“I’m entitled to property,” Georgy declared.
“What property? Are you out of your mind?” Polina didn’t understand.
“My property!”
“Go sleep it off!” Polina slammed the door in Georgy’s face. “He’s definitely drunk—how else could he be talking such nonsense?”
Polina fussed around the apartment in a pointless whirl, tidying up and putting random things back in their places, while Georgy’s words kept echoing in her head… In the end, unable to cope with the anxiety any longer, she sat down on the couch and, phone in hand, called her younger daughter, Yulia.
“Mom, calm down! Did you forget who Galya is in our family? I’ll call her back now and we’ll talk everything through. Don’t cry—everything will be fine,” Yulia said after listening to her mother, and hung up.
“Right…” Polina said thoughtfully to herself as she set the phone down on the shelf. “Galya’s a lawyer. She’ll tell us what to do.”
She felt a little calmer. Polina thought about how lucky she was to have her daughters—and how much she loved them.
Polina and Georgy split up ten years earlier, when their daughters, Galya and Yulia, were twenty and seventeen. Galya was still studying at the university’s law faculty then, and Yulia had just finished school and was getting ready to apply.
Georgy left Polina. He simply left—suddenly, without warning. At first she thought her husband had stayed late at work, but that wasn’t it. Late in the evening, Georgy texted his frantic wife and told her he wasn’t coming home. He wrote that he was tired of the relationship and was leaving. Forever. The children were grown, he said, and nothing tied them together anymore.
After sending that shocking message, Georgy turned off his phone. He didn’t want his wife calling and demanding explanations.
Only then did Polina think to check the wardrobe. Of course, his things were gone. So were his documents, his winter shoes, his hat, and his down jacket (even though it was summer).
“So he prepared for this,” Polina snapped angrily. She was furious and hurt, yet her soul filled with a sharp, aching sadness. Polina loved her husband very much and couldn’t understand how he could do this.
The daughters comforted their mother as best they could. For a long time the woman was deeply depressed, forcing herself to go to work, while all household chores fell entirely onto her daughters.
And only her worries about Yulia managed to distract Polina. Her younger daughter was applying to university—there were so many nerves, expectations, and fears. But it worked out: Yulia got in on a state-funded place, and Polina was immensely proud.
Still, Polina would sometimes remember her husband and feel upset that Georgy hadn’t been there at such an important moment. It hurt to realize he didn’t care. He didn’t call, didn’t write, didn’t take any interest in the daughters’ lives. It was unimaginable, impossible to wrap her head around. She thought and worried and cried a lot. How could their marriage end so ignominiously? What was the reason? What was wrong with them?
Polina caught herself thinking she was waiting for Georgy to come back so she could tell him everything—slap him, even kick him hard, make it hurt. But he never came. Gradually her anger faded, replaced by indifference. That happened around the time her daughters moved out.
First Galya: she finished law school, and while still studying she met the man who would become her husband. Soon she got married and moved out. Then Yulia got married too, and also left her mother. Both daughters refused her offer to live together.
That was when loneliness hit Polina.
“Empty nest syndrome,” she smirked to herself. But really, it wasn’t funny. Her luxurious four-room apartment with a great layout—an inheritance from her parents—suddenly felt uncomfortable, empty, echoing. Silence… like in an unoccupied space. And perfect order.
Polina remembered how often she had scolded her girls and taught them to put things away, wash dishes on time, dust, change bed linen, towels and curtains, clean carpets, and so much more. And now… everything could hang and lie around for weeks and never get dirty. Order didn’t get disturbed. Everything stayed clean and in its place. There wasn’t even any dust. None at all.
And the loneliness.
“Girls, let’s do a move,” Polina announced one day at a family gathering when both daughters came to visit with their husbands. “We’ll sell this apartment. I’ll buy myself a two-room place, and I’ll split the rest in half and give it to you. You can buy your own apartments—use it as a down payment. In short, I want to sell this place, and as soon as possible.”
Galya and Yulia, who were renting, were surprised at first, but after thinking it over, they fully approved of their mother’s idea.
“Mom… it’s your apartment—you can do whatever you want with it,” Galya said carefully. “But it’s not a bad idea. We’ve been saving for our own place, and who knows when that will happen. And this would be such a huge help.”
“We’re saving too,” Yulia said. “But prices are insane… it’ll take us a long time.”
“Then it’s settled!” Polina concluded with a smile.
They found options quickly, and the move happened soon after. Polina was pleased: she not only helped her daughters, she herself was happy to change her surroundings. She fell in love with her new cozy apartment right away. It was on the first floor, and somehow the little front garden under her windows became her new hobby. She tended it, planting flowers and shrubs.
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long!” Polina rejoiced as she picked out yet another rose seedling in an online store. “I step outside and everything is blooming! And it smells! I open the window and my home fills with the scent of violets—so beautiful!”
Polina also got a dog—one she’d dreamed of for years. It wasn’t cheap, but Polina was happy.
She didn’t even think about her ex-husband. Not until the moment he showed up—completely unexpectedly. Polina was stunned to see him: ten years had passed since he left. Her first thought was, How did he find my address? And then… then she didn’t even understand herself why she let Georgy into the apartment.
“Nice place you’ve got…” Georgy said, shifting from foot to foot. The conversation wouldn’t come together.
“Want some tea?” Polina asked. She felt a strange sensation—something like déjà vu. And for some reason she didn’t want to chase him away; she wanted to dip into the past a little. Just a little—only for a moment.
They sat and talked. About the weather and other meaningless things. Then Polina said it was late, and she had to get up early to go to work—and if she didn’t sleep enough, she might fall asleep at the wheel.
