Maksim slammed the refrigerator door and turned to his wife with a disgruntled look.
“Yelena, what are these sausages for three hundred rubles a kilo? Have you lost your mind?”
Yelena froze by the stove, continuing to stir the contents of the frying pan. Her fingers gripped the wooden spatula more tightly.
“Maksim, there weren’t any others. Only these and the cheap ones for a hundred fifty, but those were some weird color—gray-green, honestly.”
“Did it not occur to you to go to another store?” her husband’s voice grew sharper. “I don’t give you money so you can throw it to the wind! You’re supposed to use your head, not the part you sit on!”
Yelena glanced over at her husband’s plate, where there were veal cutlets costing eight hundred rubles a kilo, fresh vegetables, and a slice of expensive Swiss cheese for one thousand two hundred.
“I understand, dear. And your veal, I suppose, flew into the fridge by itself? On the wings of angelic thrift?”
“Don’t get smart!” Maksim slammed his fist on the table, making the saltshaker jump. “My job is demanding, I need my brain in good shape, I have to eat well! And what’s it to you to eat a cheaper sausage? You sit at home, clean your nails, stare at the ceiling!”
Yelena turned back to the stove, feeling something dark and hot boiling up inside. A year ago she had quit her job at his insistence—“a wife should look after the home and her husband, not prowl around offices like a stray cat.” Now every kopek passed through his control, like through an airport metal detector.
“Maksim, maybe we should reconsider our budget?” she ventured carefully, not turning around. “I could find a job…”
“So the house will look like a pigsty afterward?” he snorted. “No thanks, your job is to economize. Tomorrow go to Auchan, they have sales. And in general, learn to save for once! Other wives feed a family on ten thousand!”
“Other wives aren’t married to other husbands,” Yelena muttered quietly.
“What are you mumbling there?” Maksim pricked up his ears.
“Nothing. Reflecting on the whims of fate and how hard it is to be the wife of a genius of thrift.”
Maksim gave her a suspicious look, but decided not to dig deeper. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“I’m going to Sergey’s to discuss work issues. Don’t wait up. And make a proper dinner tomorrow, not this nonsense!”
“Of course. Out of air and moonlight. Or have we got a magic bank account now?” Yelena said into the empty room.
The door slammed. Yelena turned off the gas and sank onto a chair. In the pan the over-fried sausages—the very “insanely expensive” ones—were cooling. She picked one up with a fork and looked at it thoughtfully.
“Three hundred rubles a kilo…” she murmured. “And his veal—eight hundred. Interesting arithmetic in our family budget.”
It was raining outside, and Yelena suddenly thought it was very much like her life—gray, monotonous, and endless.
“Tell me honestly,” Marina leaned across the café table, studying her sister’s face closely, “how much does he give you per month?”
Yelena hesitated, twirled the spoon in her cup. Little bubbles on the surface of the coffee burst like her illusions about married life.
“Twenty thousand. Well, sometimes a little more—if he’s in a good mood or we’re expecting guests.”
“For the whole household?” Her sister’s eyes widened as if she’d seen an alien in slippers. “Lena, that’s peanuts! I spend that on myself alone! And how much does he earn?”
“He says eighty. But after utilities, gas, his personal expenses…” Yelena shrugged.
“His personal expenses?” Marina snorted, nearly choking on her coffee. “And where are yours? In a parallel universe?”
Yelena shrugged. She didn’t have personal expenses. She bought new clothes once a year, and even then at a thrift shop; cosmetics—the cheapest drugstore stuff; the hairdresser—once every six months, and even then with a student for half price.
“Lena, my dear,” Marina leaned closer, lowering her voice, “have you considered he might have… other expenses? Of a more intimate nature?”
“What kind?” Yelena truly didn’t understand.
Marina was silent for a moment, then said carefully:
“Well, sometimes men… have someone on the side. And that gets expensive. Gifts, restaurants, hotels… a whole enterprise for siphoning money.”
“Maksim?” Yelena shook her head as if shooing away a nagging fly. “No, he’s a homebody. Work-home, work-home. Where would he find time to meet anyone? His imagination only stretches far enough to criticize my cooking.”
“Then where is the money going?” Marina frowned. “Eighty thousand is a good salary. Even if you subtract utilities and gas, there’s plenty left. The math doesn’t add up.”
