The evening had promised to be quiet. Outside the window, a fine October rain was drizzling, tapping against the metal sill. The apartment smelled of roasted chicken and fresh bread. Nadya was sitting at the table beside her seven-year-old daughter, checking her math homework. Alisa was carefully writing numbers in her notebook, sometimes furrowing her brow in a funny way, exactly like her father. Nadya caught herself thinking that and immediately pushed the thought away. She did not want to remember.
The doorbell rang sharply and demandingly. Not once, but in one long, insistent trill that, for some reason, immediately made Nadya’s stomach tighten. She looked through the peephole and froze.
Antonina Petrovna was standing on the threshold. Her former mother-in-law.
The woman was holding a large glossy shopping bag and an umbrella, which she had not even bothered to close in the stairwell, leaving wet streaks across the concrete floor.
Nadya hesitated for a second, then opened the door anyway. Out of sheer curiosity. What devil had brought this woman to her home six months after the divorce?
Antonina Petrovna swept into the hallway as if she owned the place. She smelled of expensive perfume with a bitter note and dampness. She quickly looked around the corridor, let her gaze linger on the child’s little boots, pursed her lips, and said:
“Well, hello, Nadezhda. You weren’t expecting me, I suppose.”
“I wasn’t,” Nadya answered dryly, not moving from where she stood. “Did something happen?”
Antonina Petrovna sighed heavily, as if she were about to announce tragic news, and walked into the living room without being invited. She placed the bag on the floor and sat down on the sofa, straightening her skirt. Alisa lifted her head from her notebook and looked at her grandmother in surprise. In six months, the woman had not called even once.
“Alisa, sweetheart, go to your room,” Nadya asked, trying to keep her voice even. “Grandma and I need to talk.”
The girl obediently gathered her notebooks and left, closing the door firmly behind her. Antonina Petrovna followed her with her eyes and, wasting no time on long introductions, laid a stack of papers on the table.
“I’ve come to you on business, Nadyusha,” she began, almost affectionately. “Forgive me for coming without calling. The situation is such that I simply cannot endure it anymore.”
Nadya remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
“Our Vadik has found himself in a difficult situation. There isn’t enough money. Kristina, you know, she’s a young girl, she has needs. She wants this, then she wants that. They’re renting a nice apartment. Plus Vadim still has that loan hanging over him, from your time together. He has to pay for the car too. In short, this month he won’t be able to transfer the child support. Please try to understand.”
Nadya blinked. Then she slowly asked:
“What?”
Antonina Petrovna rolled her eyes as if she were speaking to a foolish child.
“Why are you saying ‘what’ right away? You’re not deaf, are you? I’m saying there will be no child support this month. Vadik is going through a difficult period. Kristina needs a fur coat. Winter is coming. And in general, my boy is living with a young wife, building a new family. They need it more right now. And you are a grown, independent woman. You work. You’ll somehow survive one month without his handouts.”
Something inside Nadya dropped, then immediately boiled up in a hot wave. She looked at this elderly woman with her neat hairstyle and gold earrings and could not believe her ears. Vadim had left for his mistress. He had abandoned her with a child. For six months, she had been carrying her daughter, her job, and the household alone. And now his mother, who had never helped with a single coin or a kind word, had come to ask her to give up child support for the sake of a fur coat for his new wife?
“Antonina Petrovna, do you hear yourself?” Nadya’s voice sounded low, but there was already steel ringing in it. “Your son left for a younger woman? Then go running to her for money. Don’t come to me.”
Her mother-in-law flushed. The familiar mask of goodwill fell away instantly. She leaned forward and almost spat:
“How dare you? I came to her, by the way, as if she were family. I thought she would understand, show some sympathy. But you! You were always cold-hearted, Nadezhda. Vadik was right to leave you. It’s impossible to talk to you. You snake!”
“Have you said everything?” Nadya nodded toward the door. “Then leave. And take your papers with you.”
Antonina Petrovna jumped up from the sofa, grabbed her bag, and stormed into the hallway with a crash. At the door, she turned around and threw back:
“You’ll regret this! Do you think I don’t know how to put you in your place? You’ll cry yet, girl!”
