I struggled to wipe away the tears from my eyes as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. No, I wouldn’t allow myself to crumble. Not now. After all, this is my apartment, and no one has the right to kick me out.
Who would have thought that six years of marriage with Pavel would end like this? We seemed like the perfect couple—at least, that’s what all our acquaintances said. A cozy apartment in the city center, a gift from my parents on my twenty-fifth birthday, our travels together, evenings spent watching movies…
I remember what my father said before the wedding:
— Katyusha, we’ll register the apartment only in your name. Not that I didn’t trust Pavel, but you never know what life may bring.
I just waved it off then. I believed our love would be eternal.
— Ekaterina Andreevna, are you asleep in there? — an impatient voice sounded from behind the door.
I glanced at the mirror once more, adjusted my hair, and squared my shoulders. No way—I wanted this… new mistress of my husband to see that I wasn’t broken.
— I’m coming out, — I warned as I opened the bathroom door.
In the corridor, an impressive blonde in her thirties awaited me. A costly suit, designer shoes, impeccable makeup. It was clear why Pavel had chosen her—she was the complete opposite of me: domestic and cozy.
— Alina Vitalyevna, — she introduced herself in an official tone. — I am Pavel Sergeyevich’s attorney. We have come to discuss the matter of your eviction.
— My eviction? — I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat. — From my own apartment?
Alina Vitalyevna tilted her head slightly:
— Pavel Sergeyevich said that this is your jointly acquired property.
Now I truly laughed:
— Did Pavel just forget to mention that the apartment was gifted to me by my parents before our marriage? And that it’s registered solely in my name?
A flicker of doubt crossed Alina Vitalyevna’s flawless face.
I remembered how everything began to fall apart. At first, it was little things—Pavel started coming home later from work, speaking to me less. He blamed everything on a complicated project, and I… I decided to give him space. I thought these were just temporary difficulties.
— I have all the documents for the apartment, — I said calmly. — Would you like to see them?
— That won’t be necessary, — Alina Vitalyevna took out her phone. — I will call Pavel Sergeyevich back.
While she stepped away toward the window to talk, I sat down at the edge of the sofa. My mind swirled with memories of the past few weeks.
That evening, when Pavel returned home unusually sober and composed. He said we needed to talk. I had just finished preparing his favorite roast.
— It’s better if we part ways, — he said then, staring somewhere past me. — I’m filing for divorce.
I didn’t create a scene. Perhaps it was my mother’s upbringing—she always taught me to maintain my dignity in any situation. I silently gathered the documents and filed for divorce myself, beating him by a couple of days.
Alina Vitalyevna ended her call and turned to me. Her face visibly changed—the previous confidence had vanished.
— There’s been a slight misunderstanding, — she said, trying to maintain a professional tone. — Pavel Sergeyevich… didn’t exactly explain the situation with the property correctly.
— You mean he lied? — I got up from the sofa. — You know, that’s just like him. He’s always been good at… embellishing reality.
Alina Vitalyevna shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other:
— I apologize for the inconvenience.
— No need, — I stepped toward the front door and opened it. — You were just doing your job. Although… — I hesitated. — May I offer you some advice?
She looked at me questioningly.
— Be careful with Pavel. He is a master of manipulation. Today he convinced you to come and evict his wife from her own apartment. And tomorrow…
I didn’t finish my sentence, but I could see in her eyes—she heard me. When the door closed behind Alina Vitalyevna, I leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor. My knees trembled.
The ringing of the phone made me jump. Pavel’s name appeared on the screen.
— What kind of circus did you set up? — his voice sounded irritated. — Why did you have to humiliate Alina?
— Am I the one being humiliated? — I felt a wave of anger rising inside. — And sending your mistress to evict me from my apartment—isn’t that humiliation?
— Alina is not a mistress, she’s my attorney!
— Who, by the way, happened to end up in your bed? — I couldn’t help but inject a note of sarcasm.
Silence fell on the other end.
— You do realize that I’ll still get my share of the property in the divorce, don’t you? — Pavel finally said.
— Which share? The apartment belonged to me before the marriage. You sold the car a year ago. What is there to divide?
— We have a joint account…
— That only contains my money, — I interrupted him. — Or have you forgotten that for the last two years you lived on my salary while building your business?
Again, silence. I could almost see Pavel frowning, calculating his options.
— You know, — I said slowly, — I’ve always wondered how easily you manage to charm people. Only now do I realize—it’s because you believe your own lies. You truly convinced yourself that you have any right to this apartment?
— Katya, let’s not… — Pavel’s voice sounded weary.
— Of course not, — I ended the call.
A week passed. I tried to occupy myself with work, but thoughts kept drifting back to what had happened. On Friday, I decided to take a walk in the park—after all, I had to start returning to normal life at some point.
The autumn wind swept yellow leaves along the paths. I walked, examining the soles of my boots, when I heard familiar laughter. Lifting my head, I froze—twenty meters away were Pavel and Alina Vitalyevna, holding hands, deeply engaged in conversation.
— So, not a mistress? — I murmured, feeling a lump form in my throat. — Just an attorney?
They didn’t notice me, and I quickly turned down a side alley. My legs carried me out of the park on their own. Suddenly, everything fell into place—all the late nights, the business trips, the sudden decision for divorce.
