Twelve years ago, Ilya Zhirnov and Kira Cherkasova, two young women, ages twenty-five and twenty-two, respectively, disappeared from the city of Cheboksary in central Russia. Nobody knew what had happened to them until the amateur diver found their car at the bottom of the river.
The car had been underwater for almost a decade, according to the authorities.
Identity documents that survived the underwater submersion were used by the authorities to identify the two persons who went missing. Inside the car, the diver discovered two bodies along with the belongings of the young people.
This is a devastating finding, but it may offer new information about the case.
The first theory put up by the police states that nobody saw or reported the couple’s accident to the authorities after they lost control of their automobile on the slippery road and ended up in the river.
However, many are interested in learning how long it will take the authorities to determine with certainty what happened to the two individuals. Will an investigation into this matter be launched?
Is there any chance that this finding may lead to the finding of more clues or evidence that will clarify what happened twelve years ago?
It’s uncertain what more research will reveal for the time being.
It’s uncertain what more research will reveal for the time being.
However, the amateur diver’s discovery indicates that we shouldn’t give up trying to solve our problems. It can be a significant development for individuals searching for information in cases of missing persons or unsolved murders.
Ultimately, this discovery should prompt us to consider the individuals who are still missing and act as a reminder that sometimes the answers are right in front of us.
I Asked My Husband for Money for Office Clothes After Maternity Leave — He Replied, ‘Get a Job as a Cleaner, You Don’t Need Fancy Clothes There’
Sometimes, life hands you lemons in the form of a careless husband. When mine suggested I become a cleaner instead of buying new work clothes, I took his advice. But I did it with a twist he never saw coming.
The worst part about betrayal? It always comes from someone you trust.
I went on maternity leave a year ago, completely devoting myself to our son, Ethan.
A woman holding her baby | Source: Pexels
Late-night feedings, endless diaper changes, keeping our house together, making sure Tyler always had a hot meal waiting after work… I did it all.
And honestly? I didn’t mind. Being a mom was challenging but rewarding in ways my office job never was.
The tiny smiles and the first giggles… they just filled my heart with joy I can never explain in words.
A toddler sitting on the floor | Source: Pexels
But after a year, it was time for me to go back to work. I was actually excited. I missed adult conversations that didn’t revolve around baby food. I missed feeling like more than just a mom.
Except, there was a problem.
“Tyler, none of my work clothes fit anymore,” I said one evening while folding laundry. Ethan was finally down for the night, and Tyler was sitting on the couch.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, holding up a pencil skirt that used to be my go-to office staple. “I mean, my body changed after having your child. I’ve tried everything in my closet, and nothing fits right anymore.”
“So? Just wear something else.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t have anything else. I need to buy a few new outfits for the office.” I sat beside him on the couch. “I was hoping we could use some of our savings for that.”
That’s when he gave me the look that made me feel like I was asking for something out of this world.
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have any idea how much daycare is going to cost?” he asked. “Plus, all the baby expenses? Your job barely covers those costs as it is.”
“It’s just a few outfits, Tyler. I can’t exactly go back to work without clothes.”
That’s when he said it.
“Your job costs us a lot. Just get a job as a cleaner. You don’t need fancy clothes for that.”
I couldn’t believe his words.
Had he really just said that? This man whom I’d been making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for? The one whose laundry I’d been doing? Whose baby I’d been taking care of 24/7 while he continued his career without interruption?
A close-up shot of a woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
“A cleaner?” I repeated.
Tyler shrugged. “It’s practical. Better hours for childcare too.”
I had sacrificed my body, my sleep, and my career momentum for our family. And now, when I needed something basic to continue moving forward, he couldn’t even be bothered to support me.
Instead of yelling at him, I just smiled and said, “You’re right, babe. I’ll figure something out.”
And I did.
But not in the way he expected.
A man in his house | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t about to beg for basic respect or a few new shirts.
Instead, I followed his suggestion and got a job as a cleaner.
But not just anywhere.
I applied at his office.
Tyler works at a prestigious corporate law firm downtown. When I discovered they needed part-time cleaning staff through a job listing online, it felt like the universe was handing me exactly what I needed.
A woman looking for a job on her laptop | Source: Pexels
Within a week, I was hired for the evening shift, which worked perfectly with our childcare situation. My mother was more than happy to watch Ethan for a few hours in the evening, especially when I explained what I was doing. She never did like Tyler much.
The best part? Tyler had no idea.
He assumed I was taking night classes to “improve my skills,” as I’d vaguely mentioned. He never asked for details, which was another sign of how little he actually cared about my aspirations.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
For three weeks, I worked the cleaning shift, making sure to avoid the floor where Tyler’s office was located. I needed to pick the right moment.
The perfect opportunity presented itself when I learned through office gossip that Tyler would be hosting an important client meeting on Wednesday evening.
The cleaning schedule had me on his floor that night, and I made no requests to change it.
Documents on a table | Source: Midjourney
When Wednesday arrived, I walked into his office in my gray uniform, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and wearing minimal makeup.
I pushed my cleaning cart deliberately, the squeaky wheel announcing my presence before I even reached his door.
Tyler was in the middle of presenting something to a group of five people seated around his conference table when I entered to empty the trash bins. I kept my head down initially, methodically going about my work, but I could feel the moment his eyes landed on me.
The confident flow of his presentation stuttered to a halt mid-sentence.
A man standing in a meeting room | Source: Midjourney
“And the quarterly projections show—” His voice cracked. “The projections show that… I’m sorry, excuse me for a second.”
