Nina was hurrying home that day as if she had wings. Her melodrama script had won a competition, and now a major film company had signed her for a series—twelve episodes! If all went well, they would continue working together on a permanent basis. Now they would definitely have enough money for the apartment of their dreams. She already had some savings, she would also receive the competition prize, then her fee, and at last they would make their dream come true. Stepan would be so happy!
Nina had not wanted to tell him in advance about her savings. She had been involved in financial investing for a long time, even before marriage, and whenever she and her husband started talking about having a home of their own, his mood would always darken, while Nina tried to cheer him up.
“We’ll work, everything will work out, we just have to believe!”
“And how long are we supposed to work for that?” Stepan would snort. “Until old age? Maybe it would be better to take out a mortgage on something cheap?”
“No, Stepushka, don’t be such a pessimist. We are definitely going to buy a beautiful apartment downtown, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a fireplace!”
He would wave his hand dismissively, but soon stopped arguing, as if he were just letting Nina voice her fantasies and nothing more.
And now, when the cooperation contract had been signed, Nina decided to tell Stepan everything. On the way home she stopped at a store, bought ready-made food and a cake so she would not have to stand at the stove tonight, and so they could spend a quiet evening together celebrating her success.
But her husband was not home. Strange—he usually warned her if he was going to be late. Nina dialed his number, but he only said, “I’ll call you back,” and immediately hung up. His voice sounded calm, and Nina thought nothing terrible was happening. She would rest for a while, calm down, because her heart was pounding from the excitement of such joy. She lay down on the couch and fell asleep.
Nina woke up because of a loud noise—something had fallen in the entryway. She opened her eyes: the room was dark. At first, she did not even understand how much time had passed, only saw the black night sky through the gap in the curtains.
“Stepa?” she called, quickly getting up.
She stepped into the hallway and immediately stopped. Something about his posture seemed strange to Nina. Stepan was sitting on the little ottoman by the wardrobe, and his bag was lying on the floor beside him—apparently that was what had fallen.
“Stepa, I have happy news for you!” she said brightly, hoping her mood would lift him.
“I have news for you too,” he replied. “You go first.”
Suddenly Nina felt the joy inside her dim slightly. Something was wrong. She crouched down in front of him and took his hand.
“No… you go first. My news isn’t that important… it can wait.”
For a while Stepan said nothing, staring at his shoes. Then he sighed.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” he began quietly. “I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Nina felt cold spreading through her.
“Step… what happened?”
At last he raised his eyes, but looked somewhere past her.
“I’m tired of living like this, you understand? Constantly saving, constantly waiting for some miracle. Working and still feeling like life is passing me by. I think… it’s time for us to settle everything.”
His words seemed to fall between them like heavy stones. He swallowed.
“Nina, you’re a good person, really, but… I’m leaving.”
She did not immediately understand what he meant.
“Where?”
Gathering his courage, Stepan looked straight at her.
“To Valyushka.”
Nina blinked.
“To Valyushka?.. Wait… that Valyushka? The very same one you always called ‘a crocodile in a skirt’?”
Stepan stood up abruptly, shoved his hands into his pockets irritably, and began pacing nervously through the hallway.
“I did call her that. So what?! At least she’s rich. With her I won’t be needy, you understand? I won’t have to count every penny. She said she’d buy me a car—the exact one I’ve had my eye on for a long time. And we’ll go on vacation like normal people do. Not just to a country cottage once every three years.”
Nina listened and could not believe her ears. He kept talking faster and faster, growing more animated. About the car, the trips, restaurants, a new apartment. About the life he was about to start. Only in that life there was no more Nina.
She looked at her husband—the man she had dreamed of spending her whole life with—and suddenly felt something inside her slowly breaking.
“Step, wait…” Nina said softly, lifting her eyes to him. “Are you seriously saying this right now?”
She studied his face carefully, as though trying to find some sign that this was a joke. Maybe it was some strange attempt at humor? Or maybe he had just said something stupid in the heat of the moment? But Stepan looked completely certain.
“So…” Nina tilted her head slightly, choosing her words. “You are really ready to live with that woman for financial well-being, the one you yourself said was…” she gave an involuntary little smile, “…‘scarier than an atomic war’?”
