“Get out, I brought my real family!”
Viktor stood in the hallway with two travel bags. Behind him, a woman gently held a girl by the shoulder. The girl stared at my boxes lined up along the wall and chewed the end of her scarf.
I put a roll of packing tape down on the little table.
“Move away from the door. The movers are about to start carrying my things out.”
“What other things? I already explained everything to you yesterday.”
Right then, the doorbell rang. Viktor opened the door and stepped aside. There were two big guys in work jackets standing outside. One held a foldable cart, and the other had a bundle of wide straps.
“Olga?” The one with the cart looked over my husband’s shoulder. “We’re here for the move. Where should we go?”
“To the small room. Start with the table and the sewing machine, then the boxes.”
Viktor held the door, blocking their way.
“Wait. Nothing is being taken out from here.”
The guy with the straps glanced at me.
“Should we wait?”
“Just a minute, please. We’ll figure this out right now.”
The woman took the girl over to the stairwell window. Viktor set his bags down in the middle of the hallway and turned to face me.
“Who did you bring here?”
“Movers. I texted you that I’d be picking up my things on Saturday.”
“I thought you meant clothes. Everything else stays.”
I pulled a folded sheet out of my pocket. I’d spent all night checking my boxes with it: fabrics, threads, tools, sewing books. At the bottom of the list were the table and sewing machine. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to keep working.
“I sent you this list on Thursday. You said: take whatever you need.”
“The sewing machine wasn’t on that list.”
I pulled up our messages on my phone. Viktor didn’t even look.
“Now’s not the time. Marina and her child just arrived.”
The woman by the window turned her head. So this was Marina—the one he’d told me about a week ago. Until this morning, I only knew her name and that Viktor planned to be with her.
“I can wait downstairs,” she said softly.
“No need. Olya is about to leave,” my husband said, moving the bags against the wall. “We just have one more thing to sort out.”
The sewing machine was sitting in my room under its cover. This morning, I took the cover off and wiped down the case—I didn’t want to take all the dust that had gathered under the table with me.
«Hey guys, what are your names?» I asked the movers.
«Stas. That’s Egor.»
«Stas, we’re running late. If we can’t agree in ten minutes, I’ll pay for the extra wait. Please don’t touch anything for now.»
Viktor heard me mention payment and immediately lowered his voice.
«You sure seem to have enough money. Guess I’ll be covering the utilities again.»
«I sent my share for this month yesterday.»
Marina came back to the door. She left her daughter by the window, where the girl finally stopped staring at the boxes and got busy with her phone.
«Vitya, you said there wouldn’t be anyone else here.»
«She’ll be gone in a minute. It’s not my fault she’s taking her time.»
I checked the time: there were five minutes left until the scheduled move. The movers had shown up a bit early. My husband apparently expected that, by the time he arrived, I’d have disappeared with all the things he didn’t want.
A week ago, he sat down at the kitchen table and told me we didn’t have a family anymore. I was cutting fabric for an order and didn’t put the scissors down right away.
«I’ve been with Marina for a while,» he said. «It’s time we stop making each other miserable.»
It was like we both understood exactly what this conversation was about all along. I asked him what he suggested. Viktor said it would be better for me to leave, and that they’d settle here for now.
«Why me?»
«You’re alone. You and your sewing machine don’t need much space.»
He used to say «sewing machine» almost affectionately when I hemmed his pants for him. But if I was working late, that word sounded different: always sitting there, not noticing anyone, constantly busy with some order.
I didn’t say anything then. The next day, I found a small apartment to rent, just big enough for a desk by the window. It was expensive for me, but I could manage the first month. The rest would depend on work, so the desk and machine were the first things on my list to take.
«Just don’t drag the appliances,» Viktor peeked into the room Thursday night.
«I’m not taking the fridge or the washing machine. Read the list.»
He wrote back, «take them,» and went to watch TV. And now, here he was at the door, demanding I leave behind exactly what I use to make a living.
«Vitya, I bought the sewing machine back when we were still just dating,» I put my phone away. «You remember that perfectly well.»
«It’s not about who bought it. Marina needs to sew, too. She’s got a child growing up.»
«Me?» Marina raised her eyebrows. «I only mentioned school uniforms to you. I can’t sew.»
Viktor looked at her with utter irritation, as if she’d messed up a rehearsed answer.
«You’ll learn. It’s a great machine—why buy another one?»
«I wasn’t planning on buying anything.»
Stas stepped aside onto the landing, not wanting to stand between us. Egor lowered the straps from the dolly. Neither tried to take sides, and I was grateful for that: I needed strong arms for moving the desk, not another man making decisions for me.
«Vitya, you were the one who told me to leave. I’m leaving. And taking my work with me.»
«You’ll manage without the desk. I built that myself.»
I glanced at the broad desktop. He really had built it: we’d drilled holes together on a weekend, picked the height, argued over the placement of the legs. Back then, Viktor was proud that I’d finally have a proper workspace.
— You assembled it. I bought the parts. Thank you for your work. If you want one just like it, you know how to make it.
— You’ve gotten smart.
— I need to take it with me. Not to win an argument.
I walked over to the table and picked up the last box I had prepared. Inside, there were scissors and chalk. On the outside, I wrote in large letters: “Don’t put anything heavy on top.” I handed the box to Egor, but before taking it, he looked at Viktor.
— So, are we working or not?
My husband stood in the doorway. I couldn’t get the table or the machine past him. He used this silence as he used to use his displeasure: everyone waited until he felt comfortable.
Marina picked up her smaller bag from the floor.
— Vitya, move aside. People are here, Olga is paying. Let her take what she needs.
— Don’t interfere. These are our old matters.
