«Well, friends, let’s raise our glasses!» Natalia, dressed in an elegant burgundy dress, looked at her guests with a smile. The Christmas tree behind her twinkled with lights, reflecting golden orbs in the glasses of champagne. «To the health and happiness of our families!»
«Let me say this,» suddenly interrupted Sergey, her husband. He rose from his chair, holding a glass, and surveyed the guests. «To changes. From the New Year, I’m starting a new life. Natasha, we’re getting divorced.»
The glasses froze in their hands as if held by marble statues. The loudly running TV, which had just been playing «Blue Light,» suddenly seemed too loud. Someone coughed, someone pretended to suddenly remember about their phone. The children behind the door continued playing, unaware that the adult world was shaking.
Natalia, not immediately comprehending what she heard, froze. Her hand with the glass trembled slightly, but she quickly composed herself. She slowly put the glass down on the table and looked at her husband.
«Are you serious? Now, in front of friends, in front of the child?»
«And what, you think I should have kept quiet?» Sergey retorted irritably, sitting back down. «I’m tired of this show. Everything has long been going downhill, Natasha. Why prolong it?»
«A show, you say?» Natalia leaned on the edge of the table, leaning towards him. «Maybe the problem isn’t in the show, but in your ability to play? You’ve always been good at running from problems, not solving them.»
Sergey narrowed his eyes. He knew where she was heading and tried to remain unmoved. «That’s not true. I just don’t feel happy anymore. You’ve changed. You’re not the one I fell in love with.»
«I’ve changed?» Natalia sarcastically smirked, the irony in her voice made the guests press even more into their chair backs. «And you? Are you still the perfect romantic who promised me the sky in diamonds? Maybe I’m just tired of being the convenient woman for you, Sergey?»
Sergey couldn’t hold back and raised his voice. «Oh, please, don’t make yourself out to be the victim! You understand that this marriage was a mistake.»
«The mistake was putting up with your rudeness all these years,» Natalia coldly cut him off. She sharply stood up from the table, not looking at the guests. «Excuse me, friends. It seems the evening is officially over.»
She left the room, leaving Sergey under the stunned gazes of the guests. Behind the closed bedroom door, Natalia sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Awkward whispers and the quiet clinking of dishes came from the corridor. But she no longer heard what was happening in the living room. Her thoughts were too loud.
Counting the Past Natalia lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sergey’s words still rang in her ears: «You’re not the one I fell in love with.» Her lips twisted into a bitter smirk. «Who then? An everyday maid? Or a waitress to serve his dinners under Netflix?»
Voices came from the living room. Someone whispered quietly, someone began to head home. But Natalia knew that she would hardly sleep that night. She walked around the room, trying to calm her nerves. On the bedside table lay their wedding photo. She picked up the frame, looked at her shining eyes, Sergey’s hopeful gaze.
«Naive fool,» she whispered to herself. «Believed it would be like a fairy tale.»
Sergey was different then. Tall, with a slightly mischievous smile, with the crazy idea of going on a winter honeymoon to Lake Baikal. She remembered how they drank hot tea from a thermos in the cold, how he always looked for adventures, even where there could be none.
«Natasha, what about an ice hole? Eh? Let’s dive in! I’ll go first, you follow!» she remembered his voice, still heard his laughter. Then she laughed too. They were young, happy.
But everything changed. Everything became «like everyone else’s.» Work, a mortgage, sleepless nights with a newborn. She closed her eyes to his late returns from work. «He’s trying for the family,» she convinced herself. To his cold replies: «What’s up with you? I’m tired, just let me eat in peace.»
She tried to revive their relationship. Tried everything: bought new dresses, learned recipes of his favorite dishes, even tried to joke as he liked, but Sergey only frowned:
«Spent money again? What did you set up here, a restaurant? Isn’t regular food enough?»
«Try it, it’s your favorite…» she then smiled awkwardly.
«I’m tired of all these delicacies. Just give me some ordinary soup.»
And with each year, he became colder. Natalia continued to convince herself it was temporary. But the temporary dragged on. He buried himself in work, stayed late, and then even began to speak ambiguously.
