“How’s work?” Pavel asked as he poured himself a second glass of compote.
I pushed the folder full of reports further from the edge of the table.
“It’s fine. The project is almost finished.”
“And what about that programmer who was always missing deadlines?”
“He got fired.”
Pavel nodded and started slicing tomatoes for the salad. His movements were always precise and steady. Even after a twelve-hour shift at the factory, as he cooked dinner, he never rushed.
“By the way,” he turned to me, knife in hand, “we’re getting a bonus in December. Not big, but still. Maybe we could spend it on a new fridge?”
“Let’s first see how much we actually have.”
I stood up and walked over to the window. Outside, kids were riding bikes, moms sat chatting on benches. Just a typical Thursday. Nothing special. Except inside, everything had been upside down for the third day in a row.
On Monday, Sergei Viktorovich called me into his office.
“Anya, congratulations. Starting January first, you’ll be the head of the systems analysis department.”
I sat down on a chair and stared at him.
“But what about Igor…”
“Igor’s moving to another department. We thought long and hard about who to pick. You can handle it.”
My salary increased tenfold. Instantly. No transition period, no probation. They just went ahead and multiplied my life by ten.
“Anya, are you listening?” Pavel touched my shoulder.
“Yes, I’m listening. The fridge. Good idea.”
“Why are you so deep in thought?”
I turned to him. He stood there, covered in flour from the bread he was kneading that morning. There was a streak on his cheek from where he’d wiped his hands on his apron. My husband. Honest, kind, dependable. He counts every penny and gets excited over a five-thousand ruble bonus.
“Just a little tired.”
“Go take a rest. I’ll finish up here.”
I kissed him on the cheek and went to the bedroom. I turned on my laptop and opened my banking app. The numbers on the screen looked unreal. Like I was playing a computer game where you could buy anything you wanted.
I transferred half to the savings account. Thought about it, then moved another quarter. Left an amount on the main account just above Pavel’s salary.
“Anya, dinner’s ready!” he yelled from the kitchen.
“Coming!”
I closed my laptop and looked at myself in the mirror. Same Anya. Same eyes, same nose. Only now I could buy a new car every month. Or rent a house by the sea for half a year. Or pay off my parents’ mortgage.
“What should we watch tonight?” Pavel asked as I sat at the table.
“I don’t know. You pick.”
“Maybe something about travel? I saw a movie about Iceland.”
“Sure, let’s watch it.”
He turned on the TV and started serving me salad. Carefully, as always. A bit more tomato, because he knew I liked them. A little less onion, because I wasn’t a fan.
“You know,” he said, chewing, “maybe in a couple of years, we’ll be able to travel somewhere too. If we manage to save up.”
“We’ll definitely go.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course.”
I smiled at him and thought that I could buy us tickets to Iceland tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And every day until the end of the year. But I won’t tell him that. Not yet.
Because I saw how proud he was to provide for our family. How happy he’d get whenever he managed to save an extra thousand. How he made plans for our future life together, where we both saved for our dreams.
So I decided I’d just keep saving in silence. And one day, I’d surprise him with our own home.
Three months passed. I got used to my new position, to the meetings, to people waiting for my decisions. I got used to seeing the numbers in my account grow every month too.
Pavel was making coffee, humming to himself. He’d been in a great mood since early morning.
“Anya, let’s have a serious talk,” he said, sitting down across from me at the table.
“About what?”
“About our finances. I was thinking… We’re a family now. Why do we need two separate accounts? Let’s open a joint one.”
Something tightened inside me.
“A joint account?”
“Yeah. I’ll transfer my salary, you put yours in too. We spend together, plan together. We save up for a house, for vacations. Like normal married couples do.”
He was smiling, and there was so much excitement in his eyes that I felt even worse.
“Pasha, maybe it’s a bit too soon?”
“Too soon?” he frowned. “We’ve been married for half a year. What could we possibly be keeping from each other?”
“It’s not about keeping secrets, it’s just…”
“Just what? You don’t trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. Okay. Let’s give it a try.”
He beamed and reached across the table for me.
