Olya listened to it and deleted it. She blocked her mother-in-law’s number, then Kirill’s. She went to bed.
In the morning, she went to a law office and filed for divorce. The lawyer nodded approvingly:
— You did everything right. He has no claim to the property.
— And if he tries?
— You have proof that the apartment was bought before the marriage with your money. Plus, the text messages about their intention to seize the property. He won’t get anything.
Olya exhaled.
The following weeks passed in a strange feeling of emptiness. The apartment seemed huge and quiet. There was no need to cook breakfast for anyone, listen to complaints, or transfer money. Olya went to work, came home, read books. Sometimes she met up with Ira.
— How are you? — her friend would ask.
— Good. Really, good.
— Do you miss him?
It was the truth. She didn’t miss him. She felt a sense of relief, as if she had taken off a heavy backpack after a long climb up a mountain.
Kirill tried to get in touch through mutual acquaintances. He asked to talk, to resolve things like human beings. Olya refused. The divorce was finalized in his absence; he didn’t even show up for the hearing…
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