The slam of the door sounded like a gunshot. Nadya leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding somewhere in her throat. Alisa quietly came out of her room. She did not ask anything. She simply hugged her mother around the waist and pressed her cheek against her. Nadya stroked her hair and whispered:
“Don’t be afraid, bunny. We’ll manage.”
That night, Nadya could not fall asleep for a long time. She lay in the darkness and remembered. Seven years of family life, which Antonina Petrovna had turned into a nightmare methodically and consistently.
In the first years, everything had been more or less tolerable. Her mother-in-law visited their home often, but at least she warned them beforehand. Then the phone calls to Vadim began, demanding that he report on their purchases. Antonina Petrovna demanded photos of receipts. She needed to know where Nadya was spending her son’s money.
“She is robbing you,” her mother-in-law hissed into the phone, and Vadim obediently nodded, forgetting that Nadya worked just as much as he did and contributed no less to the family budget.
When Alisa was born, things only got worse. Antonina Petrovna criticized everything: the way she was fed, the diapers, the color of the stroller, the child’s name. She demanded that the girl be named Antonina. That was the first time Nadya showed character and refused to give in. She and Vadim had chosen the name together. Back then, he had still been able to make independent decisions.
Her mother-in-law did not forgive her. She began systematically turning her son against his wife.
“Look at her. She has let herself go after giving birth. Wandering around in an old robe. What did you ever see in her? She used to be somewhat decent-looking.”
“Why is she sitting at home? On maternity leave? As if that’s work. You slave away like a damned man, and she paints her nails.”
“She is cheating on you. Yesterday I saw her talking to some man near the entrance and smiling. She is definitely cheating.”
Nadya found out about these conversations by accident. Vadim would lose his temper, shout, and then, after cooling down, repeat his mother’s revelations. He believed them himself. Antonina Petrovna knew how to brainwash people masterfully.
The breaking point came in April. Vadim came home late, smelling of someone else’s perfume. Nadya said nothing. A week later, he stated it openly:
“I met someone else. Kristina. We love each other. I’m filing for divorce.”
Nadya had gone numb then. She simply stood in the kitchen and stared at one spot. Vadim shifted from one foot to the other and added:
“Mom says we need to separate in a civilized way. Without scandals. You won’t stand in the way of my happiness, will you? Besides, it’s your own fault. You couldn’t keep the family together.”
Just like that. She could not keep it together. A month later, they were already divorced. They divided the property fairly: he got a new life; she got the old apartment and their daughter.
The morning after her former mother-in-law’s visit, Nadya called the only person she trusted. Veronika, her university friend, worked as a family lawyer. They met in a small coffee shop not far from Veronika’s office.
Veronika listened while stirring her cappuccino, her eyebrows rising higher and higher with every passing minute. When Nadya finished and caught her breath, her friend gave a low whistle.
“What a circus. In ten years of practice, I’ve heard a lot, but for a mother-in-law to come and ask someone not to pay child support for a child because of the mistress’s fur coat… That’s a new genre. Art.”
“What should I do?” Nadya asked quietly. “I don’t want any more humiliation. She threatened me. She said she would find a way to deal with me.”
Veronika pushed her cup aside and looked at her friend seriously.
“Remember one simple thing. Antonina Petrovna is nothing to you. Legally, she is a complete zero. She has no rights to make demands and no grounds for claims. Your ex-husband is the one obligated to pay child support. Only him. If he doesn’t pay, that is his debt, not your problem. You are the injured party here. The child has the right to support from both parents. Period.”
“And if he really doesn’t pay?”
Veronika smirked.
“There are several scenarios. First, bailiffs. You open enforcement proceedings, and they freeze his accounts. All of them. Down to the last kopeck. Second, penalties. For each day of delay, a fine is accrued. In six months, the amount of the debt can grow several times over. Third, administrative liability. Fourth, criminal liability. If he maliciously avoids payment, he can be charged under Article 157 of the Criminal Code. That includes compulsory labor and arrest for up to three months.”