“Great! We’ll open the account tomorrow. And you know what? I already calculated how much we can save each month. If we really stick to it, in two years we could get a mortgage for a one-bedroom.”
“A one-bedroom?”
“Well, yeah. It’ll be enough for a start. Then we can always upgrade later.”
I nodded and finished my coffee. That evening, I transferred to our new joint account an amount equal to Pavel’s salary. A little extra, to make it look realistic. The rest stayed in my personal accounts, where by now I’d saved up enough for a three-bedroom in the city center.
Pavel was so happy. Every night, he’d show me Excel spreadsheets mapping out our future expenses. He’d calculate how much we’d need for groceries, utilities, clothes. He even made graphs tracking our savings growth.
“Look, if we cut back a bit more on entertainment, by New Year’s we’ll have almost a hundred thousand!” he said, excited.
I looked at his satisfied face and felt like a fraud.
“You know, maybe I should get a side job,” he said one day. “Evenings or weekends. We’d save up even faster.”
“Why do you need a side job? You’re already tired enough.”
“It’s fine. I just really want our own place sooner. I mean, we’re still living with my parents after all.”
I wanted to shout that we already had enough money for a home. That he didn’t have to exhaust himself, or count every penny, or skip the movies just to save more. But I kept quiet.
Because I was afraid of seeing disappointment in his eyes. Or anger. Or even something worse.
“Anya, what’s this?”
Pavel stood by the computer, holding my phone. The banking app was open on the screen – the one I’d forgotten to close while checking my balances.
“Pasha, I can explain…”
“Three hundred thousand rubles. In one account. Four hundred in another. And another account…” he scrolled through the screens in silence. “How much do you make, Anya?”
I sat down on the couch and clenched my fists.
“More than before.”
“How much more?”
“A lot more.”
“How much?” he raised his voice. “I have a right to know!”
“Ten times more than you,” I exhaled.
He put his phone on the table and walked over to the window. He stood with his back to me for a long time.
“Ten times,” he repeated quietly. “And how much do you transfer to our joint account? Thirty thousand? That’s nothing, then.”
“I wanted to tell you…”
“When?” he turned around. “When did you plan to say something?”
“I don’t know. I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“That you’d be upset. That you’d feel… like a failure.”
He laughed, but there was a certain bitterness in his laugh.
“A failure. I see. So I’m here making plans for how to save pennies, and you already have enough money for three apartments.”
“Pasha, please…”
“You know what hurts the most?” he stepped closer. “Not that you earn more. But that you decided I couldn’t handle this information. That you think I’m so weak and pathetic that I can’t be happy for my wife.”
“That’s not what I thought!”
“That’s exactly what you thought. Otherwise, you would’ve told me.”
He took his jacket from the hanger.
“Pasha, don’t go. Let’s talk.”
“I need to think.”
The door shut and I was left alone. I sat down on the floor and started crying. For the first time in all these months.
Pavel came home late that evening. His face looked tired, but calm.
“Sorry I yelled,” he said as he sat down next to me.
“I’m the one who should apologize.”
“We’re both at fault. I tried to control everything. And you… you didn’t trust me.”
I took his hand.
“I was just terrified of ruining everything. We were so happy…”
“Do you know what I was thinking about today?” he stroked my fingers. “About how you’re right. I would have been upset. I would have felt small. And that’s my problem—not yours.”
“But I should have…”
“You should have trusted me. And I shouldn’t have made money the most important thing in our relationship.”
We sat in the darkness, silent.
“Pasha, what happens now?”
“Now we’ll just be honest with each other. And we’ll decide together what to do with your money. Our money.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Mind that my wife is smart and successful?” He smiled. “Not one bit.”
The next day, we opened a new account. A real joint account. I transferred almost all my savings there. Pavel spent a long time looking at the numbers on the screen.
“Do you realize we could buy a house tomorrow?”
“I do.”
“And a car.”
“And a car.”
“And we could go to Iceland.”
“Tomorrow if we want.”
He hugged me.
“And you know what the best part is?”
“What?”
“That now we can truly dream. Together.”