— I did. You were in love, you didn’t listen.
Irina remembered. Yes, Sveta had indeed said something like that. But back then, Andrey seemed perfect to her: attentive, caring, romantic. When did all that disappear? In which year of their life together?
— Come visit us for New Year’s, — Sveta suggested. — Don’t sit alone. It’s noisy here, and your nephews miss you.
— I’ll see, — Irina replied evasively. — If I can get time off work.
On December 9th, there was another hearing. Andrey came again, again tried to talk about reconciliation. The judge listened to him, then looked at Irina.
— Has your decision changed?
— No.
— Is your final decision divorce?
— Yes.
— Very well. The marriage is dissolved. You will receive your divorce certificate in a month.
That was it. Eighteen years together ended with a single phrase from the judge. Irina stood up and walked out of the courtroom without looking back. Andrey remained seated, dejected, crushed.
It was snowing outside. Large flakes fell on her face, melting on her lips. Irina walked down the street and suddenly felt something strange. Not relief, not joy, but not grief either. A kind of emptiness, cleansing, bright. She was free. Officially, legally. Volkova Irina Petrovna, forty-three years old, a nurse, owner of a two-bedroom apartment, without a husband, without debts, without traitors by her side.
In mid-December, her lawyer called her.
— Irina Petrovna, good news. The criminal case against your ex-husband has concluded. He was found guilty of ‘Fraud,’ but considering mitigating circumstances, remorse, and active cooperation with the investigation, he was given three years of probation.
— Probation? — Irina was surprised. — So he won’t go to jail?
— He won’t. But he’ll be on probation for three years, any violation and the suspended sentence will be replaced with a real one. Plus, he was ordered to compensate the bank for damages, but that’s his problem now.
Irina hung up. Three years of probation. Andrey was free. Somewhere out there, in this city, he was walking, breathing, living. But that was no longer her concern. Not her problem. He no longer existed for her.
Before New Year’s, she decided to go to her sister’s after all. She took a week’s vacation, bought a train ticket.
On her last workday, December 30th, her colleagues had a small office party. They sat in the staff room, drank champagne, ate salads.
— Irishka, you’re holding up like a champ, — said the head nurse Galina Vasilyevna, a sturdy woman of pre-retirement age. — Not every woman could endure something like this.
— What else is there to do? Life goes on, — Irina shrugged.
— Exactly. And you know, I’ll tell you this: maybe it’s all for the best. You’re still young, beautiful. You’ll find yourself a good man who will appreciate you.
— I don’t know, Galina Vasilyevna. I’m not in the mood for anyone right now. It’s good to be alone.
— Don’t rush it. Let your soul rest. We’ll see what happens then.
On December 31st, Irina boarded the train. The car was half-empty, people had left earlier. She settled by the window, watching the lights of stations, snow-covered fields, and sparse villages flash by. She thought about the past year. So much had happened. The meeting with the old woman. The prediction. The Friday that turned her life upside down. The divorce. The loneliness.
But strangely, she felt no self-pity. There was gratitude. To that old woman who had warned her. To fate, which had saved her from catastrophe. To herself, for finding the strength to break ties with a traitor. The train sped through the night, and Irina looked out the window, where her face was reflected. Tired, but calm. Somehow serene.
She remembered the fortune teller’s words: “You are free now! Freed from a traitor.”
Yes! Free! And that was the most important thing.
Irina celebrated the New Year at her sister’s. Sveta lived in a “Khrushchevka” on the outskirts of the city with her husband Viktor and two children: Denis, fourteen, and Masha, eleven. The apartment was small and cramped, but cozy. It smelled of tangerines, pine, and something homemade and warm.
— Aunt Ira! — Masha rushed to hug her as soon as she crossed the threshold. — We’ve been waiting for you! Did you bring us presents?
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