“Criminal liability?” Nadya shook her head in disbelief. “Is that real?”
“Absolutely. I had three such cases last year. All three of them ran to the ATM faster than I finished my morning coffee. No one wants a criminal record. Especially men like your Vadim. Mama’s boys look especially pathetic in handcuffs.”
Nadya fell silent. Yesterday’s scene rose before her eyes again: her mother-in-law with the bag, the papers on the table, the demanding tone. And those final words: “You’ll regret this.”
“I feel like she is planning something,” Nadya said. “She didn’t come for nothing. She was testing the ground. Checking my reaction.”
“Very possible,” Veronika nodded. “That’s why I advise you to get ahead of them. Don’t wait until they come up with some new nastiness. Go on the offensive. First, check where Vadim is getting the money for his new life. If he is paying for a rental apartment, buying fur coats, and driving a car, then he has income. And most likely, he is hiding it.”
“How can that be checked?”
“I’ll help you with that. I know a lawyer. Arkady Viktorovich. A specialist in divorce proceedings. He cracks cases like this like sunflower seeds. Make an appointment for a consultation. You’ll spend an hour, but you’ll know your real options.”
Nadya wrote down the phone number and address. When she left the coffee shop, the weather had already cleared. The clouds had parted, and a timid October sun was breaking through. Suddenly, she felt a strange lightness. For the first time in a long while, the situation no longer seemed hopeless. She had support. Knowledge. A plan.
Two days later, she was sitting in the spacious office of the lawyer. Arkady Viktorovich turned out to be a dry, elderly man wearing glasses with thin gold frames. He spoke briefly, but every word hit the mark. Nadya laid out all the documents before him: the court decision on child support, her calculations, and correspondence with her ex-husband, where he had promised for the hundredth time to “pay next week.”
The lawyer looked through the papers, made a few notes in his notebook, and said:
“The picture is clear. Three months of arrears. The principal debt is around two hundred forty thousand. Plus penalties. If everything is calculated correctly, we can recover an amount through the court that will approach half a million.”
“He doesn’t have that kind of money. Officially, he earns pennies.”
“Officially, yes.” The lawyer adjusted his glasses and, for the first time, allowed himself a slight smile. “And unofficially? We will make requests. We will pull account activity. Even if he receives his salary in an envelope, there are always traces. Renting an apartment costs money. Credit cards, store purchases, car payments. If expenses significantly exceed declared income, that raises questions. The court does not like such things. The tax inspectorate begins to have questions. And that is where completely different problems begin. Not only family ones, but administrative ones as well.”
“What should I do right now?”
“Right now, observe. Don’t tell anyone anything yet. Let your ex-husband and his mother think you gave up and swallowed the insult. Meanwhile, we will quietly gather evidence. We’ll request statements. We’ll see who this Kristina girl is and what money she lives on.”
Nadya nodded. This advice fully matched what Veronika had said. No haste. Cold calculation.
After leaving the lawyer’s office, she felt an unprecedented surge of determination. At home, Alisa was waiting for her, along with homework and everyday concerns. But now a new thread had woven itself into her usual routine. Thin, but strong, like a steel string. The anticipation of retribution.
The next two weeks were spent gathering information. Nadya acted carefully, trying not to reveal her intentions in any way. Vadim called her only once, warning in a dry tone that he had no money yet, but that it would definitely come soon. She did not argue, and that seemed to calm him.
Antonina Petrovna did not appear either. Apparently, she was reporting to her son about her failed mission and waiting for the daughter-in-law to go into hysterics. Nadya remained silent, and that silence deceptively resembled surrender.
Meanwhile, Veronika, through her channels, helped obtain the first information. One evening, after Alisa had already gone to bed, her friend sent a message asking her to call urgently. Nadya dialed the number.
“Are you sitting down?” Veronika’s voice sounded excited. “I found something interesting.”
“Tell me.”
“Remember you told me Kristina bragged about a new position? Supposedly she got a job as a marketer at a company in the capital?”
