Have some decency! You blocked the money, how is Mom supposed to live now? — raged the freeloader who had grown used to spending his wife’s salary.
— Are you out of your mind, Maxim?! — Anastasia snapped sharply, not even trying to keep her voice down. — Three hundred and fifty thousand for your sister’s car? From my accounts?
— Don’t yell! — Maxim barked back, nervously running a hand through his hair and turning toward the window. — It’s not only your money. We’re a family.
— A family? — Nastya repeated quietly, and her voice took on that cold mockery that usually made people uncomfortable. — Interesting. When was the last time you brought anything into this family? Not talk. Money.
Maxim jerked his shoulder as if brushing her off.
— I’m looking for a job.
— For two years, — Anastasia calmly clarified, pulling up a bank statement on her phone. — In two years, even a lazy cat starts catching mice. And you only keep transferring money to your mother.
She turned the screen toward him.
— Here. Forty thousand. Then twenty-five. Then fifteen to your sister. Then another thirty. Maxim, this isn’t help. This is a monthly salary for your relatives.
Maxim was silent. Only his jaw tightened.
— Mom’s pension is small, — he finally said dully.
— And mine must be enormous, then? — Nastya smirked. — Apparently I’m a millionaire pensioner, since I’m supposed to support your relatives too.
She slowly set her cup on the table.
The tea had gone cold, but her fingers were still trembling slightly.
Two hundred and twenty thousand in three months.
She still couldn’t believe this was really happening.
Maxim suddenly turned sharply.
— You’re just greedy! — he blurted out. — Mom always said you count every penny. A normal wife helps her husband’s family.
Nastya laughed quietly.
The laugh came out short and prickly.
— Maxim, — she said, crossing her arms. — I did help your family. You just somehow forgot to warn me about it.
— What’s there to warn you about?!
— For example, a car for three hundred and fifty thousand.
Maxim looked away.
— Darya needs it, — he muttered. — It’s inconvenient for her to take the child to kindergarten.
— What child? — Nastya narrowed her eyes.
— Well… yours. Lyosha.
Nastya froze.
— Mine?
— Ours, — he corrected automatically.
— No, — she said slowly. — Ours is when two people participate. You appear in the child’s life like a rare guest. Sometimes on holidays.
Maxim flushed.
— I’m his father!
— Then tell me the name of his kindergarten teacher.
Silence.
Maxim frowned.
— Well… that… Marina…
— Her name is Olga Viktorovna, — Nastya said calmly. — Three years. The child has been going there for three years.
She paused.
— But you know your mother’s card number by heart.
Maxim clenched his fists.
— You just hate my family!
— I hate being treated like an ATM.
He suddenly slammed his palm on the table.
— Have you even thought about how Mom is supposed to live now?!
— On her pension. Like millions of other people.
— You’re heartless!
Nastya looked at him closely, almost with interest.
As if he were a rare museum exhibit.
Here he was. The man she had once married.
Once, Maxim had seemed smart.
Funny.
Reliable.
Now standing before her was a thirty-five-year-old man who had not worked for two years and sincerely believed his wife was obligated to support his mother.
She suddenly felt a strange relief.
As if something inside her had finally clicked into place.
— The cards are blocked, — she said calmly.
Maxim spun around.
— What?
— All the cards. Access to the accounts is closed.
— You have no right!
— I do. The account is in my name.
— This is our budget!
— It was, — she corrected him.
Maxim pulled out his phone.
— I’m calling Mom right now.
— Call her, — Nastya said indifferently.
He quickly dialed the number.
— Mom, there’s a problem…
Nastya stopped listening.
She left the kitchen.
The bedroom was quiet.
On the bed lay Lyosha’s plush dinosaur — his favorite toy.
Nastya sat down beside it.
And suddenly she felt terribly tired.
Not from today’s scandal.
From the last two years.
How had she not seen it before?
Maxim had stopped being a husband long ago.
He simply lived nearby.
Sometimes he ate.
Sometimes he played with their son.
More often, he sat at the computer.
And constantly repeated the same phrase:
“The market is difficult right now.”
Nastya opened the wardrobe.
Took out a suitcase.
And began packing his things.
Shirts.
Jeans.
T-shirts.
She worked calmly, without fuss.
Ten minutes later, the suitcase was full.
In the kitchen, Maxim was still talking.
— She’s completely lost her mind…
— Yes, Mom…
— I think so too…
Nastya smirked.
