“You need to leave!” Viktor’s new fiancée stood at Irina’s doorstep with an outrageous demand. What follows is a tense clash between two women bound by the same man in this emotional confrontation.
Irina had just laid her daughter, Alice, down to sleep. She was moments away from sinking into the calm of her cozy home. The soft glow from the table lamp bathed the living room in warmth, casting gentle light over landscapes and photographs frozen in joy.
Then came the doorbell. Its familiar chime echoed through the quiet, announcing an unexpected guest.
“Well, that didn’t work out,” said the girl with irony in her voice as she went to open the door.
A short girl with short blonde hair and big brown eyes stood on the threshold. She looked attentively at the hostess, clearly deep in thought.
“What can I do for you?” Irina asked, frowning slightly.
“Oh, sorry,” the girl snapped out of her thoughts. “My name is Yana.”
“Nice to meet you,” replied the hostess, crossing her arms across her chest. “Are you here for a reason?”
“Yes, yes,” the girl repeated several times. “My name is Yana.”
“I gathered that,” Irina replied with a note of irritation in her voice.
“And you are Irina?” the guest asked uncertainly.
“Correct. So, what did you want?”
“Oh, you see,” the girl began cheerfully, “I am Viktor’s fiancée!”
Irina raised her eyebrows in surprise, her eyes widening at the unexpected news.
“My playboy has a new woman,” Irina thought, assessing Yana. “But what do I care who she is?”
“You see, I wanted to talk to you about my husband… oh, my fiancé,” Yana continued, nervously smiling.
“I doubt I can help you with anything; we’ve separated,” Irina responded dryly.
“Yes, I know. Viktor told me about it. Well, I didn’t come to argue!”
Irina chuckled to herself: “What’s there to argue about? I’m not his wife, and who you are, I really don’t care.”
“I would like to hear from you what he is like, my Viktor,” Yana said breathlessly.
“My Viktor?” This thought flashed through Irina’s mind. “He used to be mine, too…”
“Alright, come in,” Irina sighed.
She let the uninvited guest into the wide corridor. Irina herself was curious about how Viktor was doing. He hadn’t called her lately, only sending child support, and that was all.
Irina heated the kettle, brewed rose petals in a transparent teapot, placed two cups on a tray with some cookies, and carried everything into the living room.
Yana walked attentively along the walls, examining the paintings, bookshelves, and touching them. She was curious about everything.
“It’s beautiful here! Such a big room, high ceilings… And such huge windows, and a park! I’ve dreamed of such a house,” Yana exclaimed admiringly.
“So, what did you want to hear from me?” Irina inquired, placing the tray on the table.
“Yes, pretty much everything,” Yana replied and approached the door. “What’s in there?”
“Don’t open it!” Irina declared sharply. “My daughter is sleeping there.”
“Oh yes, Viktor told me he has a daughter. What’s her name?”
“Alice,” came the short reply.
“Right, Alice!” Yana turned and approached another door. Without asking Irina’s permission, she opened it and entered.
“Hey, where are you going?!” Irina exclaimed, annoyed, and ran after Yana.
“I want to see every room,” Yana replied carelessly.
“Listen, please close it and leave!”
“Why?” Yana protested. “After all, this is my house!”
“What?!” Irina couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
“Yes, this is my house. I’m marrying Viktor, and he’s giving me this house. So, honey, you need to clear out.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Irina asked, barely holding herself back.
“I don’t care what you think of me right now! I came to look at what my fiancé is giving me. I don’t want to end up in a shabby hut later. But here, it’s nothing…
“Okay, that’s it! End your circus, please, leave the house!”
“And you can’t tell me what to do!” Yana declared and opened the next room.
Irina rushed up and sharply pulled the woman by the sleeve. Yana barely kept her balance, staggering aside. The hostess carefully closed the door.
“Get out!” Irina hissed, feeling anger rising within her.
“Ooh, how mighty we are! Well, then, honey: I’m giving you exactly two weeks, after which I’m moving in here. Do you understand?”
