And I knew: this was only the beginning.
The next day, the city greeted me with a cold wind and a low, grey sky, as if warning me in advance of a conversation that could no longer be avoided. I knew he would return.
And so it happened — in the evening, the lock clicked in the door.
Yegor entered the flat slowly, as if he couldn’t believe he was back here again. I greeted him calmly. Almost coldly.
He stopped in the middle of the hall.
‘What have you done?!’ he snapped.
I walked silently to the table and laid out the printouts in front of him: bank statements, account freeze notices, confirmations of failed transfers and transactions.
“Did you really think you could take our joint money, run off with another woman and, to top it all off, send me a message like that?” I said evenly. “It’s all come to light now.”
He turned pale. The panic I’d only glimpsed the day before through dry bank statements now stood before me in the flesh: trembling hands, a vacant stare, a faltering voice.
I sat down opposite him.
‘We’ve lived together for many years, Yegor. But trust can be destroyed in a single evening. And restoring it afterwards is almost impossible.’
He tried to make excuses. He started talking about a ‘business trip’, a ‘mistake’, a ‘misunderstanding’, a ‘coincidence’. But every word sounded false and pathetic.
‘Now you have a choice,’ I said. ‘Either you deal with the consequences you’ve created yourself… or you lose everything for good.’
He lowered his head. A thick, heavy silence hung in the flat.
I stepped out onto the balcony and breathed in the cold, damp air. The tension gradually began to ease.
Outside, the city was just the same: wet roofs, grey windows, the noise of cars below.
But inside me, everything had already changed.
I knew only one thing: I would never let myself be deceived again.
This story marked the end of one chapter.
And a new one was beginning — without lies, without betrayal, and without the man who had decided he could steal not only my money, but also my right to the truth.