“Yes, there was something like that. Vadim said she made a lot of money.”
“Well, she is no marketer. She hasn’t worked at all since March. She quit her last job. Officially, she is unemployed. But over the past six months, she bought a car. Used, but still not free. And, attention, in August she flew abroad with her girlfriends. For a week. Judging by the photos on social media, which she apparently doesn’t think she needs to hide, she had quite a nice vacation.”
Nadya slowly sank onto a chair. Numbers clicked in her head. Her daughter had asked for new winter boots, and she counted every kopeck. Her ex-husband was giving his mistress trips abroad.
“Where did the money come from?” she whispered.
“That’s the most interesting part. I pulled a few strings. I won’t go into the details, but I managed to find out that Vadim changed jobs six months ago. He got a job at a freight transport company owned by some distant relative. Officially, he is on minimum wage. In reality, he receives a very decent amount in cash. That explains the rental apartment in a good neighborhood, the trips, and the fur coats.”
“He has another salary, and he is hiding it from the court,” Nadya said slowly, more to herself than to her friend.
“Exactly. And that is a serious violation. Concealing income in order to avoid paying child support. If the statement is filed properly, criminal liability is already looming. Arkady Viktorovich will be delighted. He loves cases like this.”
Nadya said goodbye and placed the phone on the table. The apartment was quiet. Only the refrigerator hummed softly in the kitchen, and somewhere behind the wall, the neighbors were watching television. She sat in the darkness and looked at the streetlamp outside the window. Its yellow light blurred across the wet glass. Something inside her shifted. Not anger. No. Cold, fierce determination. She was no longer the victim. She was the hunter.
The next day, Nadya met with the lawyer again. On the table before Arkady Viktorovich lay printed photos from Kristina’s social media: the beach, the pool, a smiling girl with a glass in her hand. Beside them were screenshots of car sale listings linked to the account of her ex-husband’s mistress. And the statements that Veronika had somehow managed to obtain.
“This is enough,” the lawyer said curtly. “We are filing a claim. Child support arrears, penalties, plus a demand to establish the real amount of income. I will prepare the statement in three days. We’ll schedule the court hearing no earlier than a month from now, so the respondent has less time to prepare. And separately, I advise filing a statement with the tax inspectorate. Let them check where an unemployed girl got the money for expensive toys.”
“Will they check?”
“They are required to. An anonymous report, but with evidence attached. A substantiated one. Such things are rarely ignored. Especially now, when tax evasion controls have been tightened.”
Nadya signed the documents and the power of attorney, then stepped out onto the street. It was November. A cold wind drove withered leaves along the sidewalk. She raised the collar of her coat and slowly walked toward the metro. In her bag lay a folder with copies of the claim. There was also a flash drive with Kristina’s photos. Vacation pictures where the girl posed against the ocean, and in the background, someone’s male hand could be seen. The hand of Nadya’s ex-husband, who “couldn’t pay child support” because he supposedly had no money.
Suddenly, she remembered how Alisa had come down with the flu the previous year. Her fever had climbed close to forty, and Nadya had to call an ambulance. Vadim had supposedly been on a business trip then and had not even called back. Nadya had spent the night in the hospital, holding her hot, burning daughter close. And he, as it turned out later, had not been working at all. He had been relaxing with Kristina at a country resort. Her mother-in-law had even reproached Nadya afterward: “You can’t even protect your child, and you call yourself a mother.”
These memories no longer hurt. They only cemented her resolve more firmly. She would no longer allow these people to trample on her life.
The claim was accepted. A hearing date was set.
Vadim found out about the court case a week before the hearing. The summons must have arrived. Nadya expected a call. And it came. That evening, while she was putting Alisa to bed, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She stepped into the corridor and raised the phone to her ear.
“Nadya, what are you doing?” Vadim’s voice trembled with outrage. “Have you completely lost your mind? Why did you file a lawsuit?”
“Because you are not paying child support,” she answered evenly.
“I explained it to you! I’m having temporary difficulties. One month. Just one month. Is it really so hard to wait?”