— You brought me into them. With a child.
He pressed his lips together. Then stepped back into the kitchen, pulling the chair sharply aside. I immediately turned to Stas.
— It’s better to move the machine separately from the table. I secured it, but keep it level.
The guys went into the room. Egor took the box, Stas checked under the table and asked for the way to be cleared. I moved the last bags to the nightstand. Marina took away Viktor’s bags and hers too.
My husband watched from the kitchen. When Stas lifted the machine, he made a move forward, but stopped himself.
— Are you going to take apart the dresser too?
— No. It’s not on the list, — I replied.
— Well, at least something stays.
The dresser stayed, not out of generosity. I just didn’t know where to put it in the new apartment. I didn’t want to take everything just to leave this place empty.
Three of us turned the table to get it through the door: Stas and Egor held the tabletop, I steadied the door. Viktor didn’t help. Marina stood near the dresser, pressing her hands to her stomach so she wouldn’t be in the way.
When the table was carried out to the landing, a strip of lighter wallpaper was revealed. Underneath, I saw my old pencil height marks. I paused for a moment, then went to get the next box.
The girl got up from the windowsill and asked Marina where she should take off her shoes. Marina glanced at the bags, then at Viktor.
— Don’t take off your shoes yet. We’re about to leave.
— Where are we going? — my husband quickly approached. — You wanted to see the room.
— I’ve seen it.
— It’s a mess here right now. We’ll fix everything up later.
Marina took her daughter by the hand and walked down to the floor below. There she whispered something quietly to her. I didn’t try to listen: the child had already heard more of these grown-up conversations than she should have.
Viktor came back to me.
— Did you set this up on purpose?
— The move, yes. Your meeting with Marina, no. You never told me what time you’d bring her.
— You could have avoided a scene in front of her.
I remembered the first thing he said when he walked in. The cups we used this morning were still on the kitchen counter. I managed to wash mine. I left his next to the sink.
— You told me to get out. In front of her.
He looked away, then grabbed his cup, poured out the leftover tea, and set it in the sink so forcefully I expected it to shatter. But it didn’t.
— Only because you kept putting things off.
— I said we’d move on Saturday. It’s Saturday today.
Stas called from downstairs: the first load’s done, we can bring out the boxes. I carried out a bag of bedding. Viktor didn’t block the hallway anymore.
Marina went up by herself. The girl waited on the steps below.
«Olga, can I ask you something? Did you know we’d be living here today?»
«I knew Viktor wanted to bring you here. He didn’t say when.»
«And have you… sorted everything out between you two?»
«We’re separating. The apartment is shared. We still need to work things out with it. Today I’m just taking my things—I’m not giving him the apartment.»
Marina slowly turned to her husband.
«You told me she wasn’t coming back here.»
«She’s not coming back to live. What’s unclear?»
«Did you tell her that, or is that just what you decided?»
Viktor reached for her bag.
«Let’s at least bring in the luggage first. We can talk after.»
Marina kept her grip on the handle.
«No. I promised the child we were coming home. Not to someone else’s move. I need to figure out what our home even is first.»
I didn’t want to become her advisor. I grabbed the last box from the room. While they talked, I checked the drawers: a thimble, spare needles, the charger for the desk lamp. I almost left the lamp behind, even though it was on the list.
Viktor walked in as I was winding the cord.
«Marina wants to go home. To her own place.»
«I heard.»
«You couldn’t, just once, have handled this nicely?»
I looked at him. A week ago he told me our family was over. This morning he called another woman and her child his real family. And now here he was, expecting my help again so his life wouldn’t run into any more ugly corners.
«I’m moving out on the agreed date. I’m not taking any of the appliances we used together. What else do you want?»
He glanced down at the lamp cord.
«You could have at least explained it calmly to her. That you agreed.»
«Agreed to what?»
«That we’ll be here. That you have no complaints.»
«But I do. The apartment needs to be sold or you’ll have to buy out my share. I’m not paying for you to live here. And I’m not going to pretend I gave you a home as a gift.»
Viktor sat at the edge of an empty chair. The room felt strangely big without a table.
«I can’t buy you out right now. I don’t have the money.»
«Then let’s talk about selling. That’s my suggestion.»
«Not immediately. I need some time.»
«So do I. I’m only just moving out. But I won’t drag this out forever.»
He nodded, staring at the floor. I didn’t take it as full agreement on everything. We’d need a separate conversation about the shared apartment. But today I had other work that couldn’t be postponed again.
Marina called him from the hallway. They took the bags. I heard the girl ask if they were finally going home, and Marina reply: yes, to our place.
Egor came up for the last boxes. I took the lamp out myself. Viktor returned from the elevator and followed me to the door.
«Olya, maybe you should stay for now? Since they’re not staying today.»
I looked around at the empty room. For the first time in a week, he offered me to stay here. At least until someone else needed the space again.
«No. The other apartment is already paid for. And the car’s downstairs.»
«I don’t just mean tonight.»
«And I’m not just leaving because of Marina.»
He didn’t ask what else was making me go. I zipped up the bag with the documents and the keys to my new place and stepped out onto the landing.
In the car, Stas double-checked the address. I showed him the landlady’s message—she was waiting for us and had already freed up a spot by the window.
«Should we put the table there right away?»
«Yes. I’ll show you which side later.»
My phone started vibrating before we even pulled out of the courtyard. Viktor had texted: «Let’s talk at the apartment. Don’t make any decisions for both of us yet.»
I replied, «I won’t decide for both of us. I’m not giving up my share. I’m suggesting we sell, and we can discuss the rest.» Then I put my phone away—at the new place, I needed to check the car before work.
