Rita’s phone quivered in her hand. The voice of a strange woman, quiet but clear, echoed in the background. Just a second ago, she was predicting to hear her husband’s usual voice, but now this strange voice was there instead.
“Where are you?” she wanted to scream, but Rita gripped the phone tighter, held her breath, and asked as calmly as possible:
“Where are you?”
A woman’s laugh—short, nervous—jarred her nerves
Years of married life twinkled before her eyes: morning coffees, family Sundays, quiet evenings. Was it all a lie?
Sergey was still mute. Nearby, a woman’s voice sounded again—this time even softer, more intimate.
“I’m at work,” Sergey finally said, his voice too calm. Too normal.
“What’s that noise?” Rita asked, as if in a neutral tone.
“A meeting,” he replied shortly. “I have… colleagues here.”
But Rita already knew—it was not the truth. Is she an aff:air? a coincidence? a misunderstanding?
She decided to act. Slowly, calculatingly. Sergey must not guess that she had nearly discovered his lie.
All evening, Rita was perfectly calm. Therefore Sergey noticed nothing.
Only late at night, when her husband was asleep, did she take his phone. She knew the passcode long ago—their son’s birthday.
The first thing that attract her eye was a name. Angelica. Dozens of messages, becoming more intimate by the day. Photos that shared the nature of their relationship better than any words could.
Rita watched and felt something cool inside her.
The affair was not a coincidence. It was a prepared betrayal that had been continuing for months.
Rita put the phone back, trying not to move or betray her state. Sergey continued to sleep peacefully next to her, guessing nothing.
In the morning, everything was as usual.
Breakfast, coffee, a quick kiss before going to work.Rita smiled—her smile was now sharp as a blade.
All day, she preapared her plan. Ruined their marriage? Forgive? Make a scandal? No, that was too simple. She decided to act individually.
By evening, the plan was ripe. Rita invited her friend Natalia—the only person she could trust. Natalia was a lawyer and knew her way around such situations.
“I need the documents,” Rita said quietly. “All the documents about our property, joint savings.”
Natalia understood with half a word. Female solidarity is a remarkable thing. Two days later, Rita had everything she needed: copies of contracts, account statements, documents on jointly acquired property.
Sergey still suspected nothing. He continued to play the role of the perfect husband, sending messages throughout the day, calling. Each of his calls was now a painful mockery for Rita.
Then came the day when everything was assumed to change.
Rita invited Sergey to a restaurant, choosing the very one where they had celebrated their wedding ten years ago. He was surprised but agreed readily. Perhaps he thought his wife just wanted to refresh memories.
At the table, amid dim light and soft music, Rita was utterly calm. She ordered his favorite wine, smiled as easily as ten years ago. Sergey relaxed, thinking everything was fine.
“To us?” he offered, raising his glass.
“To the truth,” replied Rita.
At that moment, Sergey felt something was wrong. Her gaze was too calm, too cutting.
“I know about Angelica,” she said quietly.
A moment of silence. Sergey grew pale, the wine froze halfway to his lips.
“What do you mean?” he tried to argue.
“The choice is yours,” she said. “Either we divorce harmoniously, and you give me half of everything we’ve earned, or I’ll make a scandal that will destroy your reputation completely.”
Sergey looked at her—the woman he thought he knew for ten years, now realizing he had never really known her at all.
Sergey slowly set down his glass. A drop of wine slid onto the white tablecloth, leaving a dark spot—a symbolic harbinger of the looming catastrophe.
“Rita, I can explain everything,” he started.
“It’s too late for explanations,” she responded coldly.
“You had a chance to be honest with me months ago.”
Sergey understood. His betrayal was completely unguarded, and his marriage was irreversibly damaged. Angelica, whom he had dismissed as a passing affair, was now responsible for the complete breakdown of his family life.
“What do you want?” he asked quietly.
“Justice,” Rita answered.
Her plans had been meticulous. Lawyer Natalia compiled all of the records and gathered convincing evidence about the affair. Sergey was denied the right to their joint apartment, half of their savings, and almost all claims.
“We have a son,” Sergey tried to argue.
“That’s exactly why I’m acting this way, not making a scandal,” Rita responded harshly. “For his sake.”
At that moment, her phone vibrated. A message from Natalia: “Everything’s ready. Documents can be filed with the court tomorrow.”
Rita finished her drink, enjoying it calmly.
While Rita was preparing the divorce papers, Angelica was very certain in her victory. She hoped that her romance with Sergey would develop into something more—a genuine, committed relationship. When he abandoned his wife, of course.
Angelica worked in the same company as Sergey. A sales manager used to getting whatever she wanted. Her charm and tenacity had frequently helped her attain her goals. She met Sergey a year ago at a business gathering. First, there were harmless flirtations, then lengthy discussions, and finally—an affair.
She was not afraid of the consequences. Moreover, she was assured that Rita—a quiet housewife—would simply acquiesce to the situation when Sergey filed for divorce. Angelica imagined how they would have a child together, buy an apartment, create a new family.
But Rita was not as Angelica had imagined her.
“She knows everything,” Sergey said dryly. “And she’s preparing to file for divorce. She’ll sue for half the property.”
Angelica was mute. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t know what to say.
Angelica was torn between the fear of losing Sergey and the hope that their relationship would somehow continue. She had not predicted such cold calculation from Rita.
Maxim, Rita and Sergey’s son, did not understand what was happening.
One evening, when they were alone, Maxim finally spoke openly with his mother:
“Is Dad going to leave us?”
“Dad has already left,” she replied quietly. “He was just physically still here.”
The legal process became a procedure. Sergey hardly resisted.
Then Angelica disappeared from his life as suddenly as she had appeared—revealed that the aff:air would not bring her what she wanted.
Rita achieved everything: the apartment, half the joint savings, the right to raise their son. But her greatest achievement was her inner peace.
Life continued.
A year later, Rita hardly recognized herself. She seemed to be reborn after that depressed period.
Maxim grew up. He now became a real support for his mother.
Sergey occasionally appeared to see his son. Their meetings were short, formal. No warmth, no attempts to build the relationship. Rita was so calm during these meetings that it scared her ex-husband more than any scandal.
Natalia, her friend and lawyer, often said:
“You’re stronger than you think. You managed to turn betrayal into a turning point.”
And it was true. Rita not only lives the blow—she changed her life.
One evening, as she and Maxim were drinking tea, the son unexpectedly asked:
“Mom, do you regret how you handled things with Dad?”
Rita smiled.
“I don’t regret the truth,” she answered. “About protecting myself and you.”
