Husband Filed for Divorce, but a Month Later He Regretted His Decision. His Ex-Wife’s Reaction Surprised Everyone
Elena wiped the edge of the table for the third time that morning. The phone remained silent, even though Olya had promised to call. Outside the window, rain was falling, tapping monotonously against the windowsill in a strangely soothing rhythm.
“Lena, can’t you hear me?” Sergey stood in the kitchen doorway with an unusually serious expression on his face.
“Huh? Sorry, I was lost in thought. What did you say?”
“I said I’m leaving you,” he repeated, folding his arms across his chest.
Elena blinked. Then blinked again. The cloth slipped from her hand.
“What do you mean… leaving?”
“Exactly what I said. Divorce. I’m tired, you understand? Thirty-six years together. I feel suffocated. I want to live for myself.”
Elena stood motionless. Her thoughts were tangled. Just like that? On an ordinary Tuesday, somewhere between breakfast and lunch?
“Did you… meet someone?”
“No. I’m just tired of it all. The same thing every day. Work, home, work. I’m not an old man yet, Lena! I want freedom.”
Sergey spoke loudly, as though he were trying to convince not only her, but himself as well. Elena slowly lowered herself into a chair. Thirty-six years. Olya. Their grandchildren. And now it was all ending because he was “tired of it”?
“Why are you silent? Say something already!” Sergey frowned.
“What is there to say?” Elena picked the cloth up from the floor. “If you’ve decided, then go.”
“That’s it?” He looked surprised. “You’re not going to cry? Beg me to stay?”
Elena shrugged.
“What for? Could I stop you if you really wanted to leave?”
Sergey rubbed the back of his head. He had clearly expected a different reaction.
“I’ll pack my things today and… well… move out.”
“Where will you go?”
“To Vitka’s for now. He has a spare couch.”
The door slammed shut. Elena remained alone in the kitchen. Then the phone rang. It was Olya.
“Hi, Mom! How are you two doing?”
“Fine,” Elena replied evenly. “Your father is leaving me.”
“What?!” Olya shouted so loudly that Elena had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Has he completely lost his mind? I’m coming over right now!”
“No need, sweetheart. You’re at work.”
“What work?! Mom, how are you?”
Elena paused, trying to understand her own feelings.
“You know… I feel empty somehow. But it doesn’t hurt. Strange, isn’t it?”
“He’ll come back,” Olya said confidently. “Where else is he going to go? Dad won’t last a week without you.”
Sergey packed his belongings methodically—shirts separately, trousers separately. Elena stood in the bedroom doorway.
“Maybe you should eat before you leave? There’s some borscht left from yesterday.”
“No, I’ll eat at Vitka’s,” Sergey muttered, stuffing socks into his bag.
The doorbell rang. Tamara stood outside holding a jar of jam.
“Lena, I made cherry preserves. Try some!” She stopped when she noticed the bags in the hallway. “What’s this?”
“Sergey, I’ll let Tamara in,” Elena called, then stepped onto the landing and partly closed the door behind her.
“What’s going on in there?” Tamara whispered.
“Sergey is leaving me. Divorce.”
“What?!” Tamara clutched her chest. “Has he gone completely crazy?”
“He says he wants freedom.”
“Freedom?! At sixty-one?!” Tamara threw up her hands. “Lena, stay strong. I’m with you.”
Sergey emerged carrying two bags and nodded at the neighbor.
“Hello, Tamara Petrovna.”
“Hello to you too,” she answered coldly. “A late-life crisis, is it?”
“Tam, don’t,” Elena asked quietly.
Sergey pressed his lips together.
“I left the keys on the cabinet. I’ll call… once I get settled.”
He walked downstairs. Elena didn’t call after him or burst into tears. She simply watched her husband leave. Thirty-six years together, and the ending was so ordinary.
“Come over to my place,” Tamara said, taking her hand. “We’ll have some tea.”
“I can’t right now. I need to think.”
“What is there to think about? Your Sergey is a fool! He’ll get over this nonsense and come back.”
“And what if I don’t want him to come back?” Elena suddenly asked.