“I don’t have your difficulties. I have your daughter, who needs food, clothes, and medicine. Your mother came to my home and asked me to free you from your obligations for the sake of a fur coat for your new woman. Do you consider that normal?”
There was a pause on the line. Apparently, Antonina Petrovna had not reported the details of her visit to her son.
“Mom didn’t mean it like that. You twisted everything, as always! You always twist everything. It’s impossible to talk to you.”
“Vadim, there is one week left before court. My lawyer has prepared the documents. Your income, your spending, Kristina’s trips, the car, the vacation abroad. All of it will be presented to the court. If you want to resolve the matter peacefully, pay the debt in full. With penalties. Before the hearing.”
“Are you threatening me?” he almost shouted. “You, the one who destroyed our marriage, are now trying to destroy my new family? Are you jealous? Jealous that I’m happy while you sit alone in your dump? Do you think that if you hurt me, you’ll become happier? You won’t!”
“Before the court date,” Nadya repeated and ended the call.
Her hands were trembling. But her heart was calm. She had done everything right. Now the law would speak.
The hearing took place on Wednesday at two in the afternoon.
The courtroom was small, stuffy, and somewhat shabby. Tall windows, wooden benches, pale green walls. Nadya arrived fifteen minutes early with Arkady Viktorovich. The lawyer looked unshakable, leafing through some papers while giving her final instructions:
“Speak only when you are asked. Do not react to provocations. If your mother-in-law or the respondent starts being rude, stay silent. I will speak for you.”
Vadim appeared a minute later. Beside him, holding his arm, walked Antonina Petrovna. Kristina had also deigned to appear. She had dressed as if she were going to a dinner party: a short dress, high heels, bright makeup. Her former mother-in-law looked Nadya up and down, muttered something through her teeth, and demonstratively sat down on a bench at the far end of the room.
The clerk announced the court. The judge, a woman of about forty-five with a tired face and a sharp gaze, took her seat. The hearing began.
Nadya’s lawyer spoke first. He spoke quietly, but every word carried weight. He laid out the facts. The principal amount of the debt. The timeframes. The penalty. The calculation of fines. Then he moved on to evidence of concealed income. Statements. Social media photos. Copies of car sale listings linked to the account of the respondent’s new wife. Evidence of foreign trips.
The judge frowned as she studied the documents.
Then Vadim stood. His lawyer, a young and clearly inexperienced man, tried to insist that the respondent’s income had not been confirmed, that the car had been bought with Kristina’s parents’ money, and that the trip had been a gift from a friend. But each of his arguments shattered against follow-up questions. The judge asked:
“Can you document the source of the funds used to purchase the car? Is there a gift agreement? Receipts?”
Vadim’s lawyer faltered. There were no receipts.
“The respondent’s income information,” the judge continued, flipping through the papers, “indicates that his official salary is almost four times lower than his monthly expenses. How do you explain that?”
“The respondent is using savings.” The lawyer’s voice sounded uncertain.
“Savings that are not reflected in any account,” Arkady Viktorovich countered. “I ask that a bank certificate confirming the absence of deposits be added to the case.”
The judge nodded in agreement.
The final straw was Antonina Petrovna’s speech. She asked to speak, and after a pause, the judge allowed it.
“Your Honor,” the mother-in-law began in a sweet, syrupy voice, “this woman ruined my son. She has always been greedy and vindictive. All she wants is money. She does not even let him see the child! And the boy simply wants to build a new life. He is young and handsome. He needs freedom. And this one”—she waved her hand toward Nadya—“is sucking him dry. I ask you to understand the situation.”
The judge removed her glasses and looked at Antonina Petrovna with a long, heavy gaze.
“Madam, are you finished? The court is considering a case of evasion of child support payments. Your opinion of the plaintiff’s personal qualities has no bearing on the subject of these proceedings. Please sit down.”
Antonina Petrovna turned crimson and wanted to object, but her lawyer whispered something in her ear, and she, pursing her lips, sank back onto the bench. Kristina sat pale and furious. She clearly had not expected such a turn.
The judge announced a short recess, then read out the decision.