Stepan shrugged irritably.
“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” he waved her off. “She’s not as ugly as she seems.”
He thought for a second and then added, like a man who had just discovered a great universal truth:
“Besides, a woman’s beauty depends entirely on makeup.”
Nina sighed quietly.
“Well, yes…” she said with a bitter little laugh. “That’s true.”
And suddenly she found it genuinely funny. Not bitter, not painful—actually funny. She remembered dozens of evenings in the company of mutual friends. The moment Valentina appeared in the doorway—large, loud, with a sharp voice—Stepan would grimace, and then on the way home start making snide comments: “Valka’s dressed up like a Christmas tree again…,” “With her personality, she ought to be driving a tank…,” “A crocodile in a skirt…”
Sometimes Nina had even asked him to be kinder.
“Step, why do you say things like that? She’s a perfectly normal woman.”
And he would just snort.
And now… “Valyushka.” Nina even drew the word out in her mind and nodded: Val-yu-u-ushka… Well, imagine that. Sometimes life takes turns that no screenwriter could come up with. And then it suddenly dawned on Nina: how lucky that she had told him nothing—nothing about winning the competition, nothing about the contract, nothing about her savings. She even imagined what a storyline this could make for her next series, and barely suppressed a smile. She could never have invented such a plot on purpose.
“Just don’t make a scene, Nina,” Stepan went on meanwhile, “like abandoned wives love to do.”
Nina slowly raised her eyes to him.
“Step…” she said calmly. “Abandoned women probably do that.”
She turned her head and looked at him so intently that for a second he seemed embarrassed.
“But you didn’t abandon me. You lost me.”
Stepan gave a quiet snort, as if he did not attach much importance to her words, and went to the wardrobe. He opened the door and began quickly pulling things off the shelves.
“Valyushka is waiting for me in the car,” he said without turning around. “So I’ll just take the essentials now, and then I’ll come back later for the rest.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly, as if he were talking about a two-day business trip.
“Yes, of course… whatever you say,” Nina replied, and suddenly realized that she really was amused. She herself did not understand how that was possible. Just a few hours ago she had been racing home, dreaming of hugging her husband, telling him her news, seeing his joy. She had loved him. Truly loved him. She had made plans, imagined their future. And now… it was as if someone had suddenly lifted some strange curse from her.
Nina thought: if Stepan had left for another woman… a beautiful woman, a smart woman, a woman he loved… then maybe that would have been a real betrayal. That would have hurt. But this looked different. He had not left—he had simply sold himself. And because of that, not only her love dissolved inside Nina’s soul. Even her respect for him was gone.
Meanwhile, Stepan was already pulling shirts from the wardrobe, folding them into a suitcase, stuffing in socks and some T-shirts in haste.
“And, uh, Nina…” he said suddenly, then coughed awkwardly.
He was clearly hesitating.
“What?” she asked calmly.
“Could you give me some money?” he said, trying to sound casual. “I paid the rent for the month… but I only lived here for a couple of days of that paid period.”
Nina smirked.
“Oh yes… of course.”
She took out her phone and opened her banking app.
“I’ll transfer it now,” she said. “To your account? Or to Valyushka’s?”
Stepan sighed irritably.
“Nina, come on, understand… I just need some money to get started. To buy flowers for Valyushka, for one thing. I have to do it properly.” He looked at her with mild reproach. “You’re behaving like an offended child.”
Nina nodded with a serious expression.
“Of course, darling. Forgive me.” And with light irony she added, “Transfer completed. Happy shopping.”
She did not even bother reminding him that although he had paid the rent, everything else—food, clothes, household items—had been bought by her. Everything now lying in his suitcase—shirts, jeans, jacket—had been purchased with her money. After all, when Stepan had moved in with her after they registered their marriage… he had brought only one bag. Back then Nina had been sure that together they could achieve anything. But now she did not want to stoop to pettiness. She did not want to sink to the level of someone bargaining over money while leaving for a rich woman. She only looked at him and thought: “How did I fail to notice these qualities in him before?..” Perhaps people were right. Love really is blind.
When the door closed behind Stepan, the apartment became unusually quiet. That kind of silence that at first seems like calm, but then suddenly starts ringing in your ears. Nina stood in the hallway for a few seconds, listening to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. At first they were distinct, then fainter… and finally disappeared altogether.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
“Well, that’s it…” she said softly to herself.
