“You’re not going to your mother’s funeral. I need the car,” her husband said. Vera stood up, took her bag, and left. Forever.
The phone went silent.
Vera stood in the middle of the kitchen, holding the phone tightly against her chest with both hands. Aunt Galya had spoken for exactly four minutes. Her voice was dry, matter-of-fact, almost unbelievably calm. Not a single tear trembled in it.
“Vera… your mother died an hour ago.”
That was all.
The world changed from one second to the next.
Her husband, Daniel, was sitting on the couch. The television was playing quietly in the background. He didn’t even turn around when Vera appeared in the doorway.
“Daniel… Aunt Galya called. Mom is dead.”
The man nodded.
He scrolled through something on his phone with his finger. Maybe the news, maybe messages. It no longer mattered.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Vera just stared at him.
“I have to go. Right now. It’s a two-hour drive. Give me the car keys.”
That was when Daniel put his phone down.
Not because he understood the seriousness of the situation.
But because he heard one word:
car.
He looked up at her with mild irritation on his face, as if Vera wasn’t talking about her mother’s death, but had asked him to help move a heavy cabinet.
“No. I need the car. My mother asked me to take her to Aunt Zina’s. I promised her last week.”
Vera didn’t move.
The kitchen light illuminated her back, while her face remained in shadow.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I heard. But she’s already dead. Where are you rushing off to? Take the bus tomorrow, you’ll get there. My mother is alive. She’s waiting for me. I gave her my word.”
One second.
Two.
Three.
“Are you seriously saying this?”
“Completely seriously. I’m not going to abandon my mother.”
Vera slowly walked into the living room. She stopped directly in front of the television. Daniel had no choice but to look up at her.
“I’m going to ask you for something once. Just once. Think about what you just said… and answer me again.”
“Vera, don’t make a scene. I already explained. My mother is waiting, I promised her. Do you want me to break my word?”
“I want you to remember who you live with. And I want you to understand what this day means to me.”
“I remember. But there’s an order to things. The living are more important.”
Vera slowly straightened up.
She looked at him as if she wasn’t arguing with him, but trying to memorize his face forever.
There was no hatred in her eyes.
Something much more final.
“Fine,” she said.
Her voice was calm.
It didn’t shake. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg.
Daniel didn’t even notice.
He was already reaching for the remote control.
Vera walked into the hallway.
She opened the top drawer of the cabinet. The one Daniel had never touched in seven years.
She took out the thick folder.
Inside were:
her passport,
the apartment ownership documents,
the car papers,
her bank documents.
Everything was in her name.
She put them into her bag.
She took both sets of car keys from the hook.
She put on her coat.
Tied her shoes.
“Where are you going?” Daniel shouted after her.
“To say goodbye to my mother.”
“With what? I told you I need the car!”
Vera opened the door.
Daniel was already standing in the hallway. Barefoot, holding the remote control, with a wounded expression on his face, like someone who couldn’t understand why the world wasn’t working according to his wishes.
“The car has always been in my name. The apartment too. When I come back, there will be a new lock on the door. I’ll pack your things. Either you take them, or I’ll throw them away.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m just finally speaking clearly.”
“Vera, stop! You can’t just do this…”
“Daniel. My mother died. And you told me that the car was more important because you wanted to take your own mother out for tea. That’s all I needed to hear. This is over between us.”
The door closed.
The lock clicked.
A minute later, Daniel saw from the window as Vera calmly got into the car.
She wasn’t in a hurry.
She didn’t look back.
She started the engine and drove away.
Daniel stood in the middle of the hallway.
He called Vera.
A long ring.
Nothing.
He texted her:
“Give me the car back. Have you lost your mind?”
She read the message.
No reply came.
Another message:
“Stop fooling around. My mother is waiting. I have to go.”
Read.
Silence.
Twenty minutes later, his mother called.
“Daniel, when are you coming to pick me up? Zina has already set the table.”
“Mom… there’s a problem. Vera took the car.”
“How did she take it? That’s our shared car!”
“On paper… it’s hers.”
“And? You’re her husband! Tell her to give it back!”
“She won’t answer.”
Daniel sat down on the couch.
He looked around the apartment.
Everything seemed exactly the same.
The furniture.
The curtains.
The shelves.
But Vera had taken away the three things everything had been built on:
the documents,
the keys,
and herself.
When his mother saw him arrive by taxi, she stopped at the door.
“Taxi? Seriously? Where is the car?”
“With Vera.”
“Then take it back!”
“She left with it.”
“Where?”
“Forever.”
The woman fell silent.
“What does ‘forever’ mean?”
“She left me. She said I have two days to take my things. She’s changing the locks.”
“Why?”
Daniel lowered his head.
“Because I told her not to go to her mother’s funeral. Because I needed the car.”
His mother slowly looked at him.
For the first time, there was no confusion on her face.
Only shock.
“Daniel… you really said that?”
“I didn’t think she would react like this.”
“Well, you should have thought! Her mother died, and you told her she could wait?”
“But you asked me to take you!”
“I asked you to take me. I didn’t ask you to stop your wife from attending her own mother’s funeral!”
The taxi moved slowly through the city.
The meter kept ticking.
Every number meant less money left for Daniel.
When they arrived at Aunt Zina’s house, the meter showed eight hundred rubles.
The same amount would be needed for the way back.
That was all he had left.
Maybe enough for food for one day.
Maybe.
His mother got out.
She turned around.
“And where will you go now?”
Daniel just stood there.
“To your place. If you’ll let me stay.”
The woman sighed.
“I only have one room and a kitchen. There’s a folding bed in the storage room.”
“That will do.”
She shook her head.
Went inside.
The door closed behind her.
Daniel remained standing on the street.
A few crumpled banknotes in his pocket.
Zero in his account.
And behind him, a city where not a single square meter belonged to him anymore.
He took out his phone.
Called Vera.
A long ring.
Then the automated voice:
“The person you are calling is currently unavailable.”
Daniel put the phone down.
He looked at his hands.
They were empty.
Just like his life.
Meanwhile, Vera stood in her mother’s room.
Aunt Galya was beside her.
The neighbors stood behind her.
Now she was doing what she had to do.
She said goodbye.
Because, to her, even the dead deserved respect.
Perhaps even more than the man who had lived beside her for seven years…
and still never understood who had been standing beside him.