“The claims are to be partially satisfied. The respondent is ordered to pay the child support arrears in full, as well as the penalty for each day of delay. The total amount to be paid is four hundred eighty-seven thousand rubles. The court also obligates the respondent to provide accurate information about his income and refers the case materials to the tax inspectorate for verification of possible income concealment.”
Vadim’s jaw dropped. He stood there, unable to believe what he had heard. Kristina grabbed his sleeve and hissed:
“Four hundred eighty-seven thousand? You said we would handle everything. You said she wouldn’t dare!”
Antonina Petrovna turned as pale as a sheet. She looked at Nadya with such hatred that it seemed the air in the room had grown hot.
Nadya silently gathered her papers, thanked the lawyer, and stepped out into the corridor. She did not look back. She knew: this was not the end. The real storm was only beginning.
The storm broke that same evening, but not at Nadya’s place. Somewhere entirely different.
Kristina returned home first. She threw her keys onto the small table and, without taking off her coat, walked into the living room. Rage was boiling inside her. Four hundred eighty-seven thousand. Plus a tax inspection. Plus humiliation in court. And for what? To sit in a stuffy courtroom and listen to his mother ramble nonsense about a greedy ex-wife?
Half an hour later, Vadim and Antonina Petrovna entered the apartment. His mother was holding his arm and saying something excitedly:
“We’ll file an appeal. This is illegal. I’ll call Semyon Arkadyevich; he’s an old lawyer, he’ll help. Don’t worry, my boy. We’ll beat them. That snake will regret this yet.”
Kristina stood in the living room doorway with her arms crossed. Her face no longer expressed devotion or love. Only cold irritation.
“Enough,” she said sharply.
Antonina Petrovna stopped short.
“What do you mean, ‘enough’?” she asked, lowering her tone.
“Enough of this talk about snakes and appeals. Your son owes almost half a million. Do you understand what kind of amount that is? I don’t have that kind of money. We don’t have that kind of money. Did you hear what the judge said in court? A tax inspection. If they find out where the money for my car and the trip came from, I will have major problems. The last thing I need is fines too.”
“Sweetheart,” Antonina Petrovna began, trying to take control of the situation, “don’t get so upset. We’ll settle everything. We’ll sell the car, borrow from acquaintances. But the main thing is not to let that filth win. You love Vadik, don’t you?”
Kristina narrowed her eyes. Something hard flashed in them.
“Love? I love a peaceful life. And your son dragged me into court and made me look like a complete fool. You promised me there would be no problems with his ex-wife. You said she was a quiet gray mouse who wouldn’t dare say a word against anyone. And where is that mouse now? She ground us into dust. And you’re standing here telling me about some appeal.”
Vadim, who had been silent until then, stepped forward.
“Kristina, listen…”
“No, you listen.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You promised me a normal life. But instead, you owe your ex-wife money, your mother meddles in our affairs, and now the tax office is going to dig through my income. I don’t need this. I have a head on my shoulders. And you know what? I am not going to pay your debts. They are your problems. You created them, so you can clean them up.”
“But we’re family,” Vadim muttered in confusion.
“Family?” Kristina laughed bitterly. “What family? You can’t even earn enough so that your own daughter doesn’t have to count pennies. Do you think I want a husband like that?”
Antonina Petrovna stepped out from behind her son, red blotches spreading across her face.
“You ungrateful girl! Vadik and I did so much for you! Paid for the apartment, gave you a car, those foolish resorts! And now you turn up your nose? Do you think you’ll find someone better? Who needs you with your character?”
“Paid for the apartment?” Kristina was no longer restraining herself. “You whined for six months that there was no money. We took the car on credit. And by the way, it is in my name. As for the resort, I arranged that myself. Your son only promised to pay back half and never did. So you didn’t give me anything. Except problems up to my neck.”
She turned sharply, went to the closet, and took out a travel bag.
“That’s it. Conversation over. Vadim, by tomorrow evening, I don’t want a trace of you here. I’ll pack your things and put them in the corridor. The apartment is rented, and the lease is in my name. I have no money left to pay rent. You can go back to your mommy. I’m going to my parents.”
