Inna stood by the window, her gaze following the raindrops as they carved restless paths across the glass. Seventeen years — was that a long time or a fleeting moment? She remembered every day of their shared life: every anniversary, every silent understanding, every disappointment and reconciliation. And now, all of it was crumbling silently, like a house built on sand.

«We need to talk,» Alexey’s voice broke through the stillness of the room.

Inna turned slowly, meeting his eyes. Determination flickered there, mixed with a shadow of guilt. She recognized that look — it was the look of someone preparing to deliver a blow.

«I’m leaving, Inna. I’m going to Natasha,» he said, voice low but firm.

Silence filled the space between them. Only the slow ticking of the old wall clock — a wedding gift from Alexey’s mother — punctuated the stillness.

«Natasha,» Inna repeated, her voice almost curious. «The student from your department?»

«Yes,» Alexey said quickly. «The feelings between us… they’ve faded, Inna. I need something new. Fresh emotions. You’re a smart woman. You should understand.»

A smart woman. How many times had he used those words, always when he needed to justify himself?

«Are you sure?» she asked calmly.

«Absolutely,» he said, straightening his shoulders. «I’ve already packed my things.»

Inna simply nodded. Then, with measured steps, she walked to the cabinet and took out a bottle of vintage champagne — the one they had been saving for a “special occasion.”

«Well, I think this qualifies as a special occasion,» she said, starting to open the bottle. «You know, I suggest we have a farewell dinner. Let’s invite your friends, your family. After all, seventeen years together isn’t nothing.»

Alexey blinked, caught off-guard.

«You… you want to celebrate our divorce?»

«Why not?» Inna smiled — a strange, unsettling smile that made him shift uncomfortably. «Let’s part ways with dignity. After all, I am a smart woman. Or have you forgotten?»

Without waiting for an answer, she picked up her phone and began tapping rapidly. Her fingers moved with precise certainty.

«Tomorrow, seven o’clock. I’ll cook all your favorite dishes. Consider it my parting gift.»

Alexey stood frozen, words caught in his throat. He had expected tears, screaming, perhaps desperate pleas. Anything but this icy politeness.

«And one more thing,» Inna added, still typing. «Tell Natasha she’s invited too. I’d love to meet the girl who succeeded where I failed — who managed to reignite the fire in you.»

The next morning, Inna rose early.

She spent the day in relentless, focused activity — calling banks, meeting with a lawyer, finalizing documents. Every step was deliberate, cold, efficient, like a surgeon performing a delicate but necessary amputation.

By evening, the apartment was filled with the rich aromas of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and exotic spices. The table gleamed with the finest china, the crystal glasses shimmered under the light, and every fork, every plate was placed with meticulous care.

At exactly seven, the guests began to arrive.

Friends, relatives, colleagues — all exchanging puzzled glances, not sure whether they had come to a celebration or a wake.

Alexey entered, leading Natasha by the hand. She looked young, awkward, out of place in the elegant setting.

Inna greeted them with warmth, her smile as steady as steel.

«Welcome,» she said. «Tonight, we celebrate new beginnings.»

The guests murmured, exchanging glances.

Inna raised her glass.

«To seventeen years of memories,» she said. «To lessons learned. And to the future — may it be exactly what each of us deserves.»

She drank deeply, savoring the taste of freedom mingled with bittersweet nostalgia.

Throughout the evening, she remained the perfect hostess — gracious, poised, untouchable. She laughed easily, spoke kindly, moved through the room like a queen bidding farewell to her subjects.

After the last guest had left, Inna approached Alexey, who stood awkwardly by the door, clutching a glass he hadn’t touched.

«Tomorrow morning, you’ll collect your things,» she said quietly. «The property division is finalized. Bank accounts are already separated. You’ll find all the documents on the table.»

He opened his mouth, searching for words, but none came.

Without another glance, Inna turned and disappeared into her bedroom, leaving him alone in the vast, silent apartment.

That night, for the first time in years, Inna slept peacefully.

Because a smart woman knows:

You don’t beg someone to stay.

You hold the door open for them.

And then you lock it behind them — forever.