Upon seeing her husband with another woman, Veronika didn’t cause a scene. Instead, she decided to give him a gift he would never have expected.

Veronika slowly set down the cup of cooling coffee. Her fingers—adorned with rings her husband had given her over more than twenty years of marriage—trembled slightly. Through the panoramic window of the Bellagio restaurant, the glittering evening city stretched out before her, but she paid no attention to the twinkling lights or the bustling waiters.

Her entire world had narrowed to a single table at the opposite end of the room.

“What a coincidence,” she whispered, watching Igor tenderly stroke the hand of a young brunette. “What an amazing coincidence…”

How many times had she asked her husband to bring her to this very restaurant? Ten? Twenty? Honey, I’m tired. Sweetheart, maybe another time. Verochka, I have an important meeting. The excuses had piled up year after year until she stopped asking altogether.

And now, there he was—leaning back in his chair, laughing so freely it was as if he had turned back the clock fifteen years.

A waiter approached her table.
“Would you like anything else?”
“Yes,” Veronika replied, her eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. “Please bring me the bill from that table over there. I’d like to give a gift.”
“I’m sorry?”
“That man in the burgundy blazer—he’s my husband. I want to pay for their dinner. Just… please don’t mention who paid.”

The young man looked at her in surprise but nodded. Veronika took out her credit card—the same one Igor had given her for her last birthday with the words, Spend it on yourself, my dear. Well, technically, she was. She was spending it on herself—on her future.

After settling the bill, she rose and walked toward the exit. Passing her husband’s table, she slowed her pace for a moment. Igor was so engrossed in his companion that he didn’t notice her. Or perhaps he simply didn’t want to. Veronika smirked. How many times had she been blind when she chose not to see the obvious?

Outside, she took a deep breath of the cool evening air. Well, Igor, she thought, you made your choice. Now it’s my turn.

At home, the first thing Veronika did was slip off her shoes and step into her study.

Strangely, her hands no longer trembled. Inside, she felt a profound calm—like the relief that comes when a long fever finally breaks.
“So… where do we begin?” she asked her reflection in the mirror.

She opened her laptop and created a new folder titled New Life. Then she reached for a box of documents from the closet—the one Igor had never even bothered to look at.
“It pays to be cautious,” she murmured.

Inside were the property papers for the house—registered solely in her name. The little fortress she had bought with money from selling her grandmother’s apartment. Back then, Igor had been busy building his business. Verochka, you know every penny is needed for business development right now. I’ll make it up to you later. And she had understood—just as she had understood to keep the house in her name.

Next came the bank accounts. Logging into her online banking, she carefully reviewed the transactions, noting which amounts were entirely hers. Years of financial vigilance were now paying off.

Her phone buzzed—a message from Igor:
Running late at an important meeting. Don’t wait for dinner.

Veronika smiled. An important meeting… Yes, I saw just how important it was.

The next morning, she met with Mikhail Stepanovich, the family lawyer—now her personal lawyer—at the Swallow Café.

“Veronika Alexandrovna, your call last night surprised me,” he admitted.
“Lately, many things have surprised me,” she replied. “Tell me, how quickly can a divorce be finalized if one party owns most of the assets?”
“Pardon?”
“You know the house is in my name, and most of the accounts hold my personal savings. I want to know my rights.”

By the end of the meeting, the lawyer shook his head in admiration. “I’ve never seen a woman so prepared. Most act on emotion.”
“And I don’t want to act on emotion,” she said. “I want to give a very special gift.”

From the café, she went straight to the bank. Three hours later, her plan was in motion.

“We’ll close the main account, transfer the funds to a new account in my name only, and block the cards,” she instructed.
“And your husband?” the manager asked cautiously.
“He can keep his salary card. I think thirty thousand a month is plenty… for important meetings.”

Her next stop was the travel agency.
“I need a trip to Italy—Tuscany, two weeks, the most picturesque places.”
“For two?” the agent asked automatically.
“No. Just for me. And the sooner, the better.”

That evening, Igor was agitated.
“Do you know why our cards are blocked?”
“Really?” she said innocently. “Must be a system glitch.”
“But I needed to pay for—”
“For what, dear? Dinner at a restaurant?”
Igor froze.
“You… you were there?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said lightly.

On the morning of their twentieth wedding anniversary, Veronika woke early, put on her favorite black dress, and styled her hair. Igor came downstairs holding a bouquet of roses.
“Happy anniversary, dear! I reserved a table at—”
“At the Bellagio?” she interrupted.
“No… but—”
“No need. I have a special gift for you.”

She handed him a folder.
“What is this?” he asked, frowning.
“Open it. You’ll see.”

Inside were the divorce papers, confirmation of her sole ownership of the house, and—on top—the receipt from the Bellagio.
“I thought it was only right that I paid for our last dinner together,” she said calmly.
“You can’t do this!” he shouted.
“Oh, I can. And I am.”

As she walked toward the door with her suitcase, Igor’s voice shook.
“Where are you going?”
“To Tuscany. Remember? I always dreamed of going there.” She turned back with a small smile. “You know what’s funny? If it weren’t for your meeting, I might never have had the courage to change my life.”

Outside, a taxi was waiting.
“To the airport?” the driver asked.
“Yes,” Veronika said, her smile widening. “To a new life.”