Morning light slipped through the blinds when Irina heard a persistent knock at the door. She had just made herself a cup of herbal tea and was about to have breakfast in the quiet of her new apartment. The last three months had been a real ordeal for her, but now things had finally begun to settle.
When she opened the door, she saw Taras.
Her husband — though only formally now, since the divorce had not yet been finalized — stood on the threshold with an arrogant smirk on his face. In three months, he had not changed at all. The same self-satisfied posture. The same contemptuous look.
“Well, well,” he said shamelessly, pushing past Irina as he stepped into someone else’s home. “Looks like you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
He walked into the living room, looking around at the new furniture as if he owned the place. Irina stood by the door, unable to believe what was happening.
“Taras, what the hell are you doing here? How did you find out my address?”
“Oh, come on,” he said, waving her off as he sat down on the sofa. “I have my sources. Nice little apartment. A bit small for the two of us, but we can manage.”
“For the two of us?” Irina felt a wave of outrage rise inside her. “Are you out of your mind?”
“What’s the problem? We’re still legally married. I’m your lawful husband. Which means this apartment is marital property. Fifty percent is mine by law.”
He said it in the tone of a man explaining something obvious to a slow child. Irina remembered that voice all too well. That was how he had always spoken to her — condescendingly, dismissively, as if she were nothing.
“Get out of here right now!” Her voice trembled with anger.
“Don’t shout. The neighbors will hear you. What will they think?” Taras smirked. “Sit down. Let’s talk calmly. I’m willing to forgive you for that little stunt you pulled when you left. I understand — women’s hysterics, hormones, all that.”
Irina clenched her fists.
Three months earlier, she had left him after yet another humiliation. They had been renting an apartment together, but living with a man who despised her had become unbearable. Taras considered her a failure. He constantly reminded her that he earned more, even though the difference between their salaries was barely significant.
“Taras, it’s over between us. I filed for divorce.”
“So what? Until the divorce is final, you’re still my wife. And this apartment is ours. By the way, how did you even manage to buy it? Where did the money come from? Found yourself a rich lover, did you?”
The last remark came with such a vile grin that Irina barely stopped herself from throwing the rest of her tea in his face.
“Get out of my home!” Irina pointed toward the door.
“Our home, darling. Don’t get confused. I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. Everything acquired during marriage is split in half. So you’d better prepare either to pay me half the value or sell the apartment.”
Taras got up from the sofa and began walking around the room, touching things, opening cabinets. His audacity knew no limits.
“Don’t touch my things!”
“Our things, sweetheart. And I see you’ve done quite well for yourself. New furniture, appliances… With what money? Your interior designer salary doesn’t allow for expenses like this.”
Irina said nothing. She simply watched him with disgust.
How had she ever married him? How had she failed to see his true nature sooner? Although, during the first year, he had seemed different — attentive, caring. Then it was as if someone had replaced him.
“Silent, are we? That means I’m right. There is a lover. Don’t worry. The court will take that into account during the property division.”
“Go to hell! There is no lover!”
“How vulgar. I always said you had no upbringing. Your parents never taught you manners.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my parents!”
“What? Does the truth hurt? A simple family — father an electrician, mother a nurse. Where would you have learned proper manners?”
That was the final straw.
Irina walked right up to him and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Listen to me carefully, Taras. You are going to leave my apartment right now. And you will never come here again. Otherwise, I will call the police and file a report for trespassing on private property.”
“Ha! Are you threatening me? Me? Your husband? I’ll move in here right now. Try throwing me out.”
He pulled out his phone and started calling someone.
“Hey, Kostya! Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I need your help. Come by tomorrow morning with the car, help me move my things… Yes, I’m moving in with my wife. We made up…”
Irina snatched the phone from his hand and threw it onto the floor.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taras shouted. “That’s a new iPhone!”
“Get out of here!” she screamed so loudly that the windows seemed to shake.
Taras picked up his phone and checked whether the screen had cracked.
“You’ll pay for the repair if anything’s broken. And what are these hysterics anyway? Calm down and behave like an adult.”
“An adult?” Irina laughed, but there was no joy in her laughter. “You’re talking to me about adult behavior? You, who humiliated me for three years, despised me, treated me like I wasn’t good enough for you?”
“Oh, stop it. I was just pointing out your flaws. I wanted you to become better.”