The family council had begun.
She took out a second suitcase.
When she finished, she carefully placed them by the door.
Then she picked up her phone.
Found the lawyer’s number.
Wrote briefly:
“I need a divorce consultation. Urgently.”
The reply came a minute later.
“Tomorrow at 10. Does that work?”
Nastya looked at the screen.
Typed:
“That works.”
Sent it.
Placed the phone on the nightstand.
At that moment, the kitchen door flew open.
Maxim walked in quickly.
— Mom is coming over now.
— Why?
— To sort this out.
Nastya slowly turned her head.
— Maxim, — she said calmly. — This is our apartment. Our divorce. Not your mother’s family council.
He smirked.
— You think it’s that simple?
— Yes.
She stood up.
Walked past him.
And placed the suitcases right by the front door.
Maxim stared at them.
— What is this?
— Your things.
— Are you serious?
— Absolutely.
— I’m not going anywhere.
— You are.
— This is my home too!
— No, — Nastya said calmly. — I bought this apartment before the marriage. You can look at the documents.
Maxim went pale.
He clearly had not expected the conversation to go this far.
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
Maxim opened it sharply.
Ksenia Pavlovna stood on the threshold.
An energetic woman with bright lipstick and a permanent expression of being right.
She walked in without even saying hello.
— What is going on here?! — she said loudly. — Maxim said you’re throwing him out!
— That’s exactly right, — Nastya answered calmly.
— Have you lost your mind?!
— No. I finally came to my senses.
Ksenia Pavlovna planted her hands on her hips.
— We are family!
— We were, — Nastya corrected.
— You are obligated to help!
— I helped. Two hundred and twenty thousand in three months.
Her mother-in-law froze.
— Maxim… — she slowly turned to her son.
He awkwardly shrugged.
— Well… I told you she was greedy.
Nastya laughed quietly.
— Ksenia Pavlovna, — she said, — take your son. Before I change my mind and throw him out together with his computer desk.
— You’ll regret this! — her mother-in-law flared up.
— Possibly. But not today.
She opened the door.
And pointed at the suitcases.
— The exit is there.
Maxim stood motionless.
As if he couldn’t believe this was happening.
Anastasia looked at him one last time.
And suddenly thought:
Strange. Once, I loved him.
But now there was simply a stranger standing before her.
Maxim stood at the door for several more seconds, as if unable to believe the conversation was truly over. He had a suitcase in his hand, and on his face was the confusion of a person who had only just realized that the familiar world had suddenly stopped obeying his wishes.
— Are you serious? — he finally said, slowly turning to Nastya. His voice became quieter, but angrier. — You’re just throwing me out?
— No, — Anastasia replied calmly, leaning her shoulder against the wall. — I’ve simply stopped pretending I have a husband.
Ksenia Pavlovna sighed loudly, like an actress on the stage of a provincial theater.
— So that’s how it is… — she drawled with theatrical sorrow. — We’re interfering with your life, then. Your husband’s relatives are just extra baggage.
— Not relatives, — Nastya corrected calmly. — An expense category.
— How dare you! — her mother-in-law flared up, taking a sharp step toward her. — Maxim is your husband!
— For now, — Nastya said dryly. — But I’m already correcting that mistake.
Maxim abruptly put the suitcase down.
— You’re just having a hysterical fit! — he declared, spreading his arms. — Tomorrow you’ll calm down, and everything will be normal.
— No, Maxim, — Nastya said quietly. — Nothing will ever be normal again.
Ksenia Pavlovna snorted contemptuously.
— Listen to her! Some businesswoman. She earns money and thinks she’s a queen now.
— No, — Nastya said calmly. — I’m simply a person who is tired of paying for someone else’s life.
Her mother-in-law smirked.
— What a tragedy. You gave your husband’s family a couple of rubles.
— Two hundred and twenty thousand, — Nastya clarified. — In three months.
Ksenia Pavlovna fell silent for a second.
Then she sharply turned to her son.
— Maxim, did you really take that much?
— Well… — he muttered. — It’s family…
Nastya quietly shook her head.
— Family is when people help each other. Not when one person works and the rest live at their expense.
Maxim suddenly lost his temper.
— You’re exaggerating everything on purpose!
— Really? — Nastya took her phone and showed the screen. — Forty thousand. Twenty-five. Thirty. Another thirty. And that’s only in the last few weeks.
Her mother-in-law grimaced.