Then she decided to take a bath, if only to come to her senses a little after such an evening. Nina went into the bathroom, turned the taps on harder so the water would fill faster, and, as if drawn by some curiosity, walked to the window.
From their apartment there was a good view of the courtyard. The streetlamps lit the parked cars with a soft yellow light. A light wind stirred the tree branches, and shadows crawled slowly across the asphalt. Stepan had just come out of the building. He set the suitcase on the ground, opened the trunk of the car, and began loading his things into it. Valentina stood nearby. A broad figure, a heavy coat, a bright scarf wrapped around her neck several times. She was talking animatedly, waving her hand, while Stepan nodded.
Nina involuntarily smirked.
“Well, well… you really outdid yourself, Stepan…” she murmured.
And suddenly she began to wonder: when had he become like this? She tried to remember. When they first met, Stepan had been different. Cheerful, easygoing, always joking. He had a wonderful sense of humor—he could make her laugh even on her worst day. But then they got married, and gradually the conversations began to change. Stepan spoke more and more often about money, about how hard it was to live without their own place, about how bad it was to be poor.
“You understand, Nina,” he would sometimes say in the evenings while scrolling through apartment listings, “life is passing by, and we’re still renting. It’s humiliating.”
Although, honestly, they had not lived in deprivation. Yes, the apartment was rented, but they had no debts. They could buy groceries without worry, sometimes went to cafés, and once a year went on vacation. And these days that was almost a luxury. But Stepan was still irritated by it. More and more often he would say, “I’m tired of saving. I want to live properly,” or, “Why do some people have everything while others have to save all their lives?”
Back then Nina had not given much importance to those words, but now she stood by the window and suddenly thought: maybe he had always been like that. Maybe she simply had not wanted to see it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp ring of the doorbell. Nina flinched.
“Good Lord… who now…”
She quickly stepped into the hallway, and at that very moment heard a strange sound. A quiet trickling. She spun around and ran into the bathroom. The water had already spilled over the edge, and there was a whole puddle on the floor.
“Oh!”
Nina immediately shut off the taps, pulled the plug, and the water began roaring down the drain. Only after that did she wipe her hands on a towel and hurry to open the door. A man was standing on the threshold. Nina started speaking at once without really looking at him.
“I’m so terribly sorry, please forgive me! I’ll clean everything up right now, and if it leaked into your place, I’ll pay for everything, honestly…”
“Nina?”
She raised her eyes and for a second lost the power of speech.
“Maksim?..” she said in confusion. “You… how? Here?”
Before her stood Max. The very same guy who had lived next door to them for many years in another city. He smiled, but the smile was slightly tense.
“I actually live a floor below you,” he said. “And you almost flooded me. Good thing I noticed in time. Come on, let’s get the water cleaned up at your place quickly.”
“Oh, right… right now!”
Nina rushed into the bathroom, grabbed a large towel, and began wiping the water off the floor. Maksim came in too and helped her. A few minutes later, the bathroom looked more or less decent again.
“What an evening…” Nina sighed.
“No kidding,” Max smirked.
Half an hour later they were already sitting in the kitchen drinking tea. It all seemed like such a strange coincidence. A person who had lived next door to them for years in another city had suddenly turned out to be her neighbor here too.
“You see,” Maksim said, turning the mug in his hands, “the world isn’t all that round after all.”
“That’s true,” Nina smiled.
He told her that several years ago he had come here on vacation, just to see the city, and… had fallen in love with it.
“Things like that happen,” he said. “I walked along the embankment, sat in a café, and realized—I want to live here.”
At first he moved temporarily, then stayed. Now he was renting an apartment.
“But actually, I’m planning to buy a place,” he added. “I’m already looking at options.”
Nina perked up.
“Really? Me too!”
And they began discussing apartments. At one point Nina even brought her laptop and showed him several interiors she liked. Maksim studied the photos carefully and suddenly said:
“You know… our tastes are almost identical.”
Nina laughed.
“Looks like it.”