Yelena was silent, stirring her coffee slowly. Marina was right, but the thought that her husband might be deceiving her seemed incredible. Maksim was as predictable as a Swiss watch—off to work in the morning, home in the evening with a sour face and complaints about dinner, weekends at his friend Sergey’s or his sister Svetlana’s.
“Maybe he’s saving for something grand?” Marina suggested. “A new car, a dacha with a pool? A flight to space?”
“I don’t know,” Yelena answered softly. “He doesn’t say anything. We hardly talk at all this past year. Just ‘pass the salt’ and ‘why pasta again.’”
Marina covered her hand with her own—warm, soft, so familiar.
“Lena, sunshine, you have to find out the truth. You can’t live in the dark like a mole in its burrow. You have the right to know what your family’s money is being spent on.”
“And if I find out something… bad?” Yelena raised eyes full of anxiety.
“Then you’ll make a decision. But living in ignorance isn’t life, it’s mere existence.”
At home Yelena wandered from room to room; the conversation with her sister wouldn’t leave her head, playing like a worn-out record. Where was the money really going? Maksim never showed her pay slips or bank statements; he only gave general figures, and even those reluctantly, as if divulging a state secret.
She was cleaning her husband’s study, carefully skirting his sanctum sanctorum—the writing desk. Maksim forbade her to touch anything there; she was only allowed to dust.
Vacuuming under the desk, she bent to pick up a dropped pencil and saw a white sheet shoved far under the desk leg. She pulled it out—it was a bank statement for the previous month.
Yelena sat down right there on the floor and began to study the document with trembling hands. Salary credited—seventy-eight thousand. So he hadn’t lied. Utilities—eight thousand. Gas—five thousand. Groceries—three thousand. And then…
Regular transfers of twenty thousand rubles. Twice a month. Recipient—someone A.S. A total of forty thousand gone in a month.
Her hands shook so badly the page rustled like autumn leaves. So Marina had been right? Maksim really did have secret expenses. But who was this mysterious A.S.?
Yelena reread the statement, trying to make sense of it. A mistress? But then why official bank transfers and not cash? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to hide such spending?
“Or maybe it’s blackmail?” she whispered into the empty room. “Or gambling? Debts?”
She hid the document in her purse. Maksim mustn’t find out about the discovery, at least not yet. She needed to think it all through.
She finished the rest of the cleaning on autopilot; her thoughts were elsewhere entirely. Had she really been living a lie for a year? Pinching pennies on everything, counting every kopek, while her husband was transferring to someone twice as much as he gave his own wife?
“Forty thousand a month,” she whispered, folding bed linens. “Forty! You could live like a human being on that, not like a church mouse.”
“Forty thousand a month?!” Marina whistled, setting her cup aside. “Lena, that’s more than he gives you! Twice as much!”
“So it turns out I’m living on the leftovers,” Yelena said with a bitter smirk. “And the main share goes to this mysterious A.S.”
“We need to find out who that is.” Marina frowned, battle sparks lighting in her eyes. “Do you have access to his phone?”
“He put a password on it three months ago. Said it’s work information, confidential.”
“I see,” Marina nodded. “Classic sign. Then watch him more closely. Maybe he’ll slip up or you’ll find some clues.”
Yelena nodded, but inside everything clenched into a painful lump. Had her husband really been deceiving her all this time? Making her scrimp on food, give up the bare essentials, wear rags, while he transferred money to God knows whom?
“Maybe it’s not a woman,” Marina tried to soothe her, seeing her state. “Maybe some debts, or investments, or something else innocent.”
“What kind of debts for twenty thousand every two weeks?” Yelena shook her head. “And if it’s innocent, why hide it?”
Her sister shrugged. There really wasn’t a logical explanation.
“You know what infuriates me most?” Yelena went on. “Not even that he spends money. It’s that he makes me feel guilty for every kopek. Lectures me over sausages for three hundred, and he himself…”
“Lena, darling,” Marina took her hand, “the main thing now is to learn the truth. Then decide what to do.”
“What if I don’t want to know the truth?”
“You will. Because you’re not the kind to live with your eyes shut.”