— So a son helped his mother… what’s wrong with that?
— Nothing, — Nastya agreed. — Except it was my money.
— You’re greedy! — Ksenia Pavlovna snapped.
— And you’re very generous, — Nastya replied calmly. — Especially when spending other people’s money.
Maxim suddenly stepped forward.
— Stop humiliating my mother!
— I’m simply calling things by their proper names, — she said.
— You destroyed the family!
Nastya laughed.
The laugh came out short and tired.
— Maxim… you can’t destroy a family if it no longer exists.
He fell silent for a second.
And then suddenly said very quietly:
— You just don’t love me anymore.
Nastya looked at him carefully.
— Love doesn’t end in one day. It dies slowly. When a person pretends every day that nothing is happening.
Ksenia Pavlovna sharply slammed a cabinet door.
— Maxim, stop listening to this nonsense! Get ready! We’re going to my place.
— I’m not going anywhere, — he muttered.
— Yes, you are!
— Why?
His mother suddenly lowered her voice.
— Because she is pushing you out. And we’ll see who the owner is here.
Nastya raised her eyebrows.
— Interesting.
— Yes! — Ksenia Pavlovna flared up. — We’ll see in court! Maxim has a right to half!
— No, — Nastya said calmly.
— Why not?!
— The apartment was bought before the marriage.
Silence.
Maxim slowly turned.
— What?
— Before the marriage, — she repeated. — The documents are with the lawyer.
Ksenia Pavlovna went pale.
— Maxim… did you know?
— No, — he said quietly.
Nastya smirked.
— There’s a lot you don’t know.
Her mother-in-law abruptly grabbed her bag.
— Maxim, we’re leaving.
He didn’t move.
He looked at Nastya as if seeing her for the first time.
— You really did it? — he asked quietly.
— Yes.
— You filed for divorce?
— Yes.
Maxim ran a hand over his face.
— You didn’t even try to talk.
Nastya looked at him for a long moment.
— I talked for two years.
Ksenia Pavlovna was already standing at the door.
— Maxim, come on!
He picked up the suitcase.
But just before leaving, he stopped.
— You’ll regret this, — he said quietly.
— Possibly, — Nastya replied calmly. — But definitely not today.
The door slammed shut.
The apartment became unexpectedly quiet.
Nastya slowly exhaled.
Her hands suddenly began to tremble.
She sat down on a kitchen chair.
And only now did she realize how tired she was.
Two years.
For two years she had dragged everything on herself.
Work.
The home.
The child.
And a grown man who had never learned how to be an adult.
She closed her eyes.
But peace did not come.
Her phone vibrated.
A message.
From Darya.
“So, are you happy? You threw my brother out onto the street.”
Nastya smirked.
She typed briefly:
“No. I just stopped supporting him.”
The reply came almost immediately.
“You’ll regret this. We won’t leave it like this.”
Nastya looked at the screen.
And suddenly felt a strange calm.
As if inside her, everything had finally gone quiet.
But a minute later, the phone rang again.
The number was unfamiliar.
She answered.
— Anastasia Sergeevna? — a male voice said.
— Yes.
— This is the bank. Can you confirm whether you are currently approving a transaction from your business account?
Nastya straightened sharply.
— What transaction?
A pause.
— A transfer of three hundred thousand rubles.
Everything inside her went cold.
— Who initiated it?
The bank employee hesitated.
— By power of attorney… your spouse.
Nastya slowly closed her eyes.
And whispered:
— I see…
For several seconds she said nothing. Inside, it felt cold and empty, like a room where the heating had suddenly been shut off.
— I do not confirm any transfer, — she finally said calmly, although her fingers had already turned icy. — Do not process any transactions from my account. Block everything immediately.
— Understood, — the bank employee replied. — The transaction has been suspended. But, Anastasia Sergeevna… the power of attorney for managing the funds does exist. It was notarized.
Nastya closed her eyes for a second.
Power of attorney…
An evening from almost two years ago surfaced in her memory. Maxim had asked her to sign several papers then — “for accounting,” “for the bank,” “for taxes.” She had been tired after a shift at the bakery and had not read them closely.
Stupidity. Pure, naive stupidity.
— I’ll be at your branch tomorrow, — she said shortly. — And I’ll revoke that power of attorney.
— We’ll be expecting you.
She ended the call.
The kitchen was quiet. Only the clock on the wall ticked so loudly it seemed to be deliberately reminding her: time no longer worked for illusions.
