Tears stood in his eyes — I had never seen him like this.
«Give me a chance to prove it,» he whispered.
I closed my eyes, trying to sort through the whirlwind of feelings. Hurt, mistrust, exhaustion… but beneath it all— love, which isn’t so easily crossed out.
«Okay,» I nodded. «But under one condition.»
«Anything.»
«No secrets. No one-sided decisions. And your son… he has to understand that I’m not his enemy. But I’m not an ATM.»
«He’ll understand,» Andrei hugged me tighter. «I’ll do everything to make sure he understands.»
A month later, Lena and I were sitting in a café. My friend looked at me with curiosity.
«How are things? Did you make it through the crisis?»
I smiled.
«You know, strangely enough— yes. Andrei sold the car, took out a loan. Vasily got a job— not great, but at least it pays his share of the debt.»
«And do you believe him?» Lena raised an eyebrow skeptically.
«Andrei? Yes,» I thought for a moment. «You know, that situation changed something in him. It’s like he finally grew up. He stopped being just a father, and remembered he was also a husband.»
Lena shook her head.
«I would still be cautious if I were you. Men— they’re like that. Today one thing, tomorrow another.»
«Maybe,» I took a sip of my coffee. «But I feel like I made the right choice. Not just keeping the apartment, but keeping myself. My dignity.»
«And your relationship with Vasily? Is it better?»
«Let’s say— we’re moving in the right direction,» I allowed myself a slight smile. «He no longer sees me as the wicked stepmother who won’t let Daddy help his beloved son. And sometimes he even asks me for advice on work-related matters.»
Lena shook her head skeptically.
«Miracles do happen, then.»
«Not miracles,» I replied. «Sometimes you just need to reach the edge to see the truth. Andrei almost lost me— and that opened his eyes. And I… I realized that love isn’t just about compromises. Sometimes it’s about firmness and staying true to yourself.»
I went home— to my apartment, where Andrei was waiting for me. Our relationship hadn’t become what it once was— it had become something else. More mature, more honest. And who knows, maybe the storm that nearly destroyed our marriage actually strengthened its foundation.
I remembered my mother’s words: «The apartment is your protection.» She was right. But the protection wasn’t so much the property itself, but my ability to defend my right to it, to my own space, to respect.
And that was worth more than any money.