“Kristina, don’t be stupid,” Vadim turned pale. “We love each other. Let’s just sit down calmly and discuss this.”
“There is nothing to discuss. You are bankrupt. You have debts and lawsuits. Your mother is a crazy old woman who thinks everyone around her is guilty. And I want to live peacefully. Without hysterics and inspections. Leave.”
Antonina Petrovna clutched her heart and collapsed into an armchair, but her theatrical gesture touched no one. Kristina silently went into the bedroom and locked the door. Vadim remained standing in the middle of the living room. He stared at the closed door and could not believe that everything was collapsing so quickly and so irreversibly.
Antonina Petrovna quietly wailed in the armchair, lamenting the injustice of the world and the black ingratitude of young people. Her son slowly sank onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands. A ringing silence hung in the apartment. The same kind of silence as in court, when the judge had read the verdict.
That same night, Kristina, lying in the bedroom, called her mother. The conversation was brief but meaningful.
“Mom, come tomorrow morning. Help me pack.”
“What happened?”
“I’m leaving Vadim. He turned out to be worthless. Debts, child support, the tax office. I don’t need this.”
“And the apartment? You were renting it.”
“The lease is in my name. I warned the landlady. I’m moving out tomorrow. I’m kicking Vadim out. Let him crawl back to his mommy. She’s the smartest one, isn’t she? Let her support him now.”
“And the car?”
“The car is in my name. The loan is too. But I’ll sell it. And honestly, Mom, you know what? I deliberately put all the property in my name. You taught me that. Vadim is such a fool that he didn’t even read what he signed. So I’m not losing anything.”
“Good girl. That’s right. No need to go down because of someone else’s stupidity. Come home. Your father will be glad.”
The next day, Vadim returned from work earlier than usual and found his things neatly packed in two large bags in the corridor. The apartment keys were no longer in his pocket. Kristina had taken them that morning. The bedroom door was wide open. Empty hangers swung pitifully in the closet.
He called Kristina. She rejected the call. He called again. Silence. Then he dialed his mother’s number.
“Mom, she kicked me out.”
Antonina Petrovna, forgetting about yesterday’s heart attack, began cursing Kristina with every insult she could think of, then declared:
“You see? I told you. All women are the same. Except mothers. Come home. Your room is exactly as it was. You’ll stay here for now. Then we’ll think of something. I’ll deal with those filthy women yet. Both Nadka and that Kristina of yours. They’ll dance to my tune.”
Vadim hung up, grabbed the bags, and stepped onto the stairwell. The door shut behind him with a dull metallic clang. He stood in the half-dark entrance and felt the ground slipping out from under his feet. The life that had seemed bright and promising only yesterday had now shrunk to two dusty bags in a shabby corridor.
Six months passed.
Nadya stood by the window in her kitchen and looked out into the courtyard. Spring was coming into its own timidly but stubbornly. The snow had melted, exposing last year’s gray grass, but here and there the first dandelions were already breaking through. The sun was shining brightly and warmly. Alisa was racing around the yard with her friends, laughing loudly and swinging her jump rope.
The money from Vadim arrived two months after the trial. First one part landed in her account, then the second. How he had found it, Nadya did not know and did not want to know. Maybe he sold something, borrowed from acquaintances, or took out a bank loan at a predatory interest rate. It no longer concerned her. The lawyer had done his job. The bailiffs had worked efficiently. The child support for the next month came on the exact day, as if on schedule. There were no more delays.
Antonina Petrovna disappeared from the horizon. Only once did Nadya accidentally see her in a shopping center. Her former mother-in-law was standing at an ATM, nervously pressing buttons and angrily shaking her purse. She looked older and somewhat worn out. Either the dye had faded from her hair, or her wrinkles had become more noticeable. She lifted her head, met Nadya’s eyes, and immediately turned away, pretending not to recognize her. Nadya did not approach. She simply walked past, lightly pushing a grocery cart in front of her.
That same evening, Veronika called.
