Home is solely mine; I’ve worked tirelessly for it.

When I met my husband, Thomas, I was in my thirties. I had experienced relationships with men before, but none of them worked out. From the age of 26 to 30, I took a break from dating and dedicated myself to my career as a single woman, working day and night. I labored incessantly to earn more money, saving diligently for the home I ultimately purchased. I felt immensely proud of this achievement; throughout my life, I had relied solely on myself. Two years later, I met my husband.

It’s not accurate to say we shared an extraordinary bond or a passionate love. Can genuine romance be found after thirty? It’s hard to say. I simply wanted to live a calm, comfortable life alongside a man who wouldn’t bring extra troubles. In straightforward terms, Thomas seemed to embody just that: peaceful, steady, and cheerful; I welcomed him into my home, and he had no objections.

Moreover, not every man is fortunate enough to meet a woman who already owns her own house. I was able to purchase my dream home without taking out a mortgage or worrying about monthly repayments.

For seven years, we lived this way, without children. We were both deeply engrossed in our work. After our long days, we would return home exhausted and simply collapse into bed. I won’t deny that I occasionally thought about having a child, but I kept telling myself that there was always time, especially since women today can have children even at 45.

A week ago, while having breakfast at the table, my husband asked me directly when I planned to register him at my address. Thomas wanted to change his registration from his mother’s house to mine to reduce his utility bills. I didn’t like this idea; I didn’t want to register anyone at my home and made my feelings clear. He could save his money and buy his own flat, where he could be registered, but most men living with their mothers don’t think that way. We shared expenses evenly for essentials, while we spent the rest of our salaries as we pleased.

Anyway, after that conversation, he left for work, and he didn’t return home that evening. The next morning, he sent me a text stating he had filed for divorce. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that my husband could do such a thing. My reluctance to register him wasn’t due to a lack of trust; rather, life can throw unexpected challenges our way, and there’s no guarantee we would stay together forever. I have no intention of sharing my property with anyone. I worked incredibly hard for that house, and it is entirely mine. If Thomas was with me only for a stake in my asset, then he can go his own way.