“You have a car too?” Georgy asked, surprised.
“I do!” Polina replied proudly. “I took out a loan, and the girls helped pay it off. I have everything… unlike you. God is there—and the threshold is here. Out.”
Polina didn’t miss the chance to needle her ex-husband. She really was doing well. And he had given it all up himself and now sat here, hunched and pathetic. Polina noticed his clothes were old and heavily worn.
“My grandmother died half a year ago—you probably remember, I was raised by Grandma Grusha,” Georgy said. “The relatives came, started dividing up the apartment. In short, I only have one-fifth there, and the other shares belong to four different people. And now I’m living with noisy, big families from the south. Two families. They’ve made my life unbearable.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Polina snapped. “I’m not interested. Leave.”
“I’m begging you—let me stay for a week! I really need it. I’ll sort things out with those illegals…”
“Mom, have you lost your mind? Why did you let him in?” Yulia was shocked when she learned her father had lived with her mother for two weeks.
“I don’t know, sweetheart—like the devil got into me, honestly. He begged so much for help,” Polina tried to justify herself. “Nothing happened between us. He just stayed in a room, slept, went to work. Then he left. I didn’t see him again.”
“So what—did he solve his problems?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. I’m telling you, we lived like neighbors! At first he tried to flirt with me, but he realized I was determined and backed off. He was polite and tidy. He even screwed a shelf in the hallway back in place—it had been wobbly for ages. And then the neighbor came around collecting signatures (they want to change the intercom in our entrance), saw Georgy. She was probably surprised—maybe thought I’d found myself a man… There’s nothing between us, honey. He left, and I didn’t see him again.”
Polina was wrong. Georgy returned a month later and announced that he wanted a divorce and to split the property.
“Mom, what? Did I hear that right?” Galya asked, stunned. “You mean you still weren’t divorced from him?! Yulia, did you hear that? Oh my God…”
“I don’t know how it happened,” Polina sobbed. “At first I hoped he’d come back. And then somehow it all got forgotten. And I didn’t even know where to find him!”
“You didn’t even look into what you needed to do to get divorced?” Galya fumed. “You didn’t deal with it at all?”
“The lawyer in Galya just woke up,” Yulia said. “Mom, yeah… that was silly. You should’ve made him pay child support too.”
“What child support, Yulia?” Polina said. “Galya was already twenty and you were seventeen. Stir up a whole mess for one year?!”
“What exactly did he say—word for word!” Galya demanded, pulling out her work briefcase and briskly sorting through documents in plastic sleeves.
“He said we needed to get divorced. He said he would demand a fair division of property. Through the court. The apartment, my car, appliances—he even mentioned my dog,” Polina whimpered. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Oh God, Mom, stop,” Galya said, hugging her. “He wants court? He’ll get court. He doesn’t know who he’s messing with.”
The court hearing did happen. Despite how absurd the situation was, Georgy still managed to fray Polina’s nerves. Thankfully Galya anticipated all the nuances. A colleague of hers acted as the attorney. Still, Georgy brought plenty of surprises.
Up until then he had lived carefree in his grandmother Grusha’s apartment, where he was registered. He partied, brought women there. Grandma was already very old—she had recently turned ninety—and she stayed shut in her room, not caring what was going on.
When she died, the relatives appeared and began dividing up the apartment, and then rented it out to illegal tenants. That’s when Georgy remembered Polina—and the fact he had never divorced her. A plan was born in his head.
Making Polina feel sorry for him turned out to be easy. Georgy lived with her, and meanwhile prepared his evidence. He made sure the neighbors saw him. He often chatted with them, trying to become a familiar face. A couple of times he offered to help Polina buy and carry heavy groceries home. He kept the receipts…
In court, he tried to prove that he had been living with Polina the whole time and helping run the household. That he financed the purchase of the car—simply gave his wife cash, and she put it toward the down payment. That he bought the dog together with her—also gave cash. He just didn’t like cashless payments, preferred paper money. He bought appliances too—the stove and the washing machine. And the receipts? The receipts were at his wife’s home, but he contributed!
Polina’s neighbor came to the hearing and confirmed she had seen Georgy at Polina’s place in home clothes, fixing furniture. She often saw him in the stairwell too—carrying bags with food packages sticking out…
“This is awful, Mom…” Galya said when they came home after the final hearing. “We had to work really hard. He planned for everything. What a bastard—who would’ve thought…”
“Oh, honey… thank you to you and your colleague! The main thing is we won—we’re divorced, and Georgy left with nothing,” Polina said wearily, then smiled and added, “But I wouldn’t have given him my dog anyway!”
“And the apartment? And the car?” Galya asked angrily. “No way! Let him march back to his tenants and live with them. He wanted to improve his living conditions at your expense—what a slick little insect!”
“Didn’t work!” Yulia summed up. “We won’t let anyone hurt you, Mommy—don’t worry…”
The noisy illegal neighbors moved out. But Georgy’s relatives didn’t stop. They wanted to take over the whole apartment and turned to “black realtors.” First, they bought up four shares of Grandma Grusha’s apartment and moved in planted people—antisocial types—who, “honestly” earning their money as co-owners, made Georgy’s life unbearable. He sold his one-fifth share for practically nothing to those same “black realtors,” who offered their “services” at just the right moment.
The money he got barely covered a tiny dorm room—six square meters. Georgy was devastated. He cursed cruel fate, his relatives, “greedy” Polina, his daughters, “that nasty lawyer,” and believed that if it weren’t for them, he’d be living much better now. After all, he had only wanted to take what was rightfully his. Wasn’t that so?
He simply forgot the folk wisdom: “Don’t dig a pit for someone else—you’ll fall into it yourself
