My husband and I are getting divorced. The reason for the divorce was his constant affairs and rude behavior. He didn’t come home at night, disappeared all the time, shouted and swore, and I was tired of enduring it all. So I decided to leave him, but another question arose: the division of property.

A heavy silence filled the room. We sat across from each other: him – arms crossed, face like stone; me – on the edge of the sofa, fists clenched.

„You’re starting again,” he said irritably. „Nothing is ever enough for you! The house, the furniture, the car… All of it is mine! I earned it all!”

„You?” I smirked, though my chest was burning. „We worked together! We built our life together. But apparently, you weren’t building with me, but with dozens of other women.”

„Don’t exaggerate,” he frowned, but looked away.

„I’m tired,” I said calmly, though my voice trembled. „Tired of enduring your affairs, your nightly ‘disappearances,’ and your shouting. I’m leaving.”

He lifted his chin.

„Then leave. But you’ll get nothing from here. Everything stays with me.”

I paused and, as if weighing every word, said:

„Fine… Everything can be yours. But on one condition.”

„Hm…” he squinted. „And what would that be?”

„I’m taking the refrigerator.”

He was even surprised.

„The refrigerator?.. Are you serious?” he chuckled. „Only the refrigerator?”

„Yes. Only that.”

„But why do you need it? It’s old, rusty, about forty years old!”

„That’s my problem now,” I looked stubbornly into his eyes.

He shrugged, pleased with his small victory.

„Alright then. Fine. Take your refrigerator.”

I nodded slowly.

„But there’s one condition.”

„What now?” he frowned.

„Until I move out, you must not open the refrigerator.”

„And why is that?!”

„Either that, or I go to court.”

He knew he would have to explain a lot in court: bills, property, his nightly ‘business trips.’ So reluctantly, he waved his hand.

„Fine. I won’t open it.”

My husband thought I was just taking the old refrigerator, but he had no idea why I really needed it…

Two days later, I called the movers. The refrigerator was carefully carried out, and my husband watched with a smile, as if there really was nothing valuable inside.

But he didn’t understand. Inside, behind the old door with the chipped handle, were all our saved money, jewelry, documents, and even small appliances. I carried an entire life in one ‘useless refrigerator.’

When he later found out — he shouted, swore, and tried to accuse me of deceit.

I calmly looked at him and reminded him:

„We had an agreement.”

I left, closing the door behind me. And in his apartment, only the walls, the old sofa, and emptiness remained.