Katya stopped in the doorway. She looked at him. He was smiling. A normal smile, nothing special. As if this morning never happened. As if he hadn’t been standing at the maternity hospital with Lena and their child, discussing how to kick Katya out of her own apartment.
“I wasn’t there,” Katya said evenly.
Andrey frowned.
“Why? Did something happen?”
“I felt sick on the way. My head started hurting. I decided to come home and rest. I’ll go tomorrow.”
“I see,” he nodded, losing interest in her, and went back to staring at the TV. “Is there anything for dinner?”
“I’ll make something now.”
Katya turned and went to the kitchen. She took chicken and vegetables out of the fridge. She started chopping, turned on the stove. Her hands moved automatically, her mind was on something else. The plan. Tomorrow she would meet with the security, sign the documents with the lawyer. Then she would call a locksmith, change the locks. And when Andrey came home from work in the evening, he wouldn’t be able to get into the apartment. His things would be standing by the door. And inside, behind the new lock, would be her. And a security guard, just in case. Katya stirred the vegetables in the pan. She smiled. A new life would begin tomorrow.
Katya woke up early, before her alarm. Andrey was sleeping beside her, snoring. She got up quietly, got dressed, and went to the kitchen. She made coffee, sat by the window. The city was waking up: a trolleybus drove down the street, someone was walking a dog below. Today everything would change.
At seven-thirty, Andrey came out of the bedroom, already dressed.
“I’m off,” he said, zipping up his jacket.
“Have a good day,” Katya didn’t look up from her cup.
The door slammed. She counted to one hundred, then got up and went to the window. Down below, Andrey was getting into his car. He started the engine, drove away.
Katya took out her phone, dialed the law firm’s number.
“Viktor Petrovich?”
“Good morning.”
“This is Katerina, I was at your office yesterday. Are the documents ready?”
“They’re ready. You can come by anytime.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
The next call was to the security agency.
“Yes, we remember. What time do you need the officer?”
“At six in the evening. I gave the address yesterday.”
“Noted. Our man, Dmitry, will be there. Experienced, reliable.”
Katya got dressed, grabbed her bag, and left. On the way, she stopped at an ATM, withdrew cash—she needed to pay the security and the locksmith. Then she went to the lawyer’s office.
Viktor Petrovich greeted her with a folder of documents.
“Everything is ready. The divorce petition, the eviction notice. You just need to sign. We’ll file with the court today.”
Katya took a pen, signed all the papers. Her hand didn’t tremble.
“Good,” said the lawyer, putting the documents away. “Now we wait for the summons. But be aware, while the process is ongoing, your husband may try to interfere, threaten, or pressure you. Be prepared.”
“I’m ready.”
“And one more thing. Change the locks today, don’t delay. The sooner, the better.”
Katya nodded.
She already had the number for the locksmith service, written down yesterday. She called right from the lawyer’s office.
“I can be there in two hours,” said the handyman. “What’s the address?”
…
“Got it. What kind of lock are we installing?”
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