What did you want?”
“Oh, well… You wouldn’t happen to have a couple thousand until payday? I miscalculated my expenses a bit.”
Natalia froze. Before, she would have transferred the money without a word and then scrimped on everything. But now…
“No, Oleg. I don’t have spare money.”
“Come on, Natasha, you just got a job! You can’t spare it?”
“I can’t,” she said firmly. “And don’t call me with requests like that again.”
She hung up and blocked his number. Then unblocked it—what if it was about the kids. But it felt right—she had finally begun to respect herself and her boundaries.
Months flew by.
Natalia immersed herself in work, signed up for professional development courses, and started going out to the theater with friends. Life gradually took on new colors.
One day in the supermarket she ran into Oleg by chance.
He looked worse for wear, gaunt.
“Hi,” he said, obviously embarrassed. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” she replied, surprised that her heart no longer clenched at the sight of him.
“How’s work?”
“Excellent. I got a promotion. I’m head of the department now.”
Oleg nodded, shifting from foot to foot.
“And how are you?” Natalia asked out of politeness.
“Eh… Marina left. Said I’m too old for her, can you imagine?”
Natalia looked more closely at her ex-husband. The frayed collar of his shirt, bags under his eyes, uneven stubble. He’d let himself go, flashed through her mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said, without much emotion.
“Oh, come on, Natasha,” Oleg tried to smile, but it came out crooked. “You’re happy about it, admit it. You always said she was with me for the money.”
“I’m happy that I’m doing well,” Natalia answered firmly. “Your relationships are no longer my concern.”
He drooped, then glanced at her basket of groceries.
“Listen… maybe we could sit somewhere? Remember the old days?”
Natalia shook her head.
“No, Oleg. I’m in a hurry. I have an English class.”
“English? At your age?” slipped out of him.
“Precisely at my age. It’s never too late to learn something new.”
She turned and headed to the checkout. She could feel his gaze on her back.
Another year and a half passed.
Natalia moved confidently up the career ladder. A renovation in the apartment, new furniture, a trip to Spain—she could now afford it all on her own. And then the grandkids—her daughter had twins, and Grandma weekends were now a cheerful whirl.
On one of those days, the phone rang. An unfamiliar number.
“Natalia Viktorovna?” a male voice asked. “This is Sergei, a friend of Oleg Nikolaevich. He asked me to call you.”
“What happened?” Natalia tensed.
“He’s in the hospital. He asked me to let you know.”
Natalia froze, not knowing what to feel. Her first impulse was to run, to help, to support—old habits. But something held her back.
“Is he in serious condition?” she asked.
“No, stable. But he really wants to see you.”
“Tell him I wish him a speedy recovery,” she said after a pause.
“But…” Sergei began.
“Sorry, I’ve got the grandkids right now. If it’s serious, let me know.”
She hung up, experiencing a strange sensation. Not gloating—no. More like release. Before, she would have dropped everything and rushed to him, canceled her plans, put his needs above her own. But that Natalia was gone.
Three days later, the doorbell rang. Oleg stood on the threshold, gaunt, with a bag of medications.
“Natalsha, may I come in?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated, then opened the door wider.
“Come in. Tea?”
Oleg sat in the kitchen, looking around.
“You’ve redone everything. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“You didn’t come to the hospital,” there was reproach in his voice.
“I didn’t,” Natalia agreed, setting the kettle on.
“Why not?”
She looked at him carefully.
“And why should I have come?”
“We… we lived so many years together…”
“We did. We did—and we divorced three years ago.”
Oleg lowered his head.
“I was lying under a drip. I thought I wouldn’t make it till morning. You start to understand a lot.”
“And what did you understand?” Natalia asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“I was an idiot. I traded our family—you—for what? For Marina. She dumped me as soon as trouble started at work.”
Natalia was silent, staring at the cups of tea.
“Natalsha, I wanted to ask…” he faltered. “Maybe we could start over? I’ve changed, really. I understand now how valuable family is.”