Tamara stared at her wide-eyed.
“Are you serious?”
Elena smiled, confused but somehow unexpectedly light.
“I don’t know yet. I never imagined I’d live alone. But now… maybe I’ll try.”
During the first week, Elena woke up every morning thinking Sergey had gone to work. Then she would remember—no, he had left. Forever. Or perhaps not forever. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel.
The phone rang constantly. Olya, Tamara, mutual friends. Everyone asked the same thing.
“How are you, Mom?” Olya asked, holding a mug of tea. “Maybe you should move in with us? Being alone must be hard.”
“Why would you think that?” Elena asked while arranging cups. “Actually… it’s easier.”
“Easier?” Olya blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Before, I was constantly thinking about what Sergey would say, what I should cook for him, whether I was making too much noise while he rested.”
“And now?”
“Now I listen to music whenever I want. I eat whatever I like. Yesterday I got up at one in the morning and cooked dumplings.”
Olya smiled.
“Dumplings in the middle of the night? You?”
“I felt like it.” Elena shrugged. “And nobody complained that I was making noise with the dishes.”
The phone rang. “Sergey” appeared on the screen.
“Are you going to answer?” Olya tensed.
Elena hesitated, then picked up.
“Yes, Sergey.”
“Hi, Lena. How are you doing?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Okay, I guess,” he hesitated. “Vitka snores. It’s impossible to sleep. And… listen… did I leave my blue sweater at your place?”
“Yes. Do you want to pick it up?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay. And I left some tools there too. Can I stop by?”
“Sure,” Elena replied simply.
Olya shook her head after Elena ended the call.
“You’re too kind, Mom. He left you, and you’re saying, ‘Sure, come over.’”
“What should I do? Throw his things away? Why?”
“You’re not even angry!”
“You know,” Elena said thoughtfully, “I’m tired of being angry. My whole life I worried about someone, rescued someone, took care of someone. Now… I just want peace.”
The door flew open and Tamara burst into the apartment.
“Lena! I bought the tickets!” She waved an envelope. “For the concert!”
“What concert?” Elena looked confused.
“What do you mean? Have you forgotten? Pesnyary! We always dreamed of seeing them!”
“Oh.” Elena smiled. “Right.”
“A tourist group from our building is going,” Tamara rattled on. “There’s a bus, an excursion. We’re going away for two days!”
“What do you mean?” Elena froze. “I can’t leave for two days.”
“Why not?” Tamara planted her hands on her hips. “What’s keeping you here?”
Elena opened her mouth, then closed it.
Really—what was keeping her there?
“You’re right.”
“Mom!” Olya brightened. “Go! It’s about time! How many times did Dad go fishing alone? And you were always sitting at home…”
Elena took the ticket, and for some reason her hands trembled.
“Yes. I’ll go. Why not?”
Sergey came over on Sunday. He rang the bell and shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“Hi,” he said, looking rumpled. “Can I come in?”
“Come in,” Elena replied. “Your sweater is in the wardrobe. The tools are in the storage room.”
Sergey nodded but didn’t move.
“How are you?”
“Good. You?”
“Fine.” He avoided her eyes. “Listen, Lena… I need to use the washing machine. Vitka’s broke down, and I can’t keep going to the laundromat.”
“If you want, you can wash your clothes here.”
“Really?” He immediately perked up. “I’ll be quick.”
Elena nodded and went into the kitchen. Sergey made noise in the bathroom while starting the machine. Then he came into the kitchen and sat opposite her.
“Lena, is there anything for dinner? I haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday.”
Without saying anything, she took out a pot of soup and warmed it up.
“Any bread?”
Elena put some bread on the table and sat across from him. She watched him eat quickly and greedily, as though he hadn’t been the one who had left her three weeks earlier.
“Delicious,” he said with his mouth full. “I missed your cooking.”
“Sergey, I’m leaving on Wednesday,” Elena suddenly said.
“Where?” He nearly choked.
“To a concert. With Tamara and the tour group. For two days.”
“What do you mean, you’re leaving? Alone?”
