“Why are you just standing there?! Get moving! I have guests over—am I supposed to set the table myself?!” her husband shouted at her, only to be thrown out of the apartment in disgrace.
Lena heard laughter while she was still on the landing. The day had been exhausting, and all she dreamed of was a hot shower and some peace and quiet.
When she opened the door, she saw the three of them. Andrey was sitting in an armchair with a can of beer, while Seryoga and Dimon were lounging on the sofa beside him. They were the friends her husband had been spending more and more time with since losing his job six months earlier.
“And here comes the lady of the house!” Andrey announced without getting up. “Guys, meet my Elena.”
Lena nodded and walked into the hallway. Her legs were aching after a ten-hour workday.
“Len, could you put something together for the table?” Andrey asked. “The guys and I are discussing some business.”
She turned around. Three pairs of expectant eyes were fixed on her. Empty beer cans and chip crumbs covered the coffee table.
“Andrey, I just got home from work. Why don’t you find something in the kitchen yourselves? There’s some sausage—you can make sandwiches. Or cook some dumplings.”
Seryoga chuckled. Andrey’s face turned red.
“Why are you just standing there?! Get moving! I have guests over! Am I supposed to set the table myself?!” her husband shouted at her.
Something inside Lena snapped.
“You know what, Andrey?” she said evenly. “I work from morning until night to pay for this apartment, the food, and your beer. Meanwhile, you sit here with your friends and demand that I wait on you as well.”
“Len, what’s gotten into you?” Andrey began, but she interrupted him.
“You haven’t been able to find a job for six months. I’ve supported you for six months. You don’t clean, you don’t cook, and you do nothing around the apartment. Yet you still have the nerve to shout at me in front of other people?”
Dimon stopped smiling. Seryoga stared at the floor.
“You want your friends to think you’re a real man?” Lena continued. “Then start by getting off my back and earning your own money! Find any job you can. Work as a street cleaner if you can’t do anything else! But stop living at my expense and pretending to be the master of my apartment!”
“Your apartment?” Andrey repeated quietly.
“Yes, mine! I inherited it from my grandmother. I pay the utility bills, I buy the food, and I pay for everything! And what do you do? What do you do besides drink beer with a bunch of losers just like you?”
Seryoga got up from the sofa.
“We should probably go,” he muttered.
“Yes, you should,” Lena said with a nod. “Andrey, you should go too. Go stay with your mother until you find a job.”
“Lena, what are you doing?” Andrey finally found his voice. “We’re husband and wife!”
“We were. Tomorrow, I’m filing for divorce.”
The guests hurried out the door. Andrey remained standing in the middle of the room, staring at his wife in confusion.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
Lena looked at him. He had once been a successful, confident man. Now he had become a slouching, beer-smelling idler.
“Completely serious,” she replied. “Pack your things.”
Half an hour later, Andrey came out carrying a travel bag.
“Len, maybe we could still talk?” he tried one last time.
“No. I need time to think.”
“What if I find a job?”
She gave him a long look.
“Andrey, it isn’t only about the job. The problem is that you’re no longer the man I fell in love with. You’ve become someone else. Instead of dealing with your problems, you decided that the whole world owed you something—and that I owed you most of all.”
“I looked for work!”
“You looked for one week and then gave up. After that, you started hiding behind me like a child behind his mother’s skirt. You shouted at me so you could look impressive in front of losers just like you.”
“Go,” Lena said quietly. “I need to be alone.”
The door closed. For the first time in months, she could breathe freely.
Her phone rang an hour later. It was Andrey.
“Len, I’m at my mother’s. She says you’re an idiot.”
“She’s probably right.”
“But I understand that you were right. I really did become someone I wasn’t before. Tomorrow, I’m going to look for work. Any work. You were right—even sweeping streets.”
“Good.”
“And us… Do we still have a chance?”
“I don’t know, Andrey. I honestly don’t know.”
A week later, he sent her a message saying he had found work as a loader. Another week later, he told her he had been promoted to assistant site supervisor.
A month later, he came to see her. His hair was cut, he was clean-shaven, and he wore a fresh shirt. He rang the doorbell like a guest.
“May I come in?”
She let him inside. He sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Len, I realized something. When everything in my life fell apart, I decided that the world owed me something. That you owed me something. But nobody owes anyone anything. I became weak. And instead of admitting it, I started getting angry at everyone else. Forgive me.”
She looked at him. There was something in his eyes that she had not seen for a very long time.
“I want to come back,” he said. “But not the way things were before. I want it to be different. As equals.”
“Andrey…”
“I’m not asking you for an answer now. I only want you to know that I’ve changed. And I’ll keep changing.”
At the door, he turned around.
“And guests will never come over without warning again. I promise.”
Lena was left alone. She thought about love, forgiveness, and second chances.
She took out her phone and stared at the screen for a long time. Then she typed:
“Come over tomorrow. We’ll talk.”
She sent the message.
Tomorrow would be a new day—and a new choice.