I. The Accident

It was a quiet Saturday morning when Vera had just finished clearing the breakfast table. The sound of the clinking plates echoed in the kitchen, and she was about to start preparing lunch when the phone rang. Her husband, Gleb, was calling. She didn’t expect the phone call to be anything out of the ordinary, but Gleb’s voice, trembling and strained, immediately sent a wave of panic through her.

“Vera… I got hit on the road.”

Vera’s heart stopped. The air seemed to get thicker around her, and her hands trembled as she gripped the phone tighter.

“Oh God, Gleb! Are you alive? Are you okay?” she blurted, her voice rising in panic. “Just don’t pass out! I’ll call an ambulance right now. Where are you? Tell me where you are!”

She dropped the vegetables she had been preparing for the salad onto the stove, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. In a split second, her thoughts conjured up images of Gleb being hit by a car or a motorcycle. Her breath caught in her throat.

Gleb’s voice, though strained, reassured her. “I’m sitting here on the flower bed. My leg hurts, but I’m okay. No big deal.”

Relief flooded her, though she couldn’t shake the image of him, barely alive, lying somewhere in pain.

“Thank God you’re okay,” she whispered, trying to steady her breath. “Wait there, I’ll come to you right now.”

When Vera reached Gleb, she found him sitting on the flower bed, clutching his leg, grimacing in pain. Despite his words, there was no denying the situation seemed serious. Gleb muttered that his leg hurt all over, but when Vera asked about the accident, he seemed confused.

“Did you get the license plate number? What happened? Was it a motorcycle or a car?” she asked rapidly, her concern rising.

“No, I was run over by a scooter,” he replied.

Vera stared at him, trying to understand. A scooter? A child on a scooter?

“Are you sure? A scooter?” she asked, her disbelief growing. The image of a grown man on a motorcycle or even a car speeding down the road, colliding with her husband, was something she could wrap her head around. But a scooter? A child on a scooter?

“Yes, a scooter. He hit my leg and just left. Didn’t even stop,” Gleb muttered, still clutching his leg.

Vera looked around, trying to locate the scooter rider. Gleb pointed weakly to the right.

“There! Over there!” he whispered.

Vera followed his gaze and saw a small boy, around five years old, standing by his scooter. His helmet was crooked, and he looked confused, as if he didn’t understand what had happened.

“A child?!” Vera exclaimed, shock and disbelief coloring her voice.

“He’s not just a child. He’s a little devil!” Gleb groaned, his frustration building. “I think I’ve broken something! Take me to the trauma center.”

Vera was still processing what he said when the boy’s mother ran up, apologizing profusely. The child was clearly scared and crying.

Vera tried to calm the situation down. “It’s his first time on the scooter. He didn’t mean to, really. It was an accident.”

But Gleb was beyond reason at that moment. “You didn’t hear it crack! I could’ve had my leg broken, or worse! What if it was an elderly person? It’s not just about the accident, Vera. It’s about what this careless child could do!”

The boy’s mother continued to apologize, but Vera’s empathy for the child grew as she watched him cry, his small hands clutching his scooter.

“I’m not on their side!” Vera said firmly, stepping between her husband and the boy’s mother. “Let’s go to the trauma center. We can sort this out.”

II. The Hospital Visit

Vera helped Gleb into the car and drove him to the trauma center. As they sat in the waiting room, Gleb continued to complain about the accident, ranting about how reckless young people were, how he couldn’t believe a child would cause such an injury.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I need an X-ray. I might have a fracture or at least a crack.”

The nurse called Gleb’s name, and the X-ray was done. After a long wait, the nurse came out with the results.

“Sinitsyn?” she called. “The X-ray is ready. Your leg is fine. No fracture.”

Gleb’s face fell as he absorbed the news. “Really? So no broken bone?”

The nurse nodded. “You’re good to go. Just a bruise.”

Vera sighed with relief, but Gleb wasn’t convinced. “I told you, I felt it crack. I’m not walking this off. Not after everything I’ve been through today.” He hobbled around the house that evening, still lamenting about how the injury would impact him.

Vera made the salad for dinner as promised, but Gleb wasn’t feeling better.

III. Confrontation

The next day, Gleb was persistent. “We have to talk to that boy’s parents. They should understand the consequences of raising such a reckless child. How much did we spend on the X-ray, Vera?”

“It was free,” she replied, trying to calm him.

“No, no! It’s not just about the X-ray. It’s about the inconvenience. I want them to pay for this. I want them to understand the damage they’ve caused.”

Vera hesitated but decided to support her husband, though she had a sinking feeling in her gut. She couldn’t let Gleb go alone. They went together to the boy’s house. When the mother opened the door, Gleb immediately began his tirade, telling her about moral damage and how her son had caused him significant distress.

The boy’s mother apologized, but Vera saw the situation spiraling. Just as the mother started to explain, the boy’s father walked into the room. He was a giant of a man, towering over them both. Vera immediately felt the difference in power.

“Alright, what do you want?” the father asked, his tone cold.

Gleb didn’t back down. “We want compensation for the injury, for the damage to my leg!”

The boy’s father scowled but said nothing. Vera, standing awkwardly by, tried to stay out of the escalating confrontation. She felt herself retreating emotionally, observing her husband with growing concern. She understood, then, how much Gleb had been turning everything into a fight.

IV. The Turning Point

After the confrontation, the tension in the car on the way home was unbearable. Vera felt something shift inside her. Something had changed. Gleb had been playing the victim for so long, using every situation to fuel his anger. He blamed the world for his misfortune and, worse, expected her to support him in every battle.

She hadn’t said a word when he ranted about the “useless” neighbors, the “stupid” drivers, and his “greedy” colleagues. Vera had been the one to hold him together, but now she felt the weight of his negativity growing unbearable.

“Why did you leave me alone with them?” Gleb asked, frustration rising in his voice. “Why didn’t you stand by me?”

“I didn’t want to be part of this anymore,” Vera replied, her voice calm and steady. “You have your personal battles, Gleb, but I can’t fight them for you.”

V. The Final Decision

When they arrived home, Gleb went straight to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Vera stood by the window, looking at the life they had built. But in that moment, she realized it wasn’t her life anymore. It had become a battle she was losing.

The next morning, Gleb started accusing her of not supporting him. He felt abandoned, betrayed by her sudden coldness.

“You’ve changed,” he said, his voice full of disbelief. “You’re no longer the woman I married.”

Vera didn’t respond. She knew, deep down, that the marriage had already changed long ago. She had stopped supporting him in ways that made her feel small. She wasn’t his defender anymore. She had grown beyond that.

Her realization was final: she didn’t want to fight for someone who only saw the world through the lens of anger and blame. She wanted to be free.

VI. Liberation

Gleb didn’t understand her decision. He left, and Vera didn’t try to stop him. She knew that this wasn’t just about the scooter accident. It was about years of quietly accepting his disdain for everything and everyone around him. She no longer wanted to live that way.

As the door closed behind him, Vera felt a strange sense of relief. The weight that had been dragging her down for years had finally fallen away.

And just like that, she was free.

End.