Galina stood by the window, watching the November courtyard. It wasn’t that it was raining—it was more like it was pouring endlessly, as if the sky could no longer hold itself back. Drops of water slid down the glass, merging into uneven streaks, then disappearing into nothingness.
She was not crying.She just stood there.And tried to comprehend the one sentence that had split her life in two an hour earlier.— I’m tired, Galya. Do you understand? I’m tired of everything — Viktor said, as if that explained it all. As if thirty-seven years of shared life could be swept off the table in a single gesture.
And then came the sentence:— I want to live separately. For myself.“For myself.”That got stuck in Galya’s throat like a splinter that couldn’t be swallowed.She was standing in the kitchen, the ladle still in her hand. The soup was boiling, but she could no longer smell it.
Viktor was sitting at the table. Leaning back, avoiding her gaze. Gray hair, stubble, a worn-out T-shirt. Sixty-two years old, the last of which had been filled more with excuses than plans.— Separately? — Galya asked quietly. — You want a divorce?
— No, no — Viktor waved his hand. — I just need some space. Freedom. You know.Freedom.What kind of freedom does a man need who hasn’t worked for years while his wife supports him?Galya turned off the gas. Her appetite disappeared with it.
— And how do you imagine this?Viktor suddenly became enthusiastic.— I looked at an apartment in the northern district. Not expensive. Twenty-five thousand.Galya laughed, but there was no joy in it.— Twenty-five thousand? You have no income.
— But you work — Viktor said, as if it were the most natural thing. — You earn seventy thousand. You’ll help. We’re family.And then something quietly broke inside her.— So you want to live separately… with my money?— Don’t put it like that! — he was offended. — It’s normal. We stay together, just live separately.
The TV turned on, as it always did, as it had for twenty years.Galya went to the window.The rain only intensified.The next day Viktor was already looking at apartments.— Perfect! — he said happily. — Only fifty thousand for moving in.
— Fifty thousand… — Galya repeated. — That’s half my salary.— It’s a one-time thing!And Galya, although she didn’t want to, paid.Viktor didn’t really thank her.During the move, he took the armchair, the TV, and even the suitcases.— Don’t be mad — he said. — This is better for both of us.
After that, the apartment became empty.And cold.And чужо (alien).Then came the message:“Thank you for helping, my dear.”My dear.After thirty-seven years she became “dear” — when money was needed.At first he wrote every day.
Then he asked every day.Repairs, medicine, food.Galya transferred money.People at her workplace noticed.— Galya Petrovna, are you okay?— I’m just tired.But she wasn’t just tired.At home, her phone became heavier and heavier.
— Mom, this isn’t normal — her son said. — He’s using you.That word stayed inside her.Using.She still defended him.Still believed this was family.Then Viktor took her blanket too.— You’ll buy another one.And then Galya felt, for the first time, pure, burning anger.
Not long after, she stopped answering calls.She set a boundary.Her friend said it outright:— This is abuse.Her son too:— Mom, he’s manipulating you.At the psychologist’s office, she finally said:— I’m ashamed.— And are you angry? — the psychologist asked.
— Yes.— Then you see reality.From that day, something changed.— I won’t send money anymore — she said for the first time.Viktor raged.Then he begged.Then he threatened.But the answer remained the same.No.One day Viktor appeared at her door.
— I have no money. I’m coming back.— No — Galya said.— But I’m your husband!— You wanted to live separately.Silence.— So I should end up on the street?— There is work. There is life.And Viktor left.This time, the balance of power shifted completely.
Galya didn’t collapse.She was freed.Three months later she started dancing tango.New people. New rhythm. New air.— I’m proud of you — her son said.— You’re finally living — her friend said.The psychologist only said:— This is the boundary.Viktor still called sometimes.
“Forgive me.”“Let’s start again.”But his voice no longer reached her.One day Galya traveled to the sea.Alone.And there she understood: she was not alone.She was with herself.The train moved south.And for the first time in her life, Galya was not afraid of what was coming.She was waiting for it.