From such rudeness, Irina was at a loss. She had not encountered such people in her life for a long time.
“Get out,” she said quietly but firmly, clenching her fists.
“Yes, I’m leaving already. I should have taken a couple more pictures, but never mind. I have the address. Bye-bye!”
Yana rushed to her shoes, quickly put them on, and, without waiting to be kicked out, darted onto the landing.
“Two weeks!” she yelled again and quickly ran down the steps.
Irina closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, feeling her knees tremble.
“What was that?” she asked herself. “Viktor couldn’t do this to me, he promised… Or maybe it was just a stupid prank by one of his flings?”
She looked at the clock. It was already late, but Irina knew she couldn’t sleep now. She needed to call Viktor and find out what was going on. But first, she checked on Alice’s room to make sure the noise hadn’t woken the girl. The little one was peacefully sleeping, hugging her favorite teddy bear, and Irina, looking at her daughter, felt a lump rise in her throat. She wouldn’t let anyone disrupt their peaceful life, especially some upstart who thought she owned their home.
The windows of the high-rises gradually lit up with a yellowish light, and the street lamps came on, casting whimsical shadows.
Irina paced the room, her elegant hands nervously adjusting strands that had escaped from her hairstyle. Thoughts jumbled in her head, and her heart beat like crazy. She couldn’t get rid of the words Yana, her ex-husband’s new passion, had said.
The apartment where Irina lived with her daughter Alice was filled with coziness and warmth. A soft sofa with multicolored cushions, bookshelves filled with favorite volumes, and photographs of happy moments on the walls — all created the atmosphere of a real home. But now this idyll seemed fragile and unreliable to Irina.
She remembered her agreement with Viktor: they would live here until Alice finished school. But the statement of his so-called fiancée was a terrible blow.
Unable to bear it any longer, Irina grabbed the phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed her ex-husband’s number, pressing the handset to her ear. After several rings, a familiar male voice answered:
“What’s up?” he replied without a greeting.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Irina blurted out, also without a preamble, trying to speak quietly not to wake up Alice sleeping in the next room. “Some woman just came by claiming to be your latest fling and told me to leave this apartment. Or is this your stupid prank?”
“Alright, I got it,” Viktor said. “Just don’t boil over.”
Irina walked into the kitchen. The small room, crammed with old but well-kept furniture, always seemed to her the coziest place in the apartment. Now, however, it seemed to be pressing on her.
“Don’t boil over?” she repeated, trying to contain the emotions bursting out.
“You knew very well that this apartment isn’t yours,” Viktor continued. “My mother gave it to me before our wedding so that we could live in it. You remember that?”
“Remember it well,” Irina snapped. “Indeed, your mother gave this apartment as a wedding gift for us to live in. But you ran away, leaving me with a daughter. And unless I’m mistaken, you promised not to disturb me until Alice finishes school.”
“Oh, let’s not talk about promises, times are different,” Viktor tried to evade.
“Don’t dodge the question. You promised,” Irina insisted.
“Yes, there was such a thing. But now I need this apartment,” her ex-husband coldly replied.
“You scoundrel!” Irina couldn’t hold back, but she immediately took herself in hand, realizing that this was no solution. “You’re vile.”
“Are we going to argue now, or are we going to resolve something?” Viktor asked calmly.
“Tell your Yana not to come again…” Irina began, but Viktor interrupted her.
“No,” he said firmly. “I need this apartment, so it’s unfortunate that she spoke to you first, not me.”
“So, you chickened out and sent your witch to me?” Irina remarked sarcastically.
“Let’s not insult each other. I’m just asking you to leave this apartment within two weeks,” Viktor said evenly.
“And go where?” Irina asked indignantly. “You know very well I don’t have another apartment.”
“You’ll rent one. I send you child support, and it’s not small. You can live well on it; it’ll cover a whole apartment,” Viktor confidently stated.
