Marina closed her laptop and stretched her arms, trying to loosen the stiffness in her shoulders. It was almost eleven at night, and she had just finished the reports.
Being the financial director at a rapidly growing tech company wasn’t easy, but the salary made everything bearable. Two years ago, when she got promoted, she felt like she was on top of the world.
Her career was thriving, her husband was affectionate, their apartment in the city center — everything she had ever dreamed of.
Andrei was on the couch, his face buried in his phone.
— Want something for dinner? — Marina asked as she moved toward the kitchen.
— Uh… — Andrei mumbled without looking up.
She paused in the doorway, noticing his slouched posture. For six months he had quit the marketing agency. He was exhausted from toxic bosses and endless deadlines and wanted something more meaningful.
Marina had supported him: these last months, he had seemed constantly tense, restless. “Let him calm down, think, find a decent job,” she thought.
But the job hunt wasn’t going well. At first, he sent resumes and went to interviews. Then less frequently. In the last two months, it seemed he had given up entirely.
Instead, video games, TV shows, and endless scrolling through social media filled his time.
Marina opened the fridge and took out a few ready-made meals. After work, she had no energy to cook, so she relied on prepackaged food. Expensive, but convenient.
— Marina — Andrei appeared in the kitchen, scratching the back of his head.
— Mom called today. The bathroom pipes are in bad shape, the plumber says they need replacement, even the tiles are outdated.
— And how much will that cost?
— With materials and labor… around two hundred thirty thousand, I think.
Marina set the plate in the microwave a little harder than intended.
— Two hundred thirty thousand for a bathroom?
— Mom, you know how old the pipes are. If they break, the neighbor will flood, and it will cost even more. Better to do it properly from the start.
She took a deep breath. Her mother-in-law, Lyudmila Petrovna, lived alone in a small two-room apartment in the southwest of the city.
Her pension was indeed small, and Marina often helped her: medicines, groceries. But recently, expenses had become almost impossible to manage.
— Okay — she said wearily. — I’ll check the bill tomorrow and make the transfer.
— You’re the best! — Andrei said, kissing her cheek, then returned to the couch.
Marina ate her meal quietly, alone, as she had been lately.
On Saturday morning, a bank notification appeared: “180,000 rubles charged. Wildberries.” Marina stared at the phone screen, unable to believe her eyes.
— Andrei! — she shouted, leaving the bedroom.
He was sitting at the laptop, a half-full coffee cup on the table.
— What did you spend 180,000 on at Wildberries?
Andrei didn’t seem the least bit fazed.
— Oh, that. I bought a fur coat for my mother. Her old one was completely worn out, embarrassing to see. I found a nice mink coat on sale. And a few small things for myself too.
— Small things for 180,000?
— Don’t get upset, Marina. You earn good money, it’s fine, right? It’s my mother. Do you want her wandering around in the cold?
— That’s not the point! At least ask me first!
— Ask you? — he raised his voice. — It’s my family! And I contributed to this apartment while you were just starting out!
It wasn’t true. Marina had bought the apartment before marriage with a loan. Andrei moved in later and helped with the decoration, but not always.
Now, though, she didn’t want a fight. She turned and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, her heart tightened with a mix of anger and helplessness.
When had it all gone wrong? When had their relationship become this way? Andrei used to be thoughtful, caring. They had planned a future, dreamed of children and trips. What had changed?
The following weeks passed in a blur of work. Marina threw herself into optimizing the company’s finances, staying late every night, coming home exhausted. It helped her not think about anything else.
Meanwhile, Andrei fully embraced the “stay-at-home bear” role. The apartment filled with dirty dishes, snacks, and scattered clothes. Once a week cleaners came — another expense Marina covered.
One evening, Marina came home early, her meeting ended sooner than expected. At seven, she opened the door. Andrei was on the phone in the living room, his voice low.
Marina went to the kitchen for a glass of water and overheard:
— Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve already told her — no problem with the money. Marina earns well; we’ll manage.
A few seconds of silence.
— Sanatorium? Of course, you can go. You’ll recover, rest. I’m already looking at options. Three-week program, treatments, meals. Two hundred thousand, but no problem.
Another pause. Andrei laughed softly, satisfied.
Marina felt everything freeze inside her. Cow for milk. Manipulation. His cold voice toward someone she had loved, shared a bed with.
She silently put the glass in the sink and left the apartment without closing the door. The elevator, the street. The November wind hit her face, but she barely noticed.
She walked. One, two, three blocks. Shops, cafés they had visited together. The park where he had proposed. Everything felt foreign, unreal.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Andrei. She ignored the call. Another, and another. Finally, a message: “Where are you? I’m worried.”
