Who are you?!
Julia froze in the doorway of her own apartment, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Standing before her was a stranger, a woman in her thirties with a small ponytail, and behind her two childrena boy and a girlwatched the unexpected guest with curiosity.
In the hallway lay foreign slippers, unfamiliar jackets hung on the rack, and the kitchen wafted with the scent of borscht.
And you are who? the woman frowned, instinctively pulling the younger child close. We live here. Grigory let us in. He said the landlady wouldnt mind.
This is MY apartment! Julias voice trembled with outrage. I never gave you permission to live here!
The woman blinked in confusion, scanning the scattered toys, the kitchen where childrens laundry was drying, as if searching for proof of her right to stay.
But Grigory Mikhailovich said Were relatives He told me you werent opposed That youre kind and understanding
Julia felt a surge of indignation and a shock that hit her like a bucket of cold water.
She slowly closed the door and leaned her back against it, trying to collect her thoughts. Her home, her space, her lifenow she felt like a stranger in it.
—
A year earlier everything had been different. Julia was vacationing by the sea, enjoying a hardwon break after finishing a complex reconstruction of a historic building in downtown Dnipro.
At thirtyfour she was a successful architect, accustomed to relying only on herself.
Her career consumed most of her life, and she didnt complainher work gave her satisfaction and a steady, good income.
She met Grigory on a balmy August evening by the promenade. He was a charming man, a little older, with a warm smile and attentive brown eyes.
Divorced for three years, a father of two a tenyearold boy and a sevenyearold girlhe worked as a foreman for a large construction firm.
Grigory courted her in a classic, romantic waydaily flowers, seaside restaurants, long walks under the stars.
Youre special, he said, gently kissing her hand. Smart, independent, beautiful. I havent seen such a complete woman in ages. You know exactly 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 profession, asked keenly about her projects, and supported her when clients demanded the impossible.
I like that youre strong, he told her. Yet you remain feminine, tender, and 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 flat empty.
Were a family now, he said, hugging her tight. My children are your children, my problems are yours. Well get through everything together.
At first Julia was happy. She loved the feeling of a real family, the warmth of a home, the children’s voices echoing through the house.
She gladly helped Grigory with the kids, bought them gifts, paid for clubs and lessons, and drove them to doctors.
But slowly 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.
Then he asked more often for help with alimony to his exwife.
You understand, hed explain, spreading his hands with a guilty smile. The kids arent responsible for the fact that their parents didnt make enough this month. My salary is delayed.
Julia wanted to help. She loved Grigory and was attached to his children.
Yet the requests grew constant and largerpaying for the childrens trip to their grandmother in Ternopil, buying winter coats, covering the summer camp fee, hiring a math tutor.
The worst part was Grigory starting to transfer money directly from Julias card to his exwife, without any warning.
Theyre our children now, hed justify when Julia protested a new transfer. You love them, right?
And then, you earn more than I do. Does that hurt you?
Its not about hurting or not, Julia replied quietly but firmly. Those are my money, and you could at least discuss it with me beforehand.
Of course, of course. Ill ask next time.
But the next time was no different.
Julia began to feel like a convenient source of funding rather than a partner. Her opinion was never asked; she was simply presented with facts.
Whenever she tried to object or discuss the family budget, Grigory accused her of being stingy, selfish, and unwilling to be a true family.
I thought you were different, he said bitterly. I thought money wasnt your priority
—
That May day, when she decided to visit her sick mother in Dnipropetrovsk and, on the way, check her own flat, Julia still hoped things could be mended.
Perhaps a short separation would let both of them rethink the relationship and find a compromise.
What she found in her apartment exceeded her worst fears.
The flat was a mess of livedin chaos. Unwashed dishes piled in the kitchen, someone elses laundry hung in the bathroom, and a childrens crib stood in her bedroom.
Unpaid utility bills totalling 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 gravity. Grigory Mikhailovich said we could stay until we find somewhere of our own. We pay, of coursesix thousand a month. He told me you have a big heart.
Julias hand trembled as she grabbed her phone and dialed her husband.
Grigory, didnt you ask me anything before moving a family into my flat?! she blurted, without greetings. And wheres the rent money? Eighteen thousand for three months!
Julia, dont shout 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 even living there. Youre not against helping people? Im saving the money for our vacation in Turkey, wanted to surprise you.
In that moment something inside Julia finally snappednot from anger, but from a cold, clear realization.
She understood that, for Grigory, she was not a wife or partner but a convenient resource.
Her flat, her money, her life were at his disposal, and he didnt even think to ask her opinion.
Grigory, she said softly, but with steel in her tone. Your relatives have a week to vacate my apartment.
Julia, are you out of your mind? his voice turned sharp. There are children! Where will they go? Are you heartless?
Its not my problem. A week. And I want all the rent money back.
How dare you! Youre my wife, were a family!
Dont start! In a normal family everyones opinion is considered, not just imposing facts.
She hung up and turned to the woman who had listened to the conversation in horror.
Im really sorry, Julia said, and genuine pity was in her voice. But you have to leave. No one asked my permission.
The following days were a flurry of action. Julia called a locksmith and changed the locks. She consulted a lawyer to properly arrange the divorce and split the finances. She blocked Grigorys access to her accounts and cards.
He called every day, pleading, accusing, trying to tug at her compassion.
I thought we had a real family, he said, voice cracking. 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 couldnt.
Youre a coldhearted woman! Youre destroying the family over some money!
You destroyed the family when you decided my opinion didnt matter.
The divorce proceeded quicklythere was little joint property, and the children were few.
Grigory returned part of the money hed spent on his needs and relatives, but not all.
Julia didnt drag the process outshe just wanted to close this painful chapter as fast as possible.
Youll regret it, Grigory said at their final meeting at the notary. Youll end up alone, unwanted. Who needs a harsh woman like you?
Im enough for myself, Julia answered evenly. And thats sufficient.
When the paperwork was done, she packed her belongings and left him, the sea, the troubles behind.
On the train, watching the flickering landscape through the window, she thought not of lost love but of how crucial it is not to lose oneself within love.
And how true love never demands sacrifice or selfdenial.