At home, I took out the bottle of wine my colleagues had given me for my birthday. I sat by the window, gazing at the city in the evening. A knock at the door made me startle.
There stood Alina Vitalyevna, but now she looked completely different—casual homewear instead of a business suit, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail.
— May I come in? — she asked in an unusually gentle voice.
I silently stepped aside.
— Ekaterina, I need to explain, — Alina began as she entered the living room. — The eviction issue… it was awful. I didn’t know the apartment was yours.
— You just decided to take Pavel at his word? — I sat down opposite her.
— Pavel can be very persuasive, — Alina lowered her eyes. — We met six months ago at a corporate event. He said he was unhappy in his marriage, that you didn’t understand him…
— Classic, — I replied with a wry smile.
— I behaved unprofessionally. I mixed personal matters with work, — Alina shook her head. — I’m sorry.
— For what? For falling in love with a married man or for coming to evict his wife from her own apartment?
Alina flinched:
— For everything. I… I broke it off with him.
— Really? — I raised an eyebrow. — And today in the park?
— Did you see? — Alina paled. — Pavel called, said he wanted to discuss business as a client. And then he started saying that he’d made a mistake, that he wanted to fix everything…
I laughed bitterly:
— And you believed him?
— No, — she answered firmly. — That’s why I’m here. I wanted to warn you—he’s going to come to you. He’ll ask for forgiveness, talk about a second chance.
It was as clear as day. The following evening, there was another knock on the door.
— Katya, we need to talk, — Pavel stood on the doorstep with a bouquet of my favorite lilies.
— About what? — I crossed my arms.
— I made a mistake. This affair… it meant nothing, — Pavel stepped forward. — We can start over. I’ve realized everything.
— Really? — I looked at the man I once loved, barely recognizing him. — And what exactly have you realized?
— That only with you do I feel at home. That our marriage is worth saving.
— And what about Alina? — I deliberately used her name.
Pavel flinched:
— That was a mistake. A momentary weakness.
— Lasting half a year?
— Were you keeping track of me? — Pavel’s voice carried a hint of anger.
— No, just that your “momentary weakness” came with an apology. Turned out far more dignified than you.
Pavel paled:
— What did she tell you?
— That’s enough, — I leaned against the door frame. — You know what’s the most amusing part? I happened to be at a café where Alina was meeting a friend. They were sitting at the next table.
— And so? — Pavel nervously tugged at his jacket sleeve.
— Alina was explaining how she planned to use you to get hold of my apartment. How she convinced you that she could claim the property in the divorce. Amusing, isn’t it? You thought you were manipulating her, but she was the one manipulating you.
— You’re lying! — Pavel stepped toward me. — Alina loves me!
— How predictable you are, — I shook my head. — Always believing whatever benefits you.
The next day, I met with Elena Viktorovna, my attorney. I gathered all the documents for the apartment, including the gift deed from my parents.
— Ekaterina Andreevna, legally the apartment is entirely yours, — Elena Viktorovna concluded after reviewing the papers. — But let’s be cautious. We’ll prepare additional documents to secure your rights.
The divorce proceedings went swiftly. Pavel didn’t show up—he sent his representative instead. Not Alina, of course, but some young lawyer who droned on in a monotonous voice reciting standard formulations.
Stepping out of the courthouse, I took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly free. I called my mother:
— It’s all over.
— How are you, darling? — my mother’s voice was laced with concern.
— You know, unexpectedly well, — I smiled. — I’ve enrolled in interior design courses. It was a long-time dream.
— And work?
— I took a month off. I want to renovate the apartment, get rid of everything that reminds me of the past.
I truly embraced change. I rearranged the furniture, repainted the walls, bought new curtains. Every change made the space more mine, cleansing it of memories.
Gradually, life began to settle. I rekindled relationships with friends who had quietly drifted away over the years of marriage. It turned out many had noticed Pavel’s odd behavior, but no one had dared to tell me.
— You’ve changed, — my best friend Marina noted over a cup of coffee. — You seem… more confident.
— I just realized something important, — I said while stirring sugar into my cup. — I always believed that trust is the foundation of a relationship. That it should be given in advance. But now I understand—trust must be earned.
— And one must protect their own, — added Marina.
— Exactly, — I set down my cup.
Six months passed. I nearly finished the interior design courses and even took on my first project—a small studio apartment. My Instagram featuring interior projects began to gain followers.
One evening, returning from work, I ran into Alina. She was coming out of a neighboring building.
— Ekaterina! — she called out. — May I have a minute?
I paused. Alina looked different—simpler, more natural.
— I wanted to say thank you, — she said. — Your words back then… made me think about many things. I really had planned to use that situation for my own gain. But you showed me what it looks like from the outside.
— I’m glad I could help, — I replied sincerely.
At home, I sat by the window, watching the city in the evening. Once, this apartment was simply a gift from my parents. Now it had become a symbol of my independence, my ability to stand up for myself.
On the windowsill, a cactus bloomed, which I had bought after the divorce. A small, prickly plant that, like me, was learning to protect its boundaries. I smiled at the thought. The future no longer frightened me—it beckoned with new opportunities. And now I knew for sure: my happiness depended solely on me.