She slowly raised her eyes.
“Oleg, do you realize you’re asking not because you’ve understood the value of family, but because you’re alone—without a job, without support?”
“No, Natasha, really.”
“The truth is you’re coming to me not out of love but out of desperation.”
Oleg flushed.
“You’ve always been too blunt!”
“And you’ve always avoided responsibility,” she replied evenly.
They sat in silence. Natalia looked at the man with whom she had spent most of her life. Once, his smile had made her heart race. Now she only felt a desire to pity him.
“What happened to you, Natasha?” Oleg broke the silence. “You’ve become so… cold.”
Natalia turned her cup thoughtfully.
“I’m not cold. I just don’t burn up over other people’s problems anymore. Weren’t you the one who said I think too much about others and too little about myself?”
“But not about me!” he blurted.
Natalia laughed—honestly, without malice.
“That’s you all over, Oleg. For thirty years I lived for you—cooked, washed, ironed, raised the kids, worked. And you… even now you come and demand the old Natalia who’ll drop everything and rush to save you.”
“I’m not demanding…” he began, but fell silent under her gaze.
“You are. You didn’t even ask how I’m living. What’s new with me. Whether I’m happy.”
“And are you… happy?” he asked after a pause.
“Yes,” she said simply. “For the first time in many years I’m truly happy. I have interesting work, friends, hobbies. I travel. I help my daughter with the grandkids. I live for myself.”
Oleg lowered his eyes.
“And I’m left alone. No family, no support. I was laid off a month ago. Marina left even earlier, taking half the savings. Friends… what friends? They were there as long as I was treating everyone.”
“I’m sorry,” Natalia said—and she meant it.
“Help me,” he said suddenly. “I didn’t expect this turn. I thought at fifty-nine I’d be living life to the fullest, and I ended up on the sidelines. Help me get back on my feet.”
Natalia looked at him intently.
“What exactly do you want, Oleg?”
“Maybe I could stay here for a while, until I find a job?” he asked hopefully. “I’d help around the house…”
“No,” she said firmly.
“Natalsha…”
“This is my apartment. My life. I won’t let you wreck it.”
“But we were a family!” Oleg raised his voice. “Do thirty years really mean nothing?”
“They do,” she nodded. “They taught me to value myself. Not to scatter my time. Not to believe empty promises.”
Oleg clenched his fists.
“So you won’t help me? You’ll leave your ex-husband in trouble?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help,” Natalia replied calmly. “I said you won’t live here.”
She stood and took a business card from a drawer.
“My company needs a logistics specialist. No, you won’t be in charge. But it’s a stable job with a good salary. I can put in a word for you—if you really want to work and not look for easy outs.”
Oleg took the card, studying it with disbelief.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. And one more thing—I know a realtor. He’ll help you find an inexpensive rental. I’ll pay for the first month; after that, you’re on your own.”
“Why?” he asked quietly. “Why help after everything I did?”
Natalia smiled.
“Because I can. Because I’ve grown past my resentments. And because help isn’t the same as going back to the past.”
Oleg stared at the card for a long time, then looked up.
“You know, I never thought you were this strong. I always took you for just… convenient.”
“I know,” Natalia nodded. “That’s why we divorced.”
She walked him to the door.
“Call me about work matters. And about the realtor, too. But don’t show up without warning and don’t try to manipulate me. I’ve learned to spot it.”
“You’ve changed,” he said as he left.
“I’ve grown up, Oleg. And it’s time you did too.”
When the door closed behind him, Natalia felt neither triumph nor gloating. Only a quiet satisfaction from realizing that the wheel had come full circle. She had walked through pain, despair, and loneliness to find her true self.
The phone rang—her daughter inviting her to spend the weekend with the grandkids.
“Of course, sunshine,” Natalia answered. “I’ll bake your favorite pie.”
She walked to the window. Life went on—and now it was truly her life.
