“In a week… Well, if we drop the price a bit, buyers will be found. One million three hundred, and we close the deal in three days. Do you agree?”
Olga agreed. There was nothing to lose.
The realtor turned out to be a woman of her word. Two days later she called: there is a buyer, a young family, they want to build. A day later, Olga sat at the notary’s office, signing documents. The money was transferred to her account the same day.
Now she had more than two million. A sum that seemed unrealistic just a week ago.
That evening, Olga sat with Marina in the kitchen, and they discussed what to do next.
“You can rent an apartment,” Marina suggested. “With this money, you can find a decent one-bedroom, and there will still be enough left to live on.”
“I thought about it,” Olga slowly stirred her tea. “But renting… It’s throwing money away. Paying someone and having nothing yourself.”
“So what do you propose?”
“Buy something of my own,” Olga looked up. “Small, modest, but my own. So no one can kick me out. So it would be mine.”
Marina nodded.
“A sound thought. Only in the city, for this amount, you’ll only buy a room. Or some studio on the outskirts.”
“What about outside the city?” Olga took out her phone, started scrolling through ads. “Look, here’s a cottage for sale. Fifty square meters, six acres of land. Exactly two million. Yasnaya Polyana village, half an hour by commuter train from the city.”
Marina moved closer, looked at the photos. A small one-story house with an attic, covered with siding. A neat fence, a front garden with apple trees. A porch with carved railings.
“Beautiful,” she admitted. “But you’ll be alone there. Aren’t you scared?”
“No,” Olga said firmly. “Not scared. I’m tired of being afraid.”
The next morning they went to see the house. The owner, an elderly woman with a kind face, met them at the gate.
“Come in, come in,” she invited. “The house is good, sturdy. My husband and I built it thirty years ago. Lived, raised children. But now my husband has died, children have moved away, it’s hard for me alone here. So I decided to sell, move to my daughter in the city.”
She led them through the house. Two rooms on the first floor, a kitchen, a bathroom. Upstairs, in the attic, another room — bright, with a skylight. Furniture old but sturdy. A stove in the living room, a gas boiler for heating. Everything works, everything is in order.
Olga went out onto the porch, looked around. Quiet. Only birds singing in the garden and a dog barking somewhere far away could be heard. The air was fresh, smelling of grass and apples. So unlike their stuffy apartment in the city center, where traffic always roared outside the window and drunk neighbors shouted.
“I’ll take it,” Olga said, turning to the owner.
She smiled.
“And rightly so. A good place for a new life.”
The deal was processed quickly, in three days. Olga transferred money, signed papers, received keys. And there she stood by her house. Her own! With keys in her hands, and she couldn’t believe it was all true.
Marina helped her move her things. There weren’t many: one bag and a couple of boxes of books. Together they washed windows, wiped dust, made the bed with fresh linens. By evening, the house already looked lived-in.
“Well, mistress of the house,” Marina hugged Olga by the shoulders, “satisfied?”
Olga nodded. Yes, she was satisfied. For the first time in many months, she felt calm. Protected. She had her own house, her own money, her own life. Igor failed to break her. On the contrary, he pushed her to finally believe in herself.
In the evening, when Marina left, Olga sat on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, and drank tea. Twilight descended over the village, lights came on in the windows of neighboring houses. Somewhere very close a stream murmured. Quiet, calm, good.
Olga took out her phone, dialed the number of the lawyer Marina had recommended. The phone was picked up after the third ring.
“Hello, Viktor Petrovich? Good evening. My name is Olga Chernova. I need a consultation on divorce.”
The lawyer’s voice was calm, professional. He listened to her story, asked a few questions. Yes, he has time to meet tomorrow. Yes, he will take the case. No, it won’t be difficult: property is divided by law, the apartment belongs to the husband, the house belongs to her, there should be no claims.
“We’ll prepare a statement of claim, file it in court,” said Viktor Petrovich. “Given your situation, the divorce will go quickly. In two or three months you’ll be free…”
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