After that evening they began dropping in on each other often, sometimes just to have tea, sometimes to discuss new apartment listings for sale. “Look at this kitchen!” “And this balcony is huge.” “And this layout is absolutely perfect.” And more and more often it turned out that they liked the same things.
And Nina suddenly caught herself thinking that for the first time in a long while, it was truly easy for her to talk to someone about the future.
Then they went walking together along the embankment, because the weather was unusually warm and calm for autumn. And somehow these meetings gradually became almost daily. They themselves did not notice how they started spending more and more time together. With Maksim, everything was astonishingly easy. He did not complain about life, did not talk endlessly about money, did not compare himself to other people. He had a calm, slightly ironic attitude toward life that gradually soothed Nina.
And then she noticed that she had stopped thinking about Stepan. At first that even surprised her, because not long ago she had been sure she could not live without him, that their family was forever. But now… only a few months had passed, and her memories of him had already faded. They had become like an old photograph you случайно find in a drawer: something familiar, perhaps, but no longer touching you at all.
Nina calmly filed for divorce, and just a few weeks later received the document. She sat at the kitchen table at home, studying it for a long time.
“Certificate of dissolution of marriage…” she read softly.
Then she smiled.
“Certificate of freedom,” she corrected herself.
Life, meanwhile, went on. Nina kept working on the series, writing new scenes, talking to producers. Maksim worked on his own projects. And in the evenings they more and more often discussed the same subject—housing. Both dreamed of having a home of their own.
One day Nina found a listing that immediately caught her attention. The apartment was almost exactly what she had dreamed of: bright, with large windows, in a good area, with a spacious kitchen. She immediately sent the link to Maksim. A minute later he called her.
“Nina…” he said in a strange voice. “When did you schedule the viewing?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Maksim fell silent for a second.
“That’s interesting,” he said slowly. “Because I also arranged to view that same apartment.”
The next day they met by that very building. Nina viewed the apartment first, then Maksim, and that evening they were sitting in the kitchen again, sharing impressions.
“I really liked the kitchen,” Nina said. “You could fit a big table in there.”
“And I liked the living room,” Maksim replied. “And the windows. Can you imagine the light there in the mornings?”
“And the layout is convenient.”
“And the neighborhood is excellent.”
They both fell silent, because they understood one simple thing: they had both fallen for the apartment, and neither wanted to give way. Finally Maksim leaned back in his chair and said:
“Well… then the solution is obvious.”
Nina narrowed her eyes.
“What solution?”
He looked at her with a slight smile.
“We have to buy it together.”
For a few seconds Nina said nothing. Then she raised her brows.
“And are we going to live together too?”
Maksim shrugged, as if it were the most elementary question in the world.
“Of course. We’ll make it official… and live together.”
Nina thought about it. All of this was too unexpected. Not long ago she had been getting divorced, not long ago her life had been falling apart, and now… a new man, a shared apartment, marriage… She did not want to rush headlong into anything. Life had already shown her once that haste can come at a high price.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, and they did not return to the subject that evening.
…And of course they did get married, but only a year and a half later. In that time, a lot changed. Unfortunately, neither of them managed to buy that apartment—it was snapped up quite quickly by someone else. But Nina and Maksim were not upset, because during that time they found an even better option: a small house on a quiet street, with a garden and a large kitchen-living room where the whole family could gather.
They bought the house after the wedding, and Nina often thought about how strangely life sometimes comes together. If Stepan had not left then… if she had not forgotten to turn off the water… if Maksim had not lived on the floor below… maybe their paths would never have crossed.
And now she was happy. Maksim turned out to be the kind of man beside whom life became calm and reliable. He was a good husband, and when they had children—he became a wonderful father too.
She heard almost nothing about Stepan. Sometimes mutual acquaintances would mention him in passing, and once at the dinner table someone said with a slight smirk:
“Oh, they say Stepka has landed in an iron grip.”
It turned out that his new life was not so simple. Valentina really did live in wealth, but the money was not actually hers. Everything was controlled by her father—a stern and very demanding man—and in order to get any benefit at all from that marriage, Stepan had to work for his father-in-law practically without days off. Meanwhile, Valentina sat at home without a care in the world. Why should she worry? She knew one simple truth perfectly well: Stepan was not going anywhere, because he feared his father-in-law far more… than he had once feared living without money.