“Better? Telling me every day that I’m a failure, that I’ll never achieve anything, that I was lucky you married me — that was supposed to make me better?”
“Well, it was true. Look at yourself. Thirty-two years old, no real career, no children…”
“No children because you didn’t want any! You kept saying we had to get on our feet first!”
“And I was right. With your salary, what children? How would we raise them?”
Irina felt anger crashing over her in waves.
For years, she had endured it. She had hoped he would change. Hoped the Taras she had fallen in love with would return. But that man was gone. Maybe he had never existed at all.
“You know what, Taras? I don’t care what you think of me anymore. Your opinion means nothing to me. You’re a small, pathetic man who builds himself up by tearing others down.”
“How dare you talk to me like that? I dragged you out of your hole! If it weren’t for me, you’d still be rotting away in that little office of yours!”
“Dragged me out?” Irina laughed. “You latched onto me like a leech! You lived off me while pretending to look for work after you got fired!”
“That was a temporary difficulty!”
“A year and a half of temporary difficulties? And all that time, I supported you. And you still had the nerve to reproach me for my small salary!”
Taras turned red, but quickly pulled himself together.
“That’s in the past. Now I work. I earn decent money. And I have the right to half of this apartment. So pack your things and clear out a room for me. Or pay me half its value.”
“Go to hell! You won’t get a single penny from me!”
“We’ll see what the court says,” Taras said, pulling out his phone and beginning to photograph the apartment. “I need to document the property.”
“Stop that immediately!”
“What are you going to do? Hit me? Go ahead. Hit me. I’ll get the bruises recorded and file a report. That’ll cost you even more.”
He continued moving through the apartment, photographing everything — furniture, appliances, even the contents of the refrigerator.
“Not bad. Caviar, red fish, expensive wine… And you said you had no money.”
“They were gifts!” Irina blurted out, then immediately regretted it.
“Gifts? From whom? Your mysterious admirer?”
Taras stepped closer to her, and Irina caught the familiar scent of his cologne. Once, she had liked that smell. Now it made her nauseous.
“Confess. Who is he? Some rich old man? Or a young lover?”
“Step away from me!”
“What’s wrong? Is it unpleasant? Was it pleasant for me when you ran away? When you abandoned me alone in that rented apartment?”
“You drove me to it! With your rudeness, your contempt!”
“I was just honest with you. I told you the truth. You got offended like a child.”
Irina pushed him away and walked to the window.
She needed to calm down. Needed to pull herself together. But rage boiled inside her, demanding release.
“Taras, I’m telling you for the last time. Leave. Peacefully.”
“And if I don’t? What will you do? Throw me out? You’re a weak woman, and I’m a man. Physically, you can’t make me leave.”
“Don’t tempt fate.”
“Oh, threats now! I’m recording this, by the way. It’ll be useful in court.”
He waved his phone in front of her face.
“You know what? I’m generous. I’m willing to forget your betrayal if you admit you were wrong to leave. Apologize, and we’ll start over. In this apartment. Of course, we’ll need to register it in both our names.”
“May the ground swallow you whole! I will never come back to you!”
“Suit yourself. Then prepare for court. And for division of property. By the way, where are the apartment documents? Show them to me.”
“I will not!”
“What, afraid I’ll find out the truth? That the apartment was bought with your lover’s money? Or worse — that you registered it under someone else’s name to avoid dividing it during the divorce?”
Taras went to the writing desk and began pulling open drawers.
“Don’t you dare!” Irina rushed over and slammed the drawer shut, nearly catching his fingers.
“Aha. So you do have something to hide.”
The struggle over the desk drawers went on for several minutes. Taras tried to open them. Irina blocked him. Finally, she could not take it anymore.
“Get the hell out of here!” she shouted and shoved him with all her strength.
Taras stumbled back and fell onto the sofa, staring at his wife in shock.
“You… you pushed me!”
“And I’ll do it again if you don’t get out. Enough! I put up with your humiliation for three years. Not one more minute!”
Irina went to the desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and took out a folder of documents. She pulled several papers from it and threw them into Taras’s face.
“Here! Read them! Enjoy!”
Taras caught the documents and began to study them. With every line, his face stretched longer.
“A deed of gift?” he said, unable to believe his eyes. “The apartment was gifted to you? By whom?”
“Aunt Marina. My mother’s godmother. She had no heirs, and she transferred the apartment to me six months ago, while we were still married. You just didn’t know about it. She died two months ago, after we had already separated. That’s when I took full ownership.”