Nastya slowly stood up.
So Maxim had decided to play big.
— Well then, — she said softly aloud. — Let’s see who moves faster.
The morning began early.
She took her son to kindergarten, trying to smile and speak calmly along the way. Lyosha talked about toy cars, about a boy named Dima, and about how the teacher had promised them a new construction set.
Nastya listened and nodded.
And suddenly thought:
This is who I need to hold on for.
At the bank, they received her without making her wait.
The manager, a neat man of about forty, spoke cautiously.
— The power of attorney was issued a year and a half ago, — he explained. — Your spouse has the right to manage the funds…
— Had, — Nastya interrupted.
She placed the application on the table.
— From this moment, the power of attorney is revoked.
The man nodded.
— The account will be protected.
Nastya was already about to leave when he suddenly added:
— By the way… your spouse tried to make the transfer more than once yesterday.
— How many times?
— Four.
She smirked.
— Persistent man.
But the surprises did not end there.
When she returned to the bakery, the administrator, Olya, met her with a strange look.
— Nastya… there was…
— What happened?
Olya hesitated.
— Someone came to see you.
— Who?
— Maxim. And… his mother.
Nastya slowly took off her coat.
— And what did they want?
Olya gave an awkward cough.
— They said half the business belongs to Maxim. That he would be managing it.
Nastya laughed quietly.
— And did you believe them?
— No… but they were shouting so loudly that customers left.
Nastya felt anger begin to boil inside her again.
— Where are they now?
— They said they’d come back.
And as if on cue, the bakery door flew open.
Ksenia Pavlovna walked in.
Maxim followed behind her.
Her mother-in-law looked around as if inspecting her own apartment.
— Well, here it is, — she said loudly. — Our family business.
Nastya slowly approached them.
— Did you come here to put on a circus?
— We came for what’s ours, — Maxim answered sharply.
— Really?
— Yes.
He took out a folder.
— Here are the documents. I participated in developing the business.
Nastya took the sheet.
Read it.
And laughed quietly.
— Maxim…
— What?
— Do you really think a court will believe this nonsense?
— Why wouldn’t it?!
— Because bookkeeping isn’t done in your mother’s notebook.
Ksenia Pavlovna flared up.
— You underestimate us!
— No, — Nastya said. — I understood you a long time ago.
Maxim suddenly stepped closer.
— You think everything will end that easily?
— Yes.
— I’ll ruin you.
Nastya looked at him calmly.
— Try.
He suddenly grabbed her arm.
— You ruined my life!
Olya gasped.
Nastya yanked her arm free.
— Let go. Right now.
— No!
The next second, he shoved her.
Not hard — but enough for her to hit the table.
Silence fell over the bakery.
Nastya slowly straightened.
Looked at him.
And said quietly:
— You just made a big mistake.
Maxim smirked.
— And what are you going to do?
She took out her phone.
Dialed a number.
— Hello, police?
Maxim went pale.
— Are you serious?!
— Absolutely.
Ksenia Pavlovna threw up her hands.
— You’ll have your own husband arrested?!
— Ex, — Nastya calmly corrected.
Twenty minutes later, police officers were already working in the bakery.
Maxim tried to explain something.
Ksenia Pavlovna was indignant.
But the surveillance cameras spoke for themselves.
The officer calmly took her statement.
— Will you file a complaint?
Nastya nodded.
— Yes.
Maxim suddenly said quietly:
— Nastya… don’t.
She looked at him.
And for the first time in a long while, she saw fear.
— I will, — she said calmly.
A month later, the court hearing took place.
The divorce.
The division of property.
Maxim’s attempt to claim the business failed — the documents were flawless.
The judge did not even spend long discussing it.
— The claim is dismissed.
Maxim sat with a stone face.
Ksenia Pavlovna whispered something in his ear.
But it was already clear — their game was over.
When Nastya left the courthouse, a quiet autumn stood outside.
She inhaled the cold air.
And suddenly felt a strange lightness.
As if a heavy sack had been lifted from her shoulders.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from her mother.
“Lyosha is waiting for you. He said he wants to show you his new toy car.”
Nastya smiled.
— Well then, — she said softly. — It’s time to live on.
She got into the car.
Started the engine.
And for the first time in many years, she felt true peace.
Freedom sometimes comes not when you find love.
But when you finally stop allowing yourself to be used.