— Technically, nothing. It’s his personal loan, taken out before he attempted to commit fraud. But since you are spouses, the bank has the right to claim jointly acquired property.
— We have no jointly acquired property. The apartment is mine, obtained before the marriage. There is no car. The furniture is old, worth pennies.
— Then the problem is solely your husband’s, — Kravtsov shrugged. — The bank will go to court, collect the debt from him personally. They may initiate bankruptcy proceedings.
— Do whatever you want. I have nothing to do with it.
Kravtsov nodded, finished his tea, and left. Irina remained sitting in the kitchen. A debt of two hundred thousand. Plus the debts to acquaintances, and he wanted to take another three million. For what? To pay off old debts? Or to lose again? She never understood gamblers. How could one risk money, a home, a family? How could one hope for luck instead of working, earning? Andrey had always been a bit frivolous, but to this extent…
In early November, a court summons arrived. A preliminary hearing for the divorce case. Irina arrived at the appointed time. Andrey was there too, sitting on a bench in the hallway. He had lost weight, looked haggard, his hair had turned completely gray. Seeing her, he jumped up.
— Ira, wait, let’s talk!
— There’s nothing to talk about. — She walked past him.
— Please, just listen to me! — He followed her. — I understand what I did. I know I betrayed you. But give me a chance to fix everything.
— How will you fix it? — Irina turned around. — Will you give me back eighteen years of my life? Give me back my trust?
— I’ll pay off all the debts. I’ll get a good job. I’ll quit gambling. I’ll change.
— How many times have I heard that? From alcoholics, from drug addicts, from gamblers. They all promise to change. Very few do.
— I’m not one of them, I… — He faltered.
— Who are you? — Irina asked harshly. — The one who wanted to leave me homeless. The one who forged documents. The one who lied to me for months.
He was silent, his head bowed.
— Andrey, listen to me carefully. — She stepped closer, looked him in the eyes. — What you did is unforgivable. You destroyed everything that was between us. I am no longer your wife. And I won’t be. Get over it.
— But I love you, — he whispered.
— No. You only love yourself. You love your gambling, your illusions that you’re about to get lucky. And I was just a source of money for you. An apartment that could be mortgaged…
— That’s not true!
— It is true. And the sooner you understand that, the better for you.
They were called into the courtroom. The judge, a middle-aged woman in a robe, examined the documents, asked a few questions.
— Respondent, do you agree to the dissolution of the marriage?
Andrey was silent. Then quietly:
— No. I am against it.
— State your reasons.
— I… I want to save my family. I want to make amends. I ask for a chance.
The judge looked at Irina.
— Plaintiff, do you insist on the divorce?
— Yes. Absolutely.
— Is there any possibility of reconciliation?
— No. None at all.
The judge nodded.
— The case is postponed for one month for a reconciliation period. The next hearing is scheduled for December 9th.
They left the courtroom. Andrey tried to approach her again, but Irina cut him off sharply:
— Don’t waste your time. In a month, it will be the same. I won’t change my mind.
At home, she sat on the sofa and closed her eyes. A one-month reconciliation period. A formality required by law. But for her, there would be no reconciliation. Never.
Another month passed. November was cold and snowy. Irina worked, came home, cooked dinner for one, watched TV. The loneliness stopped being oppressive; she got used to it. She even began to see its advantages: quiet, peace, no one to annoy or deceive her.
Her sister Sveta from another city called occasionally. Irina told her everything that had happened.
— I knew there was something wrong with that Andrey, — Sveta said. — Remember I told you about ten years ago: he’s kind of slippery. Unreliable.
— Why didn’t you tell me directly then?
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