I continued working, moving to the bin beside his desk, feeling his stare burning into my back.
“Marilyn?” he finally spoke up. “What are you doing here?”
I turned and smiled politely. “Oh, hello, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”
The blood drained from his face so quickly I thought he might pass out. Meanwhile, the clients and his colleagues looked between us in confusion.
Men sitting in an office | Source: Pexels
Then, one of his coworkers, who had seen me at company events before, spoke up. “Wait, this is your wife? What’s she doing here?”
Tyler stammered. “I… I don’t know. Marilyn, what are you doing?”
I maintained my composure, standing straight with dignity despite the uniform. “Oh, I just took my husband’s wonderful advice! He suggested that since my old job was too costly with childcare and professional clothing, being a cleaner would be more practical. No dress code to worry about. To be honest, it’s actually been quite educational.”
The room fell silent.
Every eye turned to Tyler, whose face had now gone from pale to flushed with embarrassment.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
His boss, Mr. Calloway, raised an eyebrow. “Your husband told you to be a cleaner instead of continuing your career?”
I shrugged with an innocent smile. “Well, he said my previous job was too expensive because I needed new clothes after having our baby. He thought this would be a better fit for me.”
Mr. Calloway’s expression hardened as he looked at Tyler.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
The atmosphere in the room had completely changed.
“Marilyn, can we discuss this at home?” Tyler whispered. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Of course,” I replied cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your important meeting. I’ll just finish up here and be on my way. You gentlemen have a wonderful evening.”
As I pushed my cart toward the door, I heard Mr. Calloway say, “Let’s take a fifteen-minute break, shall we?”
That told me Tyler was in for an uncomfortable conversation.
A boss talking to an employee | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t done yet. This was just the beginning.
Over the following weeks, I made sure to be exceptionally diligent at my job. I always cleaned Tyler’s office last, timing it perfectly so his coworkers would still be around wrapping up their day.
I smiled sweetly whenever someone asked about my presence there, and I made a point of thanking Tyler loudly for his “amazing career advice” whenever we crossed paths.
Back-view shot of a woman working as a cleaner | Source: Midjourney
One day, Tyler tried to talk to me about it at home.
“This has gone on long enough,” he insisted. “You’ve made your point. This is embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing for whom?” I asked calmly. “I’m following your suggestion. I thought you’d be proud of me for being so practical.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “It was just a comment. I was stressed about money.”
A man looking down | Source: Midjourney
“Funny how your ‘just comments’ always seem to minimize me and my needs,” I chuckled. “And funnier still how my stress about returning to work professionally wasn’t worth considering, but your stress about money justified belittling my career.”
At that point, Tyler didn’t know that I was having conversations while cleaning offices. Real conversations. With people who saw me as more than just “the cleaner” or “the mom.”
Specifically, Carol from HR had stopped me one evening to chat after finding me reading a legal brief I’d spotted on a desk.
A stack of papers on a desk | Source: Midjourney
After learning about my background in corporate communications and the circumstances that led me to cleaning, she was appalled.
“We actually have an opening in the marketing department,” she told me. “The pay is competitive, and the hours would work with your childcare situation. Would you be interested?”
I was more than interested. I was ready.
The final act in my plan came together at the next company event, where spouses were invited. Tyler had begged me not to attend, claiming we should “leave work at work,” but I insisted.
A man sitting with his head in his hands, worried about his image | Source: Midjourney
I arrived fashionably late, wearing a stunning new navy dress that I’d purchased with my first advance from my new marketing position that would start the following Monday. It was a position that paid significantly more than Tyler’s.
The look on his face when I walked in was worth every second of pushing that cleaning cart. He just stared at me with wide eyes as Carol from HR approached me with a glass of champagne.
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce our newest team member,” Carol announced to the small group near us. “Marilyn will be joining our marketing department on Monday as our new Communications Director. Some of you may have met her already in a different capacity.”
The smirks and raised eyebrows around the circle made it clear everyone understood exactly what “different capacity” meant. Tyler looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Later that evening, Tyler cornered me by the drinks table.
“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?” he hissed.
A man standing in a party | Source: Midjourney
I sipped my champagne calmly. “No, Tyler. You planned it when you decided I wasn’t worth a few new outfits to restart my career. I just adapted to the circumstances you created.”
“It was a joke,” he insisted, his voice desperate. “I was stressed. I didn’t mean for you to actually become a cleaner.”
“And I didn’t mean to discover that my husband values me so little,” I replied. “Yet here we are, both surprised by outcomes we didn’t expect.”
Over the following months, things changed dramatically between us.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Tyler’s position at the firm became increasingly uncomfortable as the story of his “career advice” to his wife became part of company lore. Meanwhile, my role expanded as my talents were recognized. The power dynamic in our marriage shifted noticeably.
Tyler tried to apologize repeatedly.
He bought me clothes, jewelry, and even a new car, but it didn’t work.
A man holding car keys | Source: Pexels
You see, the moment he made me feel like I wasn’t worth basic respect was the moment something fundamental broke between us.
Now, six months later, my closet is filled with clothes that fit the woman I’ve become.
Meanwhile, Tyler has lost his job. He’s apologized more times than I can count, but no amount of regret can erase the moment he made me feel small, the moment he dismissed my worth so easily.
And now, the choice is mine. Do I forgive him and give our marriage another chance? Or is it time to walk away for good?
What would you do?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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