“Can you imagine? Have you heard the news?”
“No. What news?”
“I ran into a mutual acquaintance of ours at court, a clerk from the office. She told me that the tax inspection of Kristina ended with a large fine and additional charges. They pinned everything on her: unpaid taxes on income and some violations in her declarations. In the end, her parents had to sell their dacha to pay off the debts. That’s how it is. The good times don’t last forever.”
“I almost feel sorry for her,” Nadya said quietly.
“You shouldn’t. She knew what she was doing. She knew the man had a child, that he wasn’t paying child support, and still dragged him around resorts and demanded fur coats. So let her reap what she sowed. Justice exists.”
Nadya said goodbye and put down the phone.
She poured herself some tea, sat at the table, and absentmindedly flipped through yesterday’s newspaper. The kitchen was quiet. Outside the window, dusk was falling. The doorbell rang.
Nadya flinched. Since recent events, an evening ring at the door had caused her a persistent feeling of anxiety. She went to the peephole and froze.
Vadim was standing on the threshold.
He was alone. Without his mother. Without Kristina. Just a man in a wrinkled jacket, with a gaunt face and three days’ worth of stubble. In his hands, he held some kind of paper bag. He looked guilty and pleading at the same time.
Nadya opened the door, but did not step back into the hallway. She stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance.
“Hello,” Vadim said quietly. “May I come in?”
“Why?”
“To talk. I brought Alisa a gift. A small one. I really want to see her. Please.”
“Alisa is already asleep,” Nadya lied. “What did you want to say?”
Vadim shifted awkwardly, moving the bag from one hand to the other.
“Nadya, I want to come back. I’ve understood everything. I was a fool. Mom confused me, Kristina used me. I lost my head. But now I’ve realized. You are the only one who truly loved me. Let’s try again. We have a daughter. We are a family. I’ll change. I give you my word. I’ll work, I’ll help. Just give me a chance.”
Nadya listened without interrupting him. She looked at this man whom she had once loved so intensely that it made her tremble, and she felt nothing. Only fatigue. And a slight disgust.
“Vadim, you are too late,” she said quietly but firmly. “That train has left. You made your choice back then, a year and a half ago. I am not your backup runway. I am not the airfield you return to when your wings have been broken. Leave. Leave the gift; I’ll give it to Alisa from you. But don’t come here again yourself.”
She took the bag from his weakened fingers, stepped back, and closed the door.
Behind the door, there was heavy breathing. Then footsteps. Then silence.
Nadya returned to the kitchen, placed the bag on the windowsill, and picked up her cup of tea again. The tea had almost gone cold.
She took a sip and thought that tomorrow she would need to pay the utility bills, sign her daughter up for dance classes, and buy new spring boots. There was a lot to do. Life went on.
And two blocks away from her home, in a small bank branch, Antonina Petrovna was standing at that very same time. She nervously twisted a receipt in her hands. Behind the glass, a young cashier sat patiently waiting while the elderly woman counted crumpled bills.
“You still owe four hundred thirty-two rubles,” the cashier repeated. “This is the next payment on your son’s loan. Will you be paying in cash or by card?”
“Cash,” Antonina Petrovna muttered and began rummaging through her wallet.
She took out her last money, placed it in the tray, and grumbled under her breath, but loudly enough to be heard:
“Soon it’ll be pension day. Look what life has come to. My son is drowning in debts, his former wife is a viper, and that little flirt Kristina turned out to be a swindler. Now I’m the one who has to clean up everything alone. And why? Because good people can’t give any decent advice. Nothing but malice everywhere.”
The cashier, taking the bills, could not help herself and quietly, almost to herself, said:
“Well. Maybe next time he’ll think before leaving his family.”
Antonina Petrovna snapped her head up, ready to burst into an angry tirade, but the cashier had already turned back to her monitor and was tapping on the keys. The line behind the former mother-in-law rumbled with irritation. The woman grabbed her purse and, crimson with indignation, headed toward the exit. The bank doors closed behind her, cutting her off from the warmth and light.
Outside, the rain was beginning again.
