Who are you?!
Julia froze in her apartment doorway, disbelief flashing in her eyes.
Before her stood an unfamiliar woman in her thirties, hair pulled into a small ponytail, with two childrena boy and a girlpeering curiously at the unexpected guest.
The hallway was littered with foreign slippers, strange jackets hung on the coat rack, and the scent of borscht wafted from the kitchen.
And who are you? the woman frowned, instinctively pulling the younger child closer. We live here. Grigory let us in. He said the landlady wouldnt mind.
This is MY flat! Julias voice trembled with outrage. I never gave you permission to stay!
The woman blinked, looking around at the scattered toys, the kitchen where childrens laundry hung, as if searching for proof of her right to be there.
But Grigory Mikhailovich said Were relatives He told me you werent opposed That youre kind and understanding
Julia felt a wave of indignation and shock, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her.
She slowly shut the door, pressed her back against it, and tried to collect her thoughts. Her home, her space, her lifenow she felt like an intruder in it.
—
A year earlier everything had been different. Julia was relaxing by the sea, enjoying a hardearned vacation after finishing a demanding restoration project of a historic building in downtown Dnipro.
At thirtyfour she was a successful architect, accustomed to relying only on herself.
Her career occupied most of her life, and she didnt complainwork brought satisfaction and a steady, good income.
She met Grigory on a waterfront one sweltering August evening. He was a charming man, a few years older, with a warm smile and attentive brown eyes.
Divorced for three years, father of two a tenyearold boy and a sevenyearold girlhe worked as a foreman for a large construction firm.
Grigory courted her in an oldfashioned waydaily flowers, seaside restaurants with a view, long walks along the promenade under the stars.
Youre special, he said, gently kissing her hand. Smart, independent, beautiful. I havent met a woman so complete in a long time. You know what you want from life.
Julia melted under his words and attention. After a series of failed relationships with men who were either intimidated by her success or tried to compete with her, Grigory seemed like a gift from fate.
He respected her work, asked about her projects with genuine interest, and supported her when clients made impossible demands.
I like that youre strong, he told her. Yet you remain feminine, tender, caring.
The vacation ended, but the relationship continued. Grigory visited her in Dnipro, she traveled to Mykolaiv; they kept in touch via video calls, messages, and future plans.
Eight months later he proposed right where they had first met.
The wedding was modest but warm. Julia moved to Mykolaiv, joined a local architectural studio, and left her Dnipro apartment empty.
Were one family now, he said, embracing her tightly. My children are your children, my problems are your problems. Well get through everything together.
At first Julia was happy. She loved the feeling of a real family, the warmth of a home hearth, childrens voices filling the house.
She gladly helped Grigory with the kids, bought them gifts, paid for their extracurriculars, and drove them to doctors.
But gradually things began to shift.
It started with small thingsGrigory would take money from her card without asking. Forgot to ask, sorry, hed say when she noticed a charge.
Soon he started asking her to cover alimony for his exwife more often.
You know how it is, hed say, spreading his hands with a guilty smile. The kids arent responsible for the months earnings falling short.
Im having trouble at work; the salarys delayed a bit, hed add.
Julia understood and wanted to help. She loved Grigory and had grown attached to his children.
But the requests grew constant and larger: paying for the childrens trip to their grandmother in Ternopil, buying winter coats, covering a summer camp, hiring a math tutor.
The worst part was Grigory began transferring money directly from Julias card to his exwife without telling her.
Theyre our children now, he justified when Julia protested a new transfer. You love them, dont you?
And then, your salary is higher than mine. Does it hurt you?
Its not about hurting or not, Julia said quietly but firmly. These are my money, and you should at least discuss it with me first.
Of course, of course. Next time Ill ask, I promise.
But the next time looked just like the previous one.
Julia started feeling less like a wife and partner and more like a convenient source of funds. Her opinions were never asked; she was just presented with facts.
Each time she tried to argue or talk about the household budget, Grigory accused her of being stingy, selfish, and unwilling to be a real family.
I thought you were different, he said bitterly. I thought money didnt matter to you
—
That May day, when she decided to visit her sick mother in Dnipropetrovsk and, on the way, check her own apartment in Dnipro, Julia still hoped things could be repaired.
Perhaps a short separation would let both of them rethink the relationship and find a compromise.
What she found in her flat, however, exceeded her worst fears.
The apartment was in a livedin mess. The kitchen was piled with dirty dishes, foreign laundry dried in the bathroom, and a childrens crib stood in her bedroom.
Unpaid utility bills totaling over eleven thousand hryvnias lay on the table.
How long have you been living here? Julia asked, trying to stay calm.
Three months now, the woman replied, still not grasping the situations scale. Grigory Mikhailovich said we could stay until we find a place of our own.
We pay, of course. Six thousand a month. He said you have a big heart, so youd agree.
Julias hands trembled with fury as she grabbed the phone and dialed her husband.
Grigory, didnt you ask me anything?! she blurted, not waiting for a greeting. You let a family move into my apartment without my knowledge.
And wheres the rent money? Eighteen thousand for three months!
Julia, calm down Grigorys voice sounded guilty and defensive. Its distant relatives, Svitlana and the kids. The children are small, they had nowhere else to go.
Youre not living there yourself. Youre not against helping people, right? Im saving the money for our Turkish vacation, wanted to surprise you.
In that instant something inside Julia finally brokenot from anger, but from a clear, cold realization.
She understood that, for Grigory, she was not a wife or partner but a convenient resource.
Her apartment, her money, her lifeeverything was at his disposal, and he didnt even think to ask her opinion.
Grigory, she said softly, yet with iron resolve. Your relatives have one week to vacate my flat.
Julia, are you out of your mind? his voice sharpened. There are children! Where will they go? Are you heartless?
Thats not my problem. One week. And I want all the rent back.
How dare you! Youre my wife; were a family!
Do not start! In a normal family everyones opinion is heard, not just facts thrust upon them.
She hung up and turned to the woman, who listened in horror.
Im really sorry, Julia said, her tone genuinely sympathetic. But you have to leave. No one asked my consent.
The following days were spent taking action. Julia called a locksmith and changed the locks.
She consulted a lawyer to properly file for divorce and divide assets.
She blocked Grigorys access to her accounts and cards.
He called every day, pleading, accusing, trying to tug at her sympathy.
I thought we had a real family, he said, voice breaking. I thought we were a team, that you truly loved me.
You thought you could use my property as you wished, Julia replied calmly. Turns out you cant.
Youre a coldhearted woman! Youre destroying the family over money!
You destroyed the family when you decided my opinion didnt matter.
The divorce proceeded swiftlythere was virtually no jointly owned property, and the children remained with him.
Grigory returned part of the money he had spent on his needs and relatives, but not all.
Julia didnt drag out the court proceedings; she just wanted to close this painful chapter as quickly as possible.
Youll regret it, Grigory said during their final meeting at the notarys office. Youll end up alone, unwanted. Who needs a harsh woman like you?
I need myself, Julia answered evenly. And thats enough for me.
When all the paperwork was settled, she packed her belongings and left him, the sea, the troubles behind.
On the train, watching the flickering scenery through the window, she thought not of lost love but of how crucial it is not to lose oneself in love.
And how true love never demands sacrifice or selfdenial.