Yelena was coming back from the store with heavy bags. Once again she’d had to buy the cheapest things—pasta, grains, sausages. There wasn’t enough money for decent meat, just like in recent months.
Approaching the building, she saw a familiar red car in the yard. Svetlana, her husband’s sister. Yelena winced—the woman irritated her with her constant complaints and demands.
Climbing to the second floor and opening the door, Yelena heard voices. Maksim was talking to his sister, and the tone of the conversation was far from friendly.
“…I can’t anymore, Sveta! My wife is already living on nothing but pasta, and you’re demanding even more!”
“And what, should I live on the street?” Svetlana’s voice was shrill and angry. “You promised to help until the house is finished! Or does your word mean nothing?”
Yelena froze by the door, keys in hand. What were they talking about?
“I understand your problems, but forty thousand a month is too much! I have a family to feed!”
“What family?” Svetlana snorted contemptuously. “That wife of yours just wastes money on her whims! I’m on my own with a loan like an idiot! You yourself said—the house has to be finished and sold, otherwise I’ll never repay my debts!”
“I said that, but I didn’t think it would drag on for a year…”
“No excuses!” Svetlana’s voice grew even sharper. “You promised our parents you’d be responsible for me! They left you the bigger share of the inheritance, and what did I get? Crumbs!”
“Sveta, I’m not refusing to help. Just let’s make it fifteen, okay? At least save a little.”
“Fifteen?” the woman squealed. “Have you lost your mind completely? My payment is thirty a month! Where am I supposed to get the other fifteen? Scrape it off the ceiling?”
Yelena slowly set the bags on the floor. A.S.—Aleksandra Svetlana. Her husband’s sister. So there was no mistress after all. But that realization didn’t make things easier—in fact, it made them even more bitter.
“Maksim, if you start cutting back on me now, I won’t pay the bank! Then they’ll take the house with the lot! Is that what you want? For everything to be lost?”
“No, of course not…”
“Then stop whining like an old granny! Your wife will survive these hard times somehow. Let her get a job if there’s not enough money! She’s not disabled, after all!”
“I forbade her to work, you know that…”
“Then shut up and pay without moaning! I’m not asking for this money forever. I’ll sell the house and return every kopek with interest.”
“And if you don’t sell it?” Maksim asked timidly.
“I’ll sell it for sure!” she barked. “Just don’t get in my way building a proper house, not some shack!”
Yelena quietly set the keys on the console. Maksim and Svetlana were standing in the living room with their backs to her, still arguing.
“Sveta, understand, she’s already asking where the money’s going. She’ll figure it out soon…”
“Then tell her the truth, if you’re so honest!” Svetlana turned and saw Yelena. “Oh, there she is herself. Just in time.”
Maksim spun around. His face flushed instantly.
“Lena… when did you get here? We didn’t hear…”
“Long enough,” Yelena replied coolly, taking off her coat. “To hear everything in detail. Very informative.”
“Lena, dear, I can explain everything…”
“Of course you can. I’m very interested to hear your explanations. Especially about how I spend money on whims.”
Yelena walked into the living room, and Maksim glanced nervously between his wife and his sister.
“You see, Sveta really is in a tough situation. An unfinished house, a huge loan. Our parents asked me to look after her…”
“Look after?” Yelena smiled bitterly. “You call this looking after? Forty thousand a month is a full room-and-board arrangement.”
“How do you know the exact amount?” Maksim asked suspiciously.
Yelena pulled the bank statement from her purse and waved it under her husband’s nose.
“From here, darling. Bank statements are amazing things—they show everything without omissions. Now tell me honestly: how many months have you been ‘looking after’ your sister like this?”
Maksim lowered his head like a guilty schoolboy.
“Almost a year…”
“Almost a year,” Yelena repeated slowly, as if tasting the words. “So for almost a year you’ve been making me eat cheap sausages, buy clothes at thrift stores, scrimp on every kopek. While you transferred to this…” She turned to Svetlana with a look of contempt, “…this lady half your salary.”
“Hey, hey, watch your mouth, sweetie!” Svetlana squeaked belligerently. “I’m not a ‘lady,’ I’m his blood sister! And I have the legal right to a brother’s help!”
“Legal rights?” Yelena laughed mockingly. “Interesting legal position. To someone else’s money, turns out?”