“But… but it was done during the marriage!”
“So what? Read the law, genius. Gifted property is not divided in divorce. This apartment is mine. Only mine. And you won’t get a single penny from it!”
Taras jumped up from the sofa. The documents slipped from his hands.
“You… you hid this from me on purpose!”
“Why would I have reported it to you? You considered me a failure, unworthy of you. Why would you need to know the affairs of someone as insignificant as me?”
“You… how dare you…”
Taras paced around the room, unable to find words. All his arrogant confidence had vanished. He had been counting on getting good money from the apartment sale — or better yet, moving back in with his wife and living comfortably.
“You know what’s funniest?” Irina sat down in an armchair, watching him unravel. “Aunt Marina offered to put the deed in both our names. But I refused. I told her my husband was a proud man, that he would achieve everything himself. That he wouldn’t want to accept gifts.”
“What? You refused an apartment for me?”
“For us. But I knew you would later throw it in my face that the apartment had been given to me and not to you. That it would wound your precious pride.”
Taras stopped in the middle of the room, breathing heavily.
“You’re a fool! You missed such a chance!”
“No. I missed the chance to tie you to me with an apartment. But why would I need a husband who stays only because of housing?”
“I would have… we would have lived happily!”
“Happily? With you?” Irina laughed. “You would have turned my life into hell. The same way you had been doing for years.”
“How dare you? I loved you!”
“Loved me? You loved only yourself. You used me as a punching bag. A verbal punching bag. Every day I heard how useless I was, how stupid, how much of a failure.”
“I wanted to make you better!”
“No. You wanted to make me convenient. Broken. Obedient. Dependent on you.”
Irina stood, walked to the front door, and threw it open.
“And now — get out! And don’t ever let me see you again!”
“This isn’t over,” Taras hissed as he passed her. “I’ll find a way to sue you for part of that apartment.”
“Go to hell. And don’t slam the door. It isn’t yours.”
But Taras slammed it anyway. So hard that the glass rattled.
Irina locked the door with every bolt and leaned back against it. Her heart was pounding wildly. Her hands trembled from the surge of adrenaline. But inside, she felt a strange lightness.
She had thrown him out.
By herself.
She had not allowed him to humiliate her any longer.
Her phone rang. Taras. She declined the call. He called again and again, then started sending messages filled with threats and insults. Irina blocked his number.
A week later, a court summons arrived. Taras had indeed filed a claim for division of property. But Irina’s lawyer only laughed after reviewing the documents.
“The deed of gift is flawless. He has no chance. Moreover, if he keeps harassing you, we’ll file a counterclaim for emotional damages.”
The trial did not last long. Taras lost on every point. The apartment remained Irina’s. The divorce was finalized that same day.
As she left the courthouse, Irina saw Taras. He stood near the entrance, shrunken and lost. When he noticed her, he rushed toward her.
“Irina, wait! Let’s talk! I understand my mistakes now. Let’s start over!”
“It’s too late, Taras. Far too late.”
“But I love you!”
“No. You love my apartment. You never loved me. And you never respected me.”
“Give me a chance. I’ll prove it!”
“May the devil take you. Leave me alone.”
She walked around him and headed toward the taxi. Taras tried to grab her by the arm, but a courthouse security guard warned him to step back.
A month later, Irina heard from mutual acquaintances that Taras had moved out of the rented apartment. He could no longer afford the rent alone. He had gone back to live with his mother in the countryside. He had failed to find a good job, too. His reputation had been damaged by the court story — a story he himself had spread everywhere, telling people how cunning and cruel Irina supposedly was.
And Irina?
She finally began to live.
Truly live.
Without humiliation. Without contempt. Without constant stress.
Her interior design studio flourished. It turned out that when no one is tearing you down at home, work becomes much easier and far more productive.
Sometimes, as she fell asleep in her cozy bedroom, she thought about anger.
Anger was not always a bad thing.
Sometimes, only righteous fury could help a person break free from a toxic relationship. She had shown patience and obedience for three years, and they had nearly destroyed her. But one day of anger set her free from a tyrant forever.
Taras never appeared in her life again.
People said he later married some very young woman from the provinces, someone who admired him and believed he was the smartest man in the world.
But that was no longer Irina’s story.
Her story was only just beginning.
