Inna stood by the window, watching raindrops race down the glass, tracing random paths like tiny rivers. Seventeen years together — was that a lifetime or just a fleeting moment? She recalled every shared day, every smile, every disappointment. And now, everything was falling apart like a fragile card tower.
“We need to talk,” Alexey’s voice broke the silence, heavy and lifeless.
Slowly, she turned to face him. His eyes held a strange mixture of resolve and regret — the look of a man who had made up his mind.
“I’m leaving you, Inna. For Natasha.”
Silence swallowed the room, interrupted only by the ticking of the old clock that once belonged to his mother.
“To the student from your department?” Her voice was steady, calm despite the storm inside.
“Yes. My feelings are gone. I want something new, something exciting. You’re intelligent, you should understand.”
A bitter smile curled her lips. “Smart,” he always used that word when he wanted his way.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly, and said no more.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “I’ve packed.”
She nodded faintly, then walked to the cabinet and pulled out a special bottle they’d saved for an occasion just like this.
“Well then,” she said as she uncorked it, “let’s celebrate. Invite your friends and family. Seventeen years deserve a proper farewell.”
Confused, Alexey blinked. “You want a party for our divorce?”
“Why not?” Inna smiled, something cold and final in her eyes. “Let’s say goodbye in style. After all, I am the smart one, remember?”
She started texting swiftly. “Tomorrow at seven. I’ll cook your favorites. Consider it my parting gift.”
Alexey stood dumbfounded, expecting tears or anger, but not this quiet acceptance.
“Oh, and tell Natasha she’s invited too. I want to meet the woman who reignited the flame I couldn’t.”
The next day began with purpose. Inna called banks, met with lawyers, and organized papers with surgical precision.
By evening, their spacious apartment was fragrant with rich dishes. She set the table carefully, placing the fine china gifted by her mother-in-law.
“Everything must be perfect,” she whispered.
Guests arrived promptly. His parents came first. His mother, Vera Pavlovna, hugged Inna awkwardly.
“Innochka, maybe there’s hope still?”
“No, Mama. Sometimes love means letting go.”
Friends filtered in until Alexey and Natasha arrived last.
“Welcome. Tonight, you’re the guests of honor,” Inna said, gesturing to the head of the table.
Raising her glass, she addressed them all.
“Friends, we gather today to close one chapter and begin another.”
Turning to Alexey, she continued,
“Seventeen years, Lesha. The highs and lows, laughter and tears — thank you. You taught me love takes many forms.”
A hush fell. Natasha avoided eye contact.
“And you also taught me to mind the details,” Inna said, pulling out thick envelopes.
She spread out documents — loans in their joint names, unpaid taxes from his company, receipts from lavish dinners and jewelry. “Trying to impress Natasha, were you?”
Alexey paled. Natasha looked up sharply.
“The best part,” Inna smiled sadly, holding the prenuptial agreement, “you signed it without reading. It has a clause about property division for infidelity.”
The room grew still as if time froze.
“The house is mine,” Inna declared. “Accounts frozen. Divorce papers filed.”
She faced Natasha.
“Are you sure you want to be with a man buried in debts and lies?”
Frozen, Natasha fled.
His mother shook her head.
“Lesha, how could you?”
“I don’t understand…” he started, but his father cut him off.
“Seventeen years isn’t nothing. What did you trade it for? A fling with a student?”
Friends murmured, avoiding his gaze. Only Mikhail, his oldest friend, said quietly,
“You’ve really messed up.”
Inna gathered her papers.
“A month ago, I could’ve raged. Broken your car, torn your clothes, ruined your career.”
“But instead,” she revealed a plane ticket, “I chose freedom. Tomorrow, Maldives — a dream you always called foolish.”
She laid car keys on the table.
“The apartment sells by week’s end. Accounts frozen until court decides.”
Alexey looked lost.
“What now?”
“Not my problem,” she said, grabbing her coat. “Funny thing — you woke me up. Life doesn’t end with you.”
She paused at the door.
“Goodbye, Lesha. Hope it was worth it.”
The door closed softly behind her. Alone amid empty plates and half-finished wine, Alexey listened as her car engine started. Rain tapped the window once more — the same rain as that fateful night. But this time, no one watched the patterns on the glass.