“Gelya, um… in general, we need to part ways now,” my husband said as if it was a small matter. I, naively, thought the divorce would be quiet and clean—on paper.
Yeah, right.
“Have you met someone?” I ask, not immediately believing what I heard.
“Someone.” A woman I love. I want to be with her, so I’m leaving. Or—rather, you’re leaving.”
He clearly expected that I’d cry, quickly pack my things, and go to my mother. He miscalculated. I’ve been through things with him, so I have every right to both the apartment and a military mortgage. But to prove it, I have to go for support to the new general—and there I’m hit with an unexpected twist.
“So my Nastya is involved with your husband? Wow… she’s so much like her mother,” he concludes grimly. “Don’t worry, Angelina, I’ll find a way to help you. By the way, what are you doing this evening?”