«Work until night. I understand, but it can’t be helped.»
But a week before the New Year, she accidentally saw his phone left on the kitchen table. The screen lit up with a new message. The sender’s name meant nothing to her, but the text imprinted in her memory:
«My love, you said you’d tell her before the New Year. I can’t do this anymore.»
That night, Natalia didn’t sleep. She didn’t cause a scene, didn’t confront him. She just understood that something had long been broken. And that crack couldn’t be mended with dresses, toasts, or evening dinners.
She returned to the bed, looked at the photo again. The naive young girl with sparkling eyes was no longer familiar to her. She carefully placed the frame back.
«Enough,» she said quietly, but firmly to herself. «Enough dragging this out. Enough being ‘convenient.'»
Sergey’s words no longer hurt her. They just confirmed what she had long known. But now it was not he, but she who decided how everything would proceed.
Farewell to Illusions
Sergey woke up on the couch to the bright light that pierced through the slits of the blinds. The living room looked like a battlefield: candy wrappers littered the floor, a tipped-over glass with the remains of champagne, scattered mandarins. His head buzzed as if yesterday he hadn’t talked about divorce but had run a marathon instead.
There was the sound of running water and clinking dishes from the kitchen. Lazily stretching, Sergey got up and headed there. At the table sat their son, Sasha, eagerly munching on a sandwich. Natalia stood at the sink, silently washing dishes.
«Good morning,» Sergey began cautiously, sitting down at the table. He tried to speak softer than usual. «How are you feeling?»
Natalia didn’t turn around. She just shrugged her shoulders as if a fly had landed on them.
«Sasha, go to your room,» she said calmly, drying her hands. «I need to talk to your dad.»
The boy glanced at his parents but didn’t argue. He jumped up and disappeared behind the door.
Sergey frowned. «What’s this, Natash? Let’s talk normally.»
She turned to him, arms folded across her chest. Her calm was frightening. No screaming, no tears—just cold confidence.
«You were right,» Natalia began. «Let’s get divorced. You wanted changes? Fine. I won’t cling to what only holds me back anymore.»
Sergey flinched, trying to hide his confusion. He expected everything—hysterics, a scandal, tears—but not this.
«Now, Natash, let’s not be dramatic. We’re adults, why so abrupt?»
«Abrupt?» Natalia smirked, sitting down opposite him. «You declared yesterday that our marriage was a mistake. Our friends know, our son knows. How much more abrupt can it get?»
Sergey shifted uncomfortably in his chair. «Maybe I was rash. It’s New Year’s, emotions… You understand.»
«No, I don’t understand. But I’ve made many decisions for myself.» She leaned forward. «We’re getting divorced. The apartment stays with me. Officially, it belongs to my parents anyway. Take the car, your stuff, and go to your… what’s her name? Svetochka, Valechka? Or do you have someone new?»
Her words hit harder than he expected. Sergey opened his mouth but remained silent. She knew everything. Or guessed it. But something in her voice stopped any excuses.
«Natash, don’t boil over. We have a child. Are you doing this for Sasha?»
She leaned back in the chair, sighing wearily. «Sergey, you explain it to Sasha. But honestly. Why mom isn’t needed by dad anymore. Why he decided that ‘starting a new life’ is easier than fixing the old one. I’m not worried about myself. I’ll manage.»
He fell silent, nervously fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. Suddenly, he felt incredibly uncomfortable. As if he had completely lost control over the situation.
Natalia stood up, opened a drawer, and pulled out a folder. «Here are the documents. For the apartment, the car. I’ve thought everything through. I’m not asking for more than what you’re entitled to. And here’s the divorce application. Sign it, and we’ll start the process.»
«Are you serious? Just like that, right away?» Sergey’s voice trembled slightly.
«Did you think, Sergey, that I would beg you to stay? Or cry at night? You had a chance to keep the family. You threw it away. That’s it. I don’t have time to play your ‘rash moments’ game anymore.»
She left the folder on the table and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
Sergey remained seated in silence, bewilderedly staring at the documents. For the first time in many years, he felt that Natalia was stronger than he had thought. Her voice, gestures, even her gaze—all told him she would not return to her previous life.
