Oleg threw the heavy grocery bag onto the kitchen table with all his strength.
The paper couldn’t withstand the pressure and tore along the seam. Apples scattered across the tabletop, and a bottle of water barely avoided falling to the floor. One apple still dropped and rolled under the refrigerator.
Ksenia didn’t even flinch. She kept slicing the meat into thin strips.
Something was sizzling in the pan, and the kitchen was filled with the smell of garlic and spices. Outside the windows of the sixteenth-floor apartment, a piercing wind howled and a snowstorm raged. The cold tried to break into the warm home.
The man tossed his wet, snow-covered jacket onto a chair. It immediately began to smell damp and musty.
— From today we have separate finances! — Oleg shouted, leaning his hands on the table. — That’s it! Enough!
Ksenia put down the knife, wiped her hands with a towel, and looked at him calmly.
— What’s this sudden change about? — she asked evenly.
— I’m tired of carrying everything alone! — he pulled a crumpled receipt from his pocket and waved it angrily. — I checked the expenses.
Again expensive stores? Asparagus in winter?! What do we need that for? I work myself to the bone, and you sit at the computer and just spend my money!
— Oleg, we agreed. Groceries are my responsibility, and you pay for them while I finish the project…
— Forget it! — he cut her off. — No kids, we’re adults. From now on everyone lives for themselves. You pay for your own food, you refuel your own car, we split utilities in half. I’m not financing your luxuries anymore!
Ksenia looked at her husband. There was so much need for control in his gaze that she felt a chill. She understood: it wasn’t about asparagus. It was about power.
— Fine, — she said finally, collecting the apples. — As you wish. But then let it truly be separate. No exceptions.
— Good! — Oleg snorted. — I’ll see how long you last on your little side income.
Wednesday morning came with freezing cold. Oleg, out of habit, went into the bathroom and turned on the tap. Instead of hot water, only lukewarm water flowed. He grumbled, quickly showered, and stepped into the hallway. The floor was ice cold.
Ksenia sat at the table wearing a thick sweater. In front of her was a glowing laptop screen, and beside it a steaming cup of coffee.
— Why is the floor so cold? And the water barely warm! — Oleg complained, opening the fridge. Cold air hit him immediately.
— I turned off heating on your side of the apartment, — she replied without looking up. — And set the boiler to economy mode. You were complaining about costs yesterday. One person doesn’t need more than that. I already paid my share of the electricity.
Oleg froze. On the top shelf were containers with meat and vegetables. On his side was a pack of sausages and a piece of butter.
— Very funny, Ksyusha, — he muttered. — Give me the car keys. Mine is in the shop, I need to go far.
She took a sip of coffee and looked at him.
— No.
— What do you mean no?! There’s a blizzard outside!
— The car is mine. I pay for it: insurance, fuel, maintenance. Separate finances, remember? Take the tram. It stops two blocks away.
Oleg flushed with anger. He grabbed his bag and stormed out, slamming the door.
The trip to work turned into a real ordeal. The tram was overcrowded, someone stepped hard on his foot, and the freezing wind outside cut through him to the bone. At lunch, colleagues ordered delivery while he chewed cheap sausages, calculating how much money he had left until payday.
In the evening, a folder of papers was waiting for him at home.
— This is the monthly statement, — Ksenia slid the sheets toward him. — Your share.
Oleg glanced at it and nearly choked.
— What?! Where do these numbers come from?!
— We live in a good building, Oleg, — she explained calmly. — Security, parking, concierge, cleaning. I split everything fairly.
— My salary isn’t endless! If I pay this, I’ll have nothing left to live on!
— You wanted independence, — she shrugged. — By the way, I canceled cleaning your part of the apartment. Mop and bucket are in the storage room.
— This is insane! — he crumpled the paper. — I just wanted you not to waste money!
— I know the price of comfort very well, — Ksenia’s voice turned cold. — You, however, seem to have forgotten.
By Friday, the tension had reached its peak. Oleg slept on the living room couch, ate whatever he could find, and took public transport. He was convinced she would eventually give up and come back to him.
In the evening, he approached the building entrance and scanned his card. The system flashed red: access denied.
— Good evening, Oleg Nikolayevich, — the concierge called out. — Your card has been blocked. The management company suspends access for debts over two months.
— What debt?! I’ve lived here for years!
— Those are the rules. Call your wife, she’ll come down and pick you up as a guest.
Oleg felt humiliation burn inside him. He had to stand in the cold and call her.
When he finally entered the apartment, he was shaking with rage. He was about to explode when he stopped.
Ksenia was sitting in the living room. She was on a video call with a man in a suit.
— Yes, Mikhail Sergeyevich, the budget has been approved, — she said in a confident tone Oleg had never heard before. — The funds are already in the company accounts. You may begin procurement. I’ll send the schedules tomorrow.
She closed the laptop and looked at her husband.
— What was that? — Oleg asked hoarsely. — What company?
— Mine, — she replied simply. — A logistics business. Over sixty employees. I work from home, it’s more convenient.
Oleg stood frozen. Everything in his mind tangled.
— And… how much do you earn?
— Enough not to worry about asparagus. My income is dozens of times higher than yours.
He sat down on a chair. All his lectures, advice, and condescending remarks suddenly replayed in his mind. Now he felt very foolish.
— Why didn’t you say anything?
— Did you ever ask? — Ksenia sighed. — You liked being the “head of the house.” You liked feeling powerful. You paid for bread and thought I should obey you. I didn’t object until you decided to punish me with money.
— Ksyusha… — he stepped closer. — I lost my temper. I had problems at work, I snapped. Let’s forget this separate budget. We’re family.
— No, — she shook her head. — That night I saw your face. You weren’t looking for a partner. You wanted to see me beg you for pennies.
Oleg swallowed hard.
— So what now? Divorce? The apartment?
— Nothing to divide, — Ksenia stood up. — I bought the apartment before we met. It’s in my name. You only have registration here.
Oleg stared at her, unable to process it.
— So you’re kicking me out? Now? I have nowhere to go! I don’t have money for housing!
— Pack your things over the weekend, — she said, walking into the office. — And pay your utility debt. We have separate finances, remember?
The door closed.
Oleg was left alone in the huge apartment. Just three days earlier, he thought he was in control of everything. Now he didn’t even know where he would sleep.
