My home is solely mine; I’ve worked hard for it.

When I met my husband, Thomas, I was in my thirties. I had been in relationships with men before, but none were fruitful. From the age of 26 to 30, I took a break and worked tirelessly as a single woman, putting in long hours day and night. I labored like a horse to earn more money, saving diligently for a house that I eventually purchased. I felt a great sense of pride; for my entire life, I could rely solely on myself. Two years later, I met my husband.

If I were to say we experienced a whirlwind romance, that wouldn’t be quite accurate. Can there truly be a fairytale love after thirty? It’s hard to say. I simply wished for a calm and comfortable life, preferably with a man who wouldn’t bring additional complications. In a word, Thomas appeared to be just that—steady, moderate, and cheerful. I welcomed him into my home, and he was more than agreeable about it.

Besides, not every man is fortunate enough to meet a woman who already has her own home. I managed to buy my dream place to live without taking out a mortgage or having to pay monthly installments.

This is how we lived for seven years; we didn’t have children. I was extremely busy with work, much like my husband. After long days, we would return home exhausted and simply go to bed. I can’t deny that I thought about having a child on several occasions, but I kept telling myself it could wait, especially since these days, women are having children even at 45.

A week ago, we were sitting at the table having breakfast when my husband asked me directly when I planned to register him at our address. Thomas wanted to deregister from his mother’s place to cut down on utility bills. I wasn’t keen on this idea; I didn’t want to register anyone else at my home, and I made that clear to him. After all, he could have been saving up to buy his own flat where he could have his own registration. But most of them, living with their parents, don’t think about that. We split the costs of essentials equally while spending the remainder of our salaries as we liked.

Anyway, after that conversation, he left for work and didn’t return home that evening. The next morning, he sent me a text to inform me that he had filed for divorce. I can hardly believe that my husband could do something like this. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him; I just knew that life can throw unexpected curveballs, and there’s no guarantee we would be together forever. I have no intention of sharing my property with anyone. I worked incredibly hard for this home, and it belongs solely to me. If Thomas was with me only because he hoped to gain a share in my assets, then he can certainly go his own way.