“To my brother’s money!” Svetlana screeched. “And what do you have to do with it at all? You don’t work—you’re leeching off him like a parasite!”
“At his own insistence, mind you!” Yelena shouted. “And I’m living on pasta and sausages while you build yourself a palace!”
“Girls, let’s calm down…” Maksim tried to intervene in a pitiful voice.
“Quiet!” both women barked at him in unison.
Svetlana stepped toward Yelena aggressively.
“Listen carefully, darling. Maksim is my only relative after our parents died. And if they asked him to take care of me, then that’s how it should be till the end!”
“At the expense of someone else’s family?” Yelena didn’t back down an inch. “At the expense of me walking around in run-down shoes and patched clothes?”
“No one forced you to marry him!” Svetlana shot back venomously with a smirk. “If you don’t like this life—get a divorce and stop suffering! The road to freedom is open!”
Silence fell over the room. Maksim looked at the women with growing horror.
“You know what, Svetlana?” Yelena said quietly, with dangerous calm. “Great idea. Just wonderful. Get out of my house. Right now.”
“What?” Svetlana was taken aback.
“Get out! Immediately. And don’t you ever set foot in here again.”
“Lena, don’t be so harsh…” Maksim began pleadingly.
“And you get out too,” Yelena turned to him, steel in her voice. “Out of my apartment. Go live with your beloved sister, since she’s dearer to you than your own wife.”
“Have you gone completely crazy?” Svetlana shrieked in a voice not her own. “What right do you have to throw us out? This isn’t your apartment!”
“Every right, sweetie.” Yelena smiled a cold smile. “The apartment is in my mother’s name. Which means it’s mine too. Maksim has the right to a sleeping spot here. Nothing more.”
Maksim grew even paler. He knew perfectly well the place had been given to them by his mother-in-law, but he had never considered the legal nuances.
“Lena, darling, I’m explaining everything…”
“No, now you listen to me, dear husband,” Yelena went into the living room and grabbed Maksim’s jacket off the chair. “A year. An entire year you starved me for her whims.”
“What are you saying!” Maksim tried to snatch the jacket back. “What starvation? You didn’t die of hunger!”
“What else do you call living on twenty thousand a month when half your salary is faithfully going to your precious sister for her construction fun?”
Yelena strode to the closet and began throwing the man’s things into the middle of the room.
“Lena, stop it right now!” Maksim lunged at her in a panic. “We’ll discuss this calmly, we’ll find a compromise!”
“There’s nothing left to discuss. Get out and don’t come back.”
“Lena, you don’t understand the whole situation!” Maksim grabbed her hands. “Sveta will sell the house and return every kopek! I’m not spending this money forever!”
“Keep lying,” Yelena said coldly, yanking herself free. “If you lied to me for a whole year, you’re lying now without a shred of conscience.”
“I’m not lying! She promised honestly to return everything!”
“Your sister?” Yelena laughed bitterly. “The same one who just suggested I get divorced and clear out? Maksim, you’ve completely lost your mind.”
She continued methodically tossing his things into a bag. Maksim paced nearby.
“Lena, I beg you! She’s my only family!”
“And what am I then?” Yelena turned to him slowly. “A temporary lodger? A random fellow traveler?”
“You’re my beloved wife…”
“Was your wife. Now get out of my house and take your ‘family’ with you.”
“Your house?” Maksim tried a mocking smirk. “We’ve been living here together for three years!”
“You only sleep and eat here. The apartment is my mother’s. And therefore mine as well. Legally everything’s clear.”
Maksim turned pale to the point of blue. He understood perfectly that legally Yelena was absolutely right.
“Lena, I’ll mend my ways, I give you my word…”
“Too late for pretty promises.”
With an effort, Yelena dragged the heavy bag to the hallway and flung the front door wide open.
“Out. Both of you. And quickly.”
“How dare you…” Svetlana squealed. “How dare you!”
“I do dare. And quite easily, as it turns out,” Yelena replied evenly. “Now get out before I call the police for trespassing.”
Maksim slept at his friend Sergey’s for three nights, calling Yelena every day. She wouldn’t answer. On the fourth day he decided to come home.
The neighbor, Aunt Galya, opened the door.
