‘Because that’s exactly what happened. My wife… well, more like my soon-to-be ex. She said she didn’t need me anymore. That she’s got a better man now.’
I tensed. All too familiar words.
‘And you just left?’
‘What else could I have done? Made a scene? Asked? Begged?’ he shrugged. ‘People sometimes leave long before they close the door behind them.’
Those words seemed to cut right through me. I thought back over the last few months. Andrei’s coldness. His constant aloofness. The phone he was almost never without.
He’d already left, hadn’t he? It was just that I didn’t want to admit it until the very end.
‘And you… have you known about this for a long time?’ Sergei asked suddenly, looking intently into my face.
‘About what?’
‘About the fact that your husband has another woman.’
My breath caught in my throat.
‘How do you…’
He exhaled heavily and lowered his eyes.
‘Because… I know him.’
The kitchen grew so quiet that I could hear water dripping in the sink.
‘What do you mean, you know him?’
‘We crossed paths at work.’ Not friends, nothing like that… But I saw him. With her.
Those words hung between us like a death sentence.
‘Where?’ My voice sounded like a stranger’s.
‘In a restaurant. A week ago. They didn’t even try to hide. She was laughing… and he was looking at her as if…’ He fell silent.
‘As if what?’ I asked sharply.
‘As if she’s everything to him.’
I gripped the cup so tightly my fingers turned white.
‘Go on.’
‘I didn’t know then that he had a wife. Until today…’ He cut himself off.
‘Until now?’
Sergei looked up. And there was something in them that sent a chill down my spine.
‘Until I saw you.’
‘Where?’
‘On his phone.’
Inside, everything went blank again.
‘What are you saying?’
‘This afternoon I went to see my… ex. I wanted to talk. And there… he was.’
My heart was pounding wildly.
‘Andrei?’
‘Yes.’
I jumped up so suddenly that the chair scraped across the floor.
‘Are you saying… that your wife…’
He nodded silently.
‘That “L.” who writes to him.’
The world seemed to sway.
The kitchen, the walls, the table, the cups — everything became unreal, as if I were looking at it through a fogged-up window.
‘No…’ I whispered. ‘No, that can’t be…’
‘It can,’ Sergei said quietly. ‘Because she’s my wife.’
I sank back into my chair.
Now it all came together into a single picture. Every little detail. Every strange word. Every pause, every glance, every ‘I’m busy’.
But it didn’t make it any easier.
On the contrary.
I realised: this was only the beginning.
And what lay ahead would be even more painful.
I can hardly remember the rest of that evening. It was all as if shrouded in thick fog. Sergei and I sat opposite each other — two people who’d been betrayed by the very same people.
It seemed absurd.
Almost impossible.
‘Why didn’t you stay there?’ I asked after a while. ‘Why didn’t you make a scene?’
He smiled wryly, but there was more pain than anger in that smile.
‘Why? I walked in… and understood everything straight away. They didn’t even flinch. Do you see? No fear, no guilt, no attempt to explain. It was as if I was the one who was out of place.’
I closed my eyes.
‘Yes… that’s very much like Andrei.’
‘They’ve probably been together for a long time,’ Sergei added quietly.
Every word of his cut straight to the quick.
I stood up and went to the window. Snow was falling slowly outside the pane — calmly, indifferently, as if other people’s lives weren’t crumbling all around the world.
But mine was.
But unexpectedly, instead of a fit of hysteria, a different feeling took hold.
Clarity.
Cold, sharp, almost merciless.
I turned to Sergei.
‘Are they together now?’
‘Yes. They flew out this morning. I overheard part of the conversation.’
I nodded.
‘So, it’s all clear.’
He frowned.
‘Clear?’
‘Yes. They’ve made their choice. Now it’s my turn.’
I walked over to the table, picked up Andrei’s phone and opened the chat again. My fingers weren’t shaking anymore.
‘I hope you’re enjoying yourself there. Don’t worry — there’s nowhere left for you to come back to. I know everything.’
I pressed ‘send’.
And for the first time all day, I was able to breathe properly.
As if a heavy weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders.
— You’re strong, — Sergei said quietly.
I shook my head.
— No. I’m just tired of being convenient.
We fell silent. But now the silence was different. No longer oppressive. Something new had appeared in it. Perhaps calm. Perhaps the first hint of it.
‘What are you going to do next?’ he asked.
I thought for a moment.
‘Live. For real, at last. Without expecting anyone to notice me. Without hoping that anyone will appreciate me. Without trying to earn love.
I looked at him.
‘And you?’
He shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I suppose I’ll start over too.’
I smiled. For the first time that day — sincerely.
‘Then perhaps we should start with something simple?’
He looked at me questioningly.
‘Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow. No lies. No acting. No betrayal. Just like two normal people.’
He nodded almost imperceptibly.
‘It’s a deal.’
Three months have passed.
I filed for divorce. Calmly. No drama. No tears. Andrei rang, texted, tried to explain things. He said he’d ‘got confused’, that he’d ‘made a mistake’, that he ‘didn’t want to lose me’.
But I wasn’t listening anymore.
Because the truth is, people rarely do things like that by accident. More often than not, they simply do what they really want.
I changed jobs. Gradually, I was coming back to myself — the woman I used to be long ago. Before the endless compromises. Before the self-sacrifice. Before the quiet betrayal of myself.
Sergei… he stayed by my side.
Not as a saviour. And not as a replacement for Andrei.
But as a reminder: sometimes what seems like destruction isn’t actually the end.
It’s the beginning.
The beginning of honesty.
The beginning of freedom.
The beginning of a life in which it’s no longer scary to learn the truth.
Because it is the truth… that sets you free.