Elena smiled.
“Who else would I go with?”
Sergey stared at her as though he were seeing her for the first time.
“But you… you’ve never gone anywhere without me.”
“Before, no,” Elena agreed. “But now I will.”
“And with whom? That… Tamara?” he said with a grimace.
“Yes. Tamara and ten other neighbors.”
Sergey put down his spoon.
“Lena, are you having fun here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well… I leave you, and you start going to concerts!”
Elena narrowed her eyes.
“What am I supposed to do? Cry?”
“No, but…” He hesitated. “I thought this would be hard for you.”
“It is hard. And easy at the same time. It’s difficult to explain.”
The washing machine beeped. The cycle was finished.
“Will you hang the clothes yourself?” Elena asked.
“Uh… yes, of course.”
Sergey went into the bathroom. Elena looked at the half-eaten soup and the bread crumbs. Before, she would immediately have cleaned everything up. Now, for some reason, she didn’t feel like it.
“I hung everything up,” Sergey said when he returned. “Can I pick it up this evening?”
“Whatever you want.”
He lingered beside the table.
“Lena, maybe we should talk?”
“About what?”
“About… us. About what happens next.”
“What happens next?” She shrugged. “You left. I’m moving on with my life.”
“Yes, but…” He faltered. “I miss you.”
Elena looked at him calmly.
“Sergey, you left three weeks ago. You said you were tired, suffocating, that you wanted freedom. I didn’t stop you. Now you miss me?”
“I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“What did you think it would be like?”
Sergey didn’t answer.
Elena sighed.
“You know, I miss things too. Sometimes. I miss what we used to have. But do you know what I realized?”
“What?”
“That everything changed gradually. You used to ask how my day had gone. You cared about what I thought. But during the last few years… how many times did you get angry over nothing? How many times did you shout because I supposedly cooked the cutlets wrong?”
“I didn’t shout…”
“You did, Sergey. And I was afraid of upsetting you. I was constantly adjusting myself to suit you.”
He remained silent. Cars passed outside, and somewhere in the distance a child was crying.
“I should go,” he finally said.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll come back for my things tonight. And Lena…”
“What?”
“Be careful at that concert.”
Elena smiled.
“Don’t worry. I’ll survive.”
He left.
Elena sat in the kitchen for a long time. Then she called Tamara.
“Tam, listen. What should we take with us to the concert?”
“Elena Nikolaevna?” Tamara laughed. “Is that really you? I thought you’d already changed your mind!”
“No, I’m going. I… want to.”
That evening Olya came over to help her mother pack.
“Mom, take your new dress! The blue one. It looks beautiful on you.”
“Why? It’s just a concert.”
“So what?” Olya pulled the dress from the wardrobe. “You look wonderful in it!”
“Sweetheart, I’m almost sixty.”
“So what?” Olya shook her head stubbornly. “Age is just a number.”
Elena laughed.
“All right, I’ll pack it. Just in case.”
The doorbell rang. Olya opened the door and found her father standing there.
“Dad? Why are you here?”
“To pick up my things.” He held a bag of food. “Lena, I bought a rotisserie chicken. Shall we have dinner?”
Olya glanced questioningly at her mother. Elena froze for a second.
“Thank you, Sergey, but we have other plans. Olya and I are going to the movies.”
“The movies?” He looked confused.
“Yep,” Olya quickly added. “There’s a new comedy.”
“Oh… all right.” Sergey looked completely taken aback. “Then I’ll just take my things and go.”
After he left, Olya whistled.
“Mom, did you see his face? He’s shocked!”
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t immediately rush to feed him! You’re divorcing him, and he shows up here carrying a chicken!”
“We’re not divorced yet. We’ve only filed the papers.”
“Still!” Olya paced the room. “You know, I never understood before. I thought you two were like everybody else, just an ordinary family. But now I see it… Dad didn’t appreciate you at all.”
Elena sighed.
“Sweetheart, it’s not that simple. We lived together for thirty-six years. There were good times too.”
“But do you regret it?”
Elena looked out of the window. The evening sun covered the rooftops in golden light.
