My 35th birthday started like a fairy tale – a beautiful celebration with family, friends and my husband Sergey, who organised the whole event. Balloons swayed in the wind, children laughed playing by the lake and the smell of fried burgers filled the air. It was one of those rare moments that seemed perfect. Or maybe it just seemed that way to me.
Sergei had always been a pillar in our 12-year marriage. He worked as a financial analyst, often joking that he was ‘married to spreadsheets’ while I combined freelance design with taking care of our two children, Masha and Arina. We were a team. Or at least I thought we were. But this sunny day ruined everything.
As I admired the tall chocolate cake Masha was helping to decorate, I asked Sergei to hand me a knife. He didn’t answer, engrossed in his phone.
Sergei? – I repeated louder.
‘Huh? Oh, sorry, I’ll get it right away,’ he replied, tucking the phone into his pocket with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Something was off, but I figured it was probably stress or work.
After a few minutes, Sergei moved away from the company altogether. Curiosity took over, and I followed him, trying to stay at a distance. Then I heard him talking on the phone in a low, strained voice.
I can’t now. Don’t you understand? It’s her birthday. Why are you angry? Okay, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Our usual place.
His words hit me like a thunderclap. ‘The usual place’? Who is he talking to? A few minutes later, he returned to his guests, a smile on his face. Then, as if nothing had happened, he announced:
‘I’ve got a work emergency. I have to go.
Work? Really? On my birthday? – The words were on my tongue, but I held back. Instead, I watched him get into the car and made a decision-I would follow him.
Sergei’s car was easily recognisable. I kept my distance, gripping the steering wheel tightly until my fingers turned white. He drove toward the city, but the office stayed in the opposite direction. My heart pounded frantically as he turned onto quiet streets with high-rise buildings.
Finally, he stopped – in front of our house. I was completely confused. Why was he coming home? I parked at the bottom of the street and waited, but he wouldn’t come out. Something was obviously wrong.
I walked quietly into the house, my heart pounding in my chest. From the living room came muffled laughter, rapid clicking, and the sounds of a video game. Peeking around the corner, I saw Sergei on the couch with a headset on his head, completely immersed in the glowing screen.
He wasn’t dealing with urgent work issues. He was playing video games.
My first sense of relief – that it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared – was quickly replaced by anger. He lied to me, left my birthday party, and hid out to play. But just when I was ready to lash out with recriminations, I had an idea.
I called our neighbour, Elena – beautiful, sociable, always ready to help.
Lena,’ I began in an anxious tone, ’I think I forgot to lock our door when I left for the holiday. Can you check?
Five minutes later, Lena entered the house. I stayed in the shadows, and my anger only grew stronger as I watched their conversation.
Sergei? – Her soft voice echoed in the room. Sergei immediately took off his headset, smiling warmly.
Hi, you came,’ he said, a strange tenderness in his tone.
Their conversation seemed simple at first, but it soon took on a quality that made my heart squeeze. Sergei leaned toward her, called her ‘beloved,’ and kissed her. It wasn’t a friendly kiss, but a real, intimate kiss.
My heart broke. This wasn’t just a video game. This was betrayal.
With trembling hands, I took a few pictures on my phone and then stepped out of hiding. My footsteps made them recoil from each other, their faces frozen in shock and panic.
So, are you comfortable? – I said coldly, crossing my arms over my chest.
Anya… wait, I’ll explain everything,’ Sergei mumbled, taking a step towards me.
Will you explain? – I showed him the pictures on my phone. – What exactly are you going to explain, Sergei? The part where you left my birthday party to sneak around with our neighbour, or the part where you called me a ‘stupid wife’?
Anya, you’ve got it all wrong! – he shouted, desperation sounding in his voice. – It’s not what you think!
Really? Because it looks like you’re cheating on me with Lena,’ I turned to my roommate, adding sarcastically, ’And you, Lena, are just fine. Neighbour of the year, no less.
Anya, I… I didn’t mean to…’ Lena began, stammering.
Oh, really? I don’t care. You can have him,’ I spat out. – You can play your games all you want. I’m done with this.
Wait! Don’t do this! – Sergei begged, his face white as chalk.
I raised my hand to stop him.
We’re getting a divorce, Sergei. And believe me, you’ll regret it.
Without another word, I left the house, heavy-hearted but determined. That day I realised what strength it took to walk away, and that I deserved so much more than Sergei could ever give me.
