“Katya, did Sasha already tell you?” Tamara Vladimirovna said cheerfully. “There will be about forty guests. We’ll start cooking the night before. I’ll come by around six in the evening.”
“At night?” Katya blinked. “Wait, I didn’t know about this.”
“I sent Sasha the grocery list already,” Tamara continued. “He said he’d take care of everything.”
Since childhood, Sasha had always helped his older sister Veronika. Life had brought her challenges — two marriages that hadn’t worked out — and their mother had made it clear: “You must support your sister.”
And Sasha tried to do just that. Whether it was helping with expenses, fixing things around her home, or assisting with moves, he always came through.
After he married Katya, things changed.
Katya had been patient. But when Veronika asked to borrow their car yet again, Katya gently spoke up.
“Sasha, I think we need to talk. We’ve used public transport all week while your sister had the car. My parents are expecting us this weekend… They’ve prepared fresh vegetables for us.”
“Veronika really needs it,” Sasha said hesitantly.
“She always does. But we do too,” Katya said kindly. “I’d appreciate it if we could take a turn.”
Sasha didn’t respond, but the next day the car was gone. Katya found out he’d gone to help Veronika with a trip out of town. She felt dismissed and deeply hurt.
When he returned two days later, she said softly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I just needed some space,” he said, avoiding eye contact.
The phone rang again. Sasha checked it. “It’s Veronika.”
“Hi, bro!” came her bright voice. “I’m turning thirty soon! Let’s celebrate at your place. It’s bigger. I’ve already told everyone.”
“Veronika,” Sasha said slowly, “that’s kind of short notice…”
“Come on! It’ll be fun. Mom’s already making the menu!”
Then came a message from Tamara: a full list of dishes, asking Katya to help prepare and shop.
When Sasha finally told Katya, she listened quietly.
“So… forty guests. In our apartment.”
“Just for the evening,” Sasha said. “Veronika’s place is too small. And Mom’s taking care of the food.”
Katya nodded. Her voice was calm.
“Did you check with me before agreeing?”
“It’s just family. It’ll be fine.”
Her phone buzzed. Tamara again.
“Katya,” she said, “I’ll be over at six the night before. We’ll start cooking that evening. Sasha has the list of groceries.”
“With all due respect,” Katya said gently, “I wasn’t informed about any of this. Hosting a large party involves planning and costs.”
“We’re one family,” Tamara replied. “This apartment is Sasha’s too.”
“And I’m his wife,” Katya said. “I would’ve appreciated being asked, not told.”
Tamara hung up. Sasha turned to her.
“Katya, you’re being too rigid. Why are you acting like this?”
“I’ve stayed quiet about many things,” she replied. “But this time, I need to draw a line. This is our home. Decisions should be made together.”
Later that evening, Katya packed two bags — one for Sasha and one for herself. Sasha looked confused.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m stepping away. This isn’t just about the party. It’s about respect, and whether we are true partners.”
“You’re overreacting…”
“I don’t think so. I think I’ve been *under*reacting for too long.”
Sasha stared at the door as it closed behind her.
Months later, the divorce proceedings were complete. It wasn’t easy, but it was civil. Sasha had tried to claim the car; Katya calmly presented the paperwork. The court divided everything fairly.
At his mother’s apartment, Sasha now slept on a fold-out bed in the living room. Tamara often voiced her frustration, but Sasha remained quiet.
Katya, meanwhile, rediscovered herself. She slept peacefully. She visited friends. She even started taking weekend road trips — in a car she’d saved for and bought herself.
She had no bitterness. Only a sense of calm.
Sometimes, the most meaningful celebrations are the ones that mark a new beginning — even if they start with saying goodbye.