“No. Strange, isn’t it? I thought it would hurt more. But I feel… peaceful.”
Olya hugged her mother.
“You’re doing great, Mom. Get ready for your concert. And we’re going to the movies too.”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
The bus pulled away from the building at eight in the morning. Elena sat beside the window while Tamara chatted endlessly next to her.
“Lena, can you believe Sergey went to see Zinka? He was asking where we were going and when we’d be back!”
“Why would he care?” Elena asked in surprise.
“Isn’t it obvious? He’s frightened that he’s going to lose you completely.”
Elena shook her head.
“Don’t make things up. He’s just bored.”
“Sure, bored!” Tamara snorted. “He called three times. Then he interrogated your Vitka, asking whether you’d found another man.”
“Another man?” Elena laughed. “At my age?”
“What’s wrong with your age? Margarita Petrovna got married at seventy!”
Elena turned toward the window. Trees, houses and people flashed past outside. It felt strange. She hadn’t really noticed any of this for years. She had stayed home, waited for her husband and cooked dinners.
Tamara tugged at her sleeve.
“Look! Your admirer is coming!”
A gray-haired man holding a thermos was walking down the aisle.
“Ladies, would you like some tea?” he asked with a smile. “I brought some with me.”
“With pleasure!” Tamara winked at Elena. “I’m Tamara, and this is Lena.”
“Very nice to meet you.” The man held out his hand. “Mikhail.”
They drank tea and talked about music. Mikhail turned out to have been a fan of Pesnyary for forty years. Elena listened to his stories and smiled.
That evening at the concert, she put on the blue dress.
Tamara whistled.
“Wow, Lenochka! You look beautiful!”
Mikhail sat next to her. When “Vologda” began playing, he quietly sang along and occasionally glanced at Elena.
And suddenly she realized that she was having fun.
Really having fun.
For the first time in many years.
They returned home two days later.
Sergey was standing outside the entrance.
“So you finally showed up,” he grumbled instead of saying hello. “I called you. You didn’t answer.”
“There was no signal,” Elena replied calmly. “Did something happen?”
“No, I just… worried.”
Tamara cleared her throat meaningfully and hurried into the building.
Elena headed toward the door.
“I’m tired, Sergey. We’ll talk later.”
“Listen.” He grabbed her arm. “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should try again? I’ll come home. We’ll start over.”
Elena looked at him for a long moment.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? We’re husband and wife!”
“You left because you felt suffocated. What has changed?”
“I realized I made a mistake!” His voice rose. “Lena, stop this nonsense already. How long are you going to keep this up?”
She gently pulled her arm free.
“Sergey, I’m grateful to you for all the years we spent together. But now I want to live for myself for a while. Just like you wanted to.”
“Lena…”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s no need to persuade me. This will be better for both of us.”
Elena went upstairs to her apartment.
It was quiet and peaceful inside.
She put the kettle on and took a small souvenir from her bag—a little wooden bird she had bought during the trip.
The phone rang.
Olya.
“Mom, how was the trip?”
“Wonderful.” Elena smiled. “You know, I even sang along with Pesnyary!”
“You?!” Olya laughed. “I don’t believe you!”
“And I danced. And I met some interesting people.”
“Mom, that’s wonderful. I’m proud of you.”
Sergey called several more times. He came over and asked her to take him back. Eventually, he stopped.
Elena signed up for English classes and began going to the swimming pool. On weekends, she and Olya went to the country house, where Elena enjoyed tending to the flowers, something she had always loved doing.
One morning she stood on the balcony watering her geraniums when the phone rang.
It was Mikhail.
They had kept in touch since the concert and had even met for coffee a couple of times.
“Hi, Lena! Remember that art exhibition I told you about? It opens today. Would you like to come with me?”
Elena smiled as she looked at the flowers.
“I’d love to, Misha.”
She put down the watering can and thought about how strange life could be.
She had feared loneliness her entire life.
But it turned out that loneliness was not the end at all.
It was only a beginning.
The beginning of a life in which she finally got to make her own decisions.