«I want a divorce! You’re not my wife, you’re nothing!» he shouted loudly, convinced he had destroyed her.
Stella remained calm.
«Fine. At least I no longer have to support you and your mother.»
She raised her glass, scanning the room decorated for the holidays.
«And now, let’s begin with the truth.»
The silence was deafening.
Today was her 38th birthday – a milestone that coincided with the delivery of the quarterly report, the catering arrangements, and the constant fear that her mother-in-law, Eleanor, would turn the party into a courtroom to judge her mistakes.
«Stella, why are you running around like a madwoman?» Eleanor’s voice echoed from the kitchen like a cold gust of wind.
«Did you check the roast beef? Probably too salty, like last time.»
Stella took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing; Eleanor could complain about a ray of sunshine.
Mark, as usual, was lying on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels.
«Could you help me?» Stella asked softly.
He grunted.
«I’m a creative, remember? I need inspiration, not chores.»
That was how he’d defined himself ever since his startup failed: a man now immersed in video games and television, while Stella took care of everything — the mortgage, bills, groceries, and even her sister’s loan.
Despite the stress of her daily life, Stella felt strong. Her grandmother had left her the apartment and taught her:
«Mind your own business, little star.»
Stella was successful and respected in her career, but at home, another reality ruled: a world full of stress, criticism, and unspoken expectations.
Her phone vibrated. It was Chloé, her best friend, promising her support:
«Hang tight — the cavalry’s coming.»
A genuine smile crossed Stella’s lips. Today, something was going to change.
The party began, filled with friends and colleagues, their laughter momentarily dissipating the oppressive atmosphere of the apartment. Stella played the part of the happy woman celebrating her life, while Mark, absent until then, arrived late. With wilted roses and a mocking kiss on the cheek, he began, as usual, to raise the tension.
He circled her, tossing out biting remarks, looking at her with resentment. Then, after an hour, he suddenly stood up:
«I’ve thought about it. I’m done with this. I’m asking for a divorce.»
Dead silence. Stella’s friends froze, her mother clutched a paper napkin. Mark waited for drama, but Stella didn’t react as expected. No tears. No shouting. Just calm clarity.
She looked him straight in the eye.
«Very well,» she said, in a calm and steady voice.
«Mark says he wants a divorce. I won’t stop him. In fact, I’m prepared for it.»
She pulled out a folder, notarized documents: the apartment was now in her parents’ name. Mark had no legal claim. She presented a bank statement: her salary was hers alone. All the years she had spent supporting him, his mother, even her sister — they ended here.
«I won’t support anyone else. I’ll live for myself. I’ll be happy.»
A genuine smile lit up her eyes as Chloé handed her a cold glass of champagne.
«To my freedom. To my new life. A life where I’ll be my own master.»
The next morning, the doorbell rang.
Eleanor stormed in, furious like a tempest.
«You’ve destroyed him!» she growled.
Stella sighed — not from exhaustion, but with finality.
«Come in. But I don’t think you’ll like what you’re about to hear.»
«You think you’re happy now?»
«Yes,» Stella replied simply. «For the first time in a long while.»
Eleanor continued ranting, calling her selfish, demanding she go back to Mark. Stella stayed calm.
«Is it selfish to want to be happy? To live my life the way I choose? Don’t I deserve that?»
Eleanor fell silent, worn out by her own accusations. Finally, she turned and slammed the door.
Stella felt a deep sense of peace.
Another chain had been broken.
She was finally free.
