- Go to hell, Grishenka—I'm touching my lips with my fingers, adjusting the lipstick I simply licked off and bit off, while standing and getting nervous. – Just divorce. And whether kindly or badly—we’ll see. I wanted it like in books: long and happy. But it didn’t happen. My husband cheated with the secretary and offers me to keep turning a blind eye to his escapades. He’s jumped onto a young spaniel, happy at the realization of his own strength. Exactly—devil in the flesh. To waste years of a happy marriage on a dog’s tail in one moment—that takes talent. But I’ll divorce him. And I don’t care that he has a law firm. For any fancy lawyers there are lawyers even more impressive. And smarter.