“Maksim, what are you doing here? Yelena’s at the registry office, she’s filed for divorce.”
“What?” Maksim leaned against the wall. “When?”
“She went yesterday morning. Says she’s tired of living with a cheat. Guess she got fed up with your tricks.”
“Come on, Aunt Galya, it’s not that simple…”
“Simplicity is exactly what did you in,” the woman shook her head. “She’s a smart girl, your Lena. Sooner or later she had to open her eyes.”
Maksim turned and trudged to the elevator. So it was serious. Yelena had made up her mind.
His phone rang—Svetlana.
“Maksim, where’s my money? The payment’s due tomorrow!” his sister’s voice was already demanding from the first seconds.
“Sveta, I’ve got problems…”
“I don’t care about your problems!” she screeched. “I have to pay the bank! Did you forget your obligations?”
“I can’t right now… Try to understand, the situation is complicated…”
“What do you mean you can’t? Have you completely lost it? I’m not a charity!”
“Yelena filed for divorce, I’m without an apartment…”
“So what?” Svetlana shouted into the phone. “Rent another place and pay me! I went into debt because of you! Or do you think the bank will wipe my tears?”
“Because of me?” Maksim snapped. “You were building the house! That was your decision!”
“On your advice!” she howled. “You told me yourself—build, and you’ll help! What, lost your memory now?”
“I didn’t think you’d spend most of the inheritance on nonsense! You should’ve done the math! I thought you…”
“You should’ve thought earlier!” Svetlana cut him off. “Now just give me the money! And spare me the speeches!”
Maksim hung up and realized—there was no going back.
Six months passed. Maksim rented a shabby apartment, giving half his salary for housing. There wasn’t enough left for Svetlana. She called every day, demanding, threatening, making scenes.
“Sveta, I can’t give you forty thousand anymore!” Maksim said wearily in yet another conversation.
“And how much can you, dear brother?” she drawled venomously. “Ten? Fifteen? Maybe toss me five for tea?”
“Ten at most.”
“Ten?” Svetlana burst into an ugly laugh. “Are you kidding me? My payment is thirty! Have you gone totally mad?”
“Then sell the house! I see no other options.”
“Unfinished?” she howled. “They’ll give me peanuts! Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“But that’s better, otherwise the bank will take it! Sveta, be reasonable…”
“Don’t lecture me!” she shouted. “I’m stuck in this mess because of your advice!”
“No one forced you to throw money around,” Maksim said calmly.
“Shut up!” she barked. “I don’t need your clever talk right now! I need money!”
Svetlana swore into the phone for another minute and then hung up. A month later the bank sued—she hadn’t paid for three months in a row.
Svetlana sold the house for half price. She paid off the loan, and when Maksim timidly reminded her about paying him back, she laughed in his face.
“Pay you back what?” she sniffed. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Sveta, I gave you almost five hundred thousand!” Maksim tried to reason.
“So what?” she looked at him like he was an idiot. “Because of you I sold the house for half! Consider us even!”
“How is it because of me?” he couldn’t believe it.
“How else!” she shouted, working herself up. “If you hadn’t divorced your wife, if you’d lived with her and not rented an apartment, I could’ve paid the loan just fine! Instead I had to sell in a hurry! The whole chain collapsed thanks to you!”
“Sveta, are you serious?” Maksim asked quietly.
“Absolutely serious!” she barked. “And don’t come to me again! I’ve got enough problems of my own! Stop leeching!”
“Leeching? I gave you half a million!”
“You gave it because you wanted to!” she snapped. “No one forced you! And now you see the result!”
She turned and left, leaving her brother standing with his mouth open.
“Well, Sveta, you’re something…” was all he could say after her.
“Yelena Andreevna, the documents are ready,” the realtor said, handing over a folder. “The house is yours.”
Yelena signed the papers, took the keys, and left the office. Her cousin Nikolai was waiting nearby—she was buying the house through him so Svetlana wouldn’t catch on.
“Well, new homeowner?” he smiled.
“I still can’t believe it,” Yelena admitted. “I thought the money from selling Mom’s apartment would last me for years, and then such luck.”
“Sveta was in a hurry to sell, that’s why she let it go for half,” Nikolai snorted. “As the saying goes, greed killed the goose.”