Worried? How touching.
Marina stopped at a café, went inside, and ordered coffee. She sat by the window, watching the few passersby. Her mind was blank. No hysteria, no tears, no anger. Only a cold, clear emptiness.
She opened her banking app and reviewed the past six months. The numbers painted a grim picture: bathroom renovation for Mom — 250,000;
fur coat and “small things” — 180,000; new game for Andrei — 150,000; car loan he had neglected three months ago — 80,000; minor transfers to Mom, medicines, groceries, bills.
Six months — nearly a million rubles. A million she had earned, spent without asking.
Marina took a sip of cold coffee and called her friend Oksana, a family law lawyer.
— Hi, Marina! What’s up? — her voice sounded concerned immediately.
— Oksana, I need advice. Divorce.
The next two weeks passed like a foggy dream. Work, daily conversations with Andrei. He suspected nothing — Marina always wore her mask, useful even in negotiations.
Oksana explained the options clearly. The apartment was Marina’s, bought before marriage. Almost no joint property — the car was Andrei’s, already worn out. Divorce simple if Andrei didn’t resist.
Marina opened a separate account and transferred most of her savings. Changed all passwords. Collected documents and waited.
The moment came quickly.
On Saturday night, the doorbell rang. Andrei opened, and in the living room stood Lyudmila Petrovna. She looked anxious, her face worn, dark circles under her eyes.
— Hello, Marina — she entered without taking off her coat.
— Good evening, Lyudmila Petrovna — Marina replied calmly.
— Dear, I have a request. The doctors say I need to enter a clinic. Tests, injections, my heart isn’t stable, blood pressure unstable. Private clinic, full program, 85,000.
She looked at them pleadingly, Andrei beside her, showing his “concerned son” act.
— I won’t give more money — Marina said decisively. — Not to you, not to your son.
Complete silence. Lyudmila Petrovna parted her lips but no sound came.
— What? Marina, are you joking?
— No, I’m not joking. I know everything — she said to Andrei. — The conversation two weeks ago: cow for milk, how to manipulate me for money. Very clear.
— Marina, let me explain… — Andrei stepped closer, but Marina raised her hand.
— No need. Everything is clear. I don’t want you anymore. You’re just a burden. You stay home, do nothing, just eat and spend my money.
— But we love each other!
— You love money — Marina said harshly. — The man I loved is gone. Or maybe he never existed.
She passed by them.
— Now I’m leaving. I’ll stay in a hotel, I don’t want to see your faces. You leave. Three days. If you stay, I’ll call the police; they’ll remove you.
— Marina! Wait!
But she had already closed the door, leaving mother and son confused, angry, helpless.
The first night in the hotel was filled with relief. Not from self-pity — relief. As if a weight she hadn’t realized was so heavy had been lifted.
Andrei called, texted. First angry, then pleading, then angry again. Marina didn’t reply.
Two days later Andrei left. He took his belongings and left the key at the reception. Marina arranged cleaning for a full deep clean of the apartment.
The divorce proceeded quickly and smoothly. Andrei tried to claim rights, compensation, but the lawyer shut it down immediately. He left empty-handed, as he had come.
Three months later. Marina sat in a café with colleague Lena, enjoying the February sun, sipping a latte.
— You know, I saw your Andrei recently — Lena said casually. — On the subway, with a young woman. Totally smitten.
— New victim — Marina replied calmly. — Poor girl doesn’t know what’s coming.
— Aren’t you angry?
— You know, not at all. I’m happy alone. I can spend my money, no one exploits me. I didn’t realize it could be so simple.
— And his mother?
— I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. Now the new girlfriend will handle her son’s problems.
Lena smiled.
— Very wise to stop in time. Many wait until the last moment and ruin their lives.
— I almost got swept away — Marina admitted. — A little longer, and I would have surrendered completely. But I’ve worked all my life for freedom and independence.
And to give it away to someone who didn’t see me as a person? No, thanks.
They talked a bit more about work and plans. Marina mentioned she would travel alone to Italy — three weeks, cities, museums, just for herself. She had dreamed of it for a long time, but always postponed, for money, for Andrei.
Now she was free. Some might call her a cow for milk, but no one would decide for her anymore.
That night, sitting on the balcony with a book and a glass of wine, she felt a fleeting melancholy. Not for Andrei — for the old Marina, naive, who believed in love and forever. Who believed that if she tried, she could manage everything.
But the melancholy passed quickly. The old Marina was gone. In front of her was a new woman, strong, independent, who let no one take advantage of her.
This Marina was happy. She opened her laptop and began planning the trip. Rome, Florence, Venice. Three weeks, just for herself.
