Marina stood frozen in the kitchen, her mind struggling to process her husband’s words. What Sasha had said felt unreal, as if she were stuck in a bad dream. His casual tone, filled with disregard, made her feel as though her entire world had been turned upside down. The car she had been saving for, sacrificing for over the past six months—her dream—was suddenly being treated like some trivial possession.
“Why do you even need that car? You can’t drive. Let’s sell it, pay off my debts, and take a vacation to Turkey. What’s the problem?” Sasha continued, reclining in his chair as if they were having a simple, inconsequential conversation. The ease with which he dismissed her hard work, her aspirations, left her speechless.
Marina’s face flushed with rage. Her blood boiled in a way she had never felt before. How could he be so thoughtless? It wasn’t just the suggestion to sell her car—it was the fact that he was treating her dream as nothing more than a bargaining chip for his debts and desire for a vacation. This wasn’t just an inconvenience. It felt like an invasion into the very heart of her life, something she had worked tirelessly for and had every right to keep.
She set her coffee cup down, her fingers trembling from the mix of fury and disbelief. A lump formed in her throat, the sting of betrayal nearly choking her. And the worst part wasn’t that he’d rejected her dream. It was the casual, offhand way he dismissed everything she’d worked for, as though it didn’t matter in comparison to his whims.
“Sasha, are you being serious right now?” Marina asked quietly, struggling to keep her voice steady. “You really think I’ll sell my car to pay your debts? After everything I’ve done to save for it, working multiple jobs to get the down payment?”
She stared at him, silently hoping for some sign of remorse, some acknowledgment of his thoughtlessness. But Sasha simply shrugged and scowled as if she were being overly dramatic.
“There you go again!” he snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. “What, am I not working? You think I’m just sitting around? You don’t know what it’s like to work twelve hours a day on that construction site, while you’re here making soups! And now you want to guilt-trip me?”
Marina’s blood ran cold. “Working?” she scoffed. Sasha barely dragged himself to work on time and was known for leaving early, whenever he felt like it. His days were filled with drinking and hanging out with his friends, while Marina took on the heavy lifting to keep their lives afloat. She worked herself to the bone while he wasted time and money on frivolous distractions.
Her anger surged. How much longer would she put up with this? How much longer would she keep carrying the weight of their life together, with no respect or appreciation from him? The thought of continuing down this path made her feel suffocated. Maybe now was the time to say “enough.”
Taking a deep breath, Marina fought back the urge to shout. She wouldn’t stoop to insults or a shouting match. No. She would stand her ground. She had the right to stand up for herself, to protect her dreams, to live her own life. She wasn’t going to let him trample on her hopes anymore.
With a calm that she didn’t even know she had, Marina squared her shoulders and looked Sasha in the eye.
“You listen to me, Alexander,” she said slowly, her voice unwavering. “You can do whatever you want, but I am not giving up my dream for you. I’m not selling my car. I’m not going on vacation with you. If you want a vacation, then you figure out how to pay for it yourself. I don’t need your handouts. I’ll manage on my own, thank you.”
The room fell silent. Sasha stared at her, stunned. He couldn’t seem to grasp what she had just said, as though his wife had suddenly turned into a completely different person. When realization hit, his face turned red with anger, and he sneered.
“You’ve lost it, haven’t you?” he hissed, leaning forward. “Who do you think you are? Acting like you’re all independent now? You frigid bitch. You don’t want to cook, you don’t want to please your husband—well, I’ll knock some sense into you. We’re going to sell that car, and you won’t say a word. Get dressed, you hysterical fool.”
With that, he grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him. The shock of his touch was enough to make her dizzy. Then, without warning, his fist connected with her cheekbone, sending her head snapping to the side.
For a moment, Marina was frozen, stunned by the brutality. Her head throbbed, her vision blurred, but something inside her snapped into focus. She had crossed the line—there was no going back. She could either accept this, accept the abuse, and lose herself forever—or she could walk away, once and for all.
With a sudden clarity, Marina made her decision. No more. She wouldn’t let this man destroy her. She wasn’t going to waste another minute in this toxic marriage. Her self-respect, her dream, they mattered too much.
She wiped away the tears that stung her eyes, her voice cold and steady.
“Take your hands off me, you bastard,” she said, her tone sharp. “If you lay another finger on me, I’ll make sure you regret it. I’ll go to prison with a clear conscience.”
Her words hit Sasha like a slap. For the first time, he saw something he wasn’t prepared for: strength. Real strength. And he recoiled. He had always seen her as someone to control, someone to keep under his thumb. Now, he saw her as someone who could stand up for herself—and he couldn’t handle it.
“You’re crazy!” he stammered, stepping back, his face pale. “I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing,” Marina cut him off, her tone unwavering. “You’re afraid of me. You only bully people who are weaker than you. Well, I’m not weak, and I can protect myself.”
She took a step back, never taking her eyes off him. With one final look, she opened the door. The hinges squeaked as if in protest, but she didn’t care.
“Here’s the deal, Sasha,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “If you want me to stay, you’ll do things my way. I won’t ask for much. Just that you respect me. That you never lay a hand on me again. And that you handle your own debts. If you can do that, fine. Nod. If not, then get out. I’m done with this.”
Sasha stood there, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes were wide with panic. He could see it now—the consequences of his actions. He might be losing everything.
“Marina, please,” he begged, his voice desperate. “I didn’t mean it. I’ll change. I swear, I’ll never touch your car. Don’t leave me. I’ll do better, I promise!”
The disgust Marina felt was overwhelming. For years, she had believed in this man. She had given him everything, but now, she was done.
“No, Sasha,” she said, her voice low and final. “I’m leaving. And I’m not coming back. You can change, but I won’t be here to see it. I’ll pack my things, and then I’m gone. If you ever lay a hand on me again, it will be the last time.”
Without another word, Marina turned, grabbing a bag from the bedroom, and began to pack. Each movement was decisive, deliberate. When she was done, she didn’t look back. She walked out, leaving him standing in the kitchen, a broken man.
The cool autumn air hit her as she stepped outside. The world felt different—brighter. She was free, finally. No more lies, no more abuse. She had her life to live, and it was hers to shape.
As she slid into her old car, she ran her hand over its dusty surface. “We’ve got this,” she whispered to it. “Together, we’ll get through this.”
With a roar of the engine, she sped away, leaving her old life—and her old self—behind. There was no turning back now. Only forward, toward the life she deserved.
And as the city disappeared in the rearview mirror, Marina smiled to herself. She had made the choice to be free—and she was never going back.