“Not greed—stupidity,” Yelena corrected him. “Looks like the Good Lord didn’t burden her with much sense.”
They drove up to the house. Small, sturdy, with a beautiful veranda. Only the interior finishing remained undone.
“We’ll finish it in a year, year and a half,” Nikolai estimated. “My hands grow from the right place.”
“Kolia, you’re a lifesaver,” Yelena hugged her cousin. “Without you I wouldn’t have dared this adventure.”
“This isn’t an adventure,” he shook his head. “It’s justice. Let at least something good come out of this story.”
A year later the house gleamed with fresh paint and a new roof. Yelena stood on the porch watering flowers in the planters when she heard a familiar voice.
“Lena!”
She turned—Maksim was coming through the gate. Older, in a wrinkled shirt, with a pleading expression.
“What do you want?” she asked coldly, without stopping the watering.
“Lena, forgive me!” he came closer. “I was a fool! I understand everything now, I realize it all!”
“Understand?” Yelena smirked. “In a year and a bit? That’s quick for you, isn’t it?”
“I still love you! Let’s try again!”
“And where was your love all this year?” Yelena asked calmly, setting down the watering can. “Not a single call, not even flowers for my birthday.”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me…”
“You thought right,” she nodded. “And I still don’t.”
“Lena, understand, I’ve changed! Sveta dumped me too, I get it now!”
“You realized you’re broke?” Yelena laughed. “And now you remembered your ex-wife? How touching.”
Maksim tried to step closer, but Yelena grabbed the rake standing by the steps.
“One more step and you’ll get it on the head,” she warned.
“Lena, I’m a different man now! I have a job…”
“Wonderful,” Yelena nodded. “Keep working. Just far away from me.”
“But we were happy!”
“You were happy,” Yelena corrected him. “And I was a fool. But that’s fixable.”
“Lena, please! Give me a chance!”
“A chance?” Yelena raised the rake. “Your chance ended when you chose your sister. Leave, Maksim. Now.”
Maksim jumped back and ran for the gate.
“Lena, think about it!” he shouted as he went. “We can fix everything!”
“I already fixed it,” Yelena shouted after him. “I divorced you!”
The gate banged shut. Yelena watched him go and laughed.
“What a circus,” Nikolai said, coming out of the house. “Was he standing under the windows long?”
“About ten minutes,” Yelena replied. “Probably working up the courage to come over. Thinking how best to choose his words.”
“And words turned out unnecessary,” Nikolai smirked. “The rake was more eloquent.”
Marina appeared from around the corner of the house, barely holding back laughter.
“I couldn’t help it!” she gasped, wiping tears of laughter. “The way he ran from that rake! Just like in the movies!”
“He asked for it himself,” Yelena shrugged. “Silent for a year, and now he comes with repentance. Life must’ve roughed him up well.”
“And what about Svetlana?” Marina asked. “Did she find out about the house?”
“Through mutual acquaintances,” Nikolai nodded. “They say she gave Maksim such a scene—the whole yard heard. She yelled that he betrayed her, sold the information.”
“Information?” Yelena was surprised. “What information?”
“Well, she thinks he told you about the house sale,” her cousin explained. “She can’t believe she blabbed in the hairdresser’s herself.”
Marina burst out laughing.
“I can picture her face! She thought the poor ex-sister-in-law was hiding in corners, while she’s living in her house!”
“Not hers,” Yelena corrected. “Mine. Bought fair and square.”
“And she still doesn’t suspect?” Marina asked.
“Not yet,” Nikolai smiled. “But it won’t last. Sooner or later she’ll figure it out.”
“Let her,” Yelena said indifferently. “I have nothing to hide.”
“The bathhouse is ready!” Nikolai called.
“Let’s go,” Yelena put an arm around Marina’s shoulders. “We’ll celebrate getting rid of the parasites.”
Yelena stood on the terrace of her house, watching Maksim glance back at the gate one last time, and realized—the circle had closed: the very man who a year ago taught her to economize on sausages was now begging for mercy from the one he had called a spendthrift; and she, who had bought his sister’s house for half price thanks to her mother’s inheritance and her own hard work, no longer felt anger or regret—only mild amazement at how quickly life had put everyone in their places.
