The Fall of a Narcissist: Alevtina’s Liberation
Alevtina stood in the doorway, quietly observing her husband as he fussed over his reflection in the mirror.
“Well, my beauty, what do you think? Impeccable as always, right?” Mikhail smirked, straightening his tie.
“Everything looks great,” she replied flatly.
Mikhail turned slightly, admiring himself from another angle. “Of course, I always look flawless. You know that as well as I do.”
“Of course,” she echoed, her lips barely curving into a smile. “Will you be home for dinner?”
“How could I not? I’m starving.”
Alevtina moved to the kitchen, retrieving hot meatballs and a fresh salad from the fridge. There was a time when she adored watching Mikhail eat, the way he devoured every bite, his clumsy spills even amusing. But now, those moments only left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“You’re not eating?” he asked, noticing her untouched plate.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, maybe that’s for the best,” he said casually, chewing loudly. “You should think about your figure. A leader needs a perfect family, and—” he paused, looking her up and down with disdain, “—well, a wife should be an asset, not a liability.”
Alevtina lowered her eyes, hiding the slight tremor in her fingers.
“By the way,” Mikhail continued, gulping down water, “I’ll be attending the New Year’s Eve party alone.”
“But you promised—this year, you swore you’d take me!”
“I’ll just say you’re sick. Honestly, it’s easier that way. Showing up with a klutz like you? Not exactly the image I want to project.”
Alevtina swallowed the lump in her throat and silently left the room. Thoughts swirled in her head. A leader? His so-called “team” consisted of three people, and they were only there because they were his friends. And as for his “flawless” appearance—had he even looked in the mirror? His once sharp features had softened, his body had thickened, and the arrogance in his eyes had only deepened.
Yet, she had remained silent. Not because she agreed with him, but because it didn’t matter—Mikhail never saw anyone but himself. Some people are like that: incurable narcissists. He was the perfect example. He truly believed in his own brilliance, his exclusivity.
Gazing out the window, she watched children playing in the snow. A sharp pang of sadness gripped her. She had always dreamed of a large family, but Mikhail had conveniently postponed it—first for career ambitions, then for financial concerns, then for no reason at all.
He expected unwavering support while he “hunted mammoths,” as he put it. She had sacrificed her own promising career, leaving behind a managerial position, all for the sake of their future together. But in the end, it was only Mikhail who benefited. He had the job, the prestige, the comfort of home. And she? She was reduced to endless housework, invisible and unappreciated.
Now, she worked remotely as an editor. It was dull, repetitive, but at least it paid. She had learned to endure the quiet suffocation of routine.
It took her a long time to realize that her refusal to challenge Mikhail had led to this. He didn’t see her as a partner—only as an extension of his life, a convenience, not a person. Certainly not someone he respected.
Then one night, she stumbled upon a novel. It was a story of a woman trapped in an unfulfilling marriage, lost in the shadow of a self-absorbed husband. She read it in one sitting, the words cutting deep. The heroine’s life was her own, mirrored so precisely that she barely noticed the grammar errors in the text.
The next morning, as she looked at Mikhail, something inside her shifted. The illusion shattered. She no longer saw the man she once adored. Instead, she saw the truth: a selfish, entitled man who took everything she had to give and never once thought to give back.
She had sacrificed for him. He had given her nothing but criticism. And now, she had had enough.
Secretly, she began applying for jobs. After a week, she landed an interview. The joy of opportunity quickly turned into nervous anticipation when she realized the position was at his company. Their paths would cross. Let them. She was done hiding.
The Turning Point
At the office, preparations for the New Year’s Eve party were in full swing. Mikhail, ever the peacock, relished the attention. Among the guests, he quickly noticed a new employee—a fresh face, an intriguing challenge. He didn’t take his flirtations seriously; he never did. After all, Alevtina would be waiting at home, ignorant or complacent.
When a colleague asked, “Mikha, bringing your wife to the party?” Mikhail scoffed.
“My wife? To an event like this? I go to enjoy myself, not to babysit.”
“Most people bring their partners…”
“Absurd. If she starts whining, I’ll remind her where she belongs.”
Little did he know, Alevtina was already there.
She had not only secured the job—she had secured the job. That night, when the moment came for the grand announcement, the room buzzed with anticipation. Mikhail smirked, ready to claim the title of department head.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the director began, “it’s time to introduce a remarkable individual, someone whose expertise and vision have already made a profound impact on our company. We are thrilled to welcome our new department head—Alevtina Sergeyevna Veselova!”
The room erupted in applause. Mikhail barely registered it. He sat frozen, staring at the woman in the elegant dress standing before him. She looked different. Confident. Radiant. Powerful.
“Mikha,” a colleague muttered, “you said you were coming alone. And now this?”
Mikhail ignored him, pushing through the crowd until he reached her in the corridor.
“How dare you come here? I told you to stay home!”
Alevtina met his gaze with unsettling calm.
“Mikhail, you no longer have the right to tell me what to do. I’m done being your obedient little wife. The game is over.”
“You think this scares me? Who do you think you are?”
She sighed, barely suppressing a smile.
“Misha, don’t embarrass yourself. I’m your boss now. And just so you know—I filed for divorce. You always wanted your freedom, didn’t you? Well, congratulations.”
She turned, casually signaling to the very same new employee he had set his sights on earlier. Together, they walked toward the bar, leaving him standing alone.
Mikhail clenched his fists, his mind racing. No. This wasn’t over.
He caught up with her just as she stepped outside. “Fine. You have your little job. But don’t forget, you still have responsibilities at home. You can’t handle both. Maybe find something easier?”
She looked at him, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“Personal matters can wait, Mikhail. Right now, I expect you to maintain subordination.”
He stood there, speechless, as she walked away.
That night, he sat by the window, waiting for her return. When he saw her boss pull up and walk her to the door, his stomach twisted.
For the first time, Mikhail realized—he had lost.
And this time, there was no fixing it.