That evening, Anna spent quite some time at the stove, carefully stirring the boiling Solyanka. It was a dish that her husband Sergey especially loved. Each time she prepared it, she followed a special recipe passed down from her grandmother. Three types of meat, pickled mushrooms, and of course, the warmth of feelings made this dish truly special. The children had already gone to bed, and outside the window, the first gentle snowfall quietly hinted at the upcoming winter holidays. She hummed an old melody to herself, imagining how Sergey would return from a corporate event and appreciate her care.
Their story began twenty years ago. Having met on the benches of university—she in the philology department, he in economics—they quickly found each other. They married in their final year, and their life together started from a dorm, then moved to a small room in a communal apartment. Sergey began his career as a simple manager, while Anna worked as an editor at a small publishing house. The birth of their daughter Masha, and soon after, their son Dimka, only strengthened their bond. Together, they overcame difficulties, celebrated successes, and supported each other in all endeavors.
Now their life looked impeccable: a spacious apartment in the center of Kazan, a personal car, and the opportunity to travel abroad. Sergey had reached the heights, becoming the commercial director of a major company, and Anna had opened her own children’s publishing house. However, something elusive had recently changed. Sergey started staying late at work more often, talked less about his days, and almost stopped showing the usual affection…
«Mom, is Dad coming home today?» Masha, fourteen, asked before going to sleep. «Of course, dear. He just has an important event—they’re celebrating a successful project completion.»
It’s unknown why Anna suddenly decided to go to the restaurant. Perhaps it was a call from Lena, Sergey’s company accountant, that caused alarm: «Anya, you should… come. Just see for yourself.»
The «Panorama» restaurant was located on the twentieth floor of a new business center, offering stunning views of the city. Ascending in the elevator, Anna adjusted her hair in front of the mirrored wall. At forty-two, she remained slim, always well-groomed, with a soft smile and attentive brown eyes.
Loud music and laughter emanated from the banquet hall. Stopping at the threshold, she froze, hearing a familiar voice: «My homebody wife is at home making solyanka!» laughed Sergey, embracing a young blonde in a red dress that hugged every line of her figure. «And here we are, Lenochka, living life to the fullest!»
The young woman’s ringing laugh, the approving exclamations of colleagues, and the clinking of glasses created an unnatural buzz around them. Anna watched Sergey, but at that moment, he seemed utterly alien to her—with flushed cheeks, shining eyes, and this… Lena from the marketing department, pressed so close to him that only a sheet of paper could slide between them.
Victoria Pavlovna, the head of security, was the first to notice her. Her gaze changed instantly, as if she had seen a ghost. She whispered something to her neighbor, and an invisible wave seemed to roll through the room—people fell silent, turned away, deliberately pretending it didn’t concern them.
«Seryozha,» Anna said in a quiet voice that surprised her with its evenness. Sergey turned around, and his face began to change before her eyes: from joyously drunk to bewildered, then irritated, and soon angry. «Ah, you’ve shown up! Decided to play detective?» «No, dear,» Anna replied, amazed at her own calm. «I just thought you might enjoy the solyanka you’re currently laughing about.»
She took out a container of hot soup and placed it on the edge of the table. Lena in the red dress backed away, trying to dissolve among the crowd of colleagues like an invisible person.
«Sorry to interrupt your celebration,» Anna addressed the quieted hall. «Please, continue enjoying.»
Without looking back, she turned and headed for the exit. Behind her, the sound of a chair being overturned rang out, someone spoke anxiously, but she didn’t allow herself to stop.
In the elevator, Anna spent twenty floors looking at her reflection in the mirrored surface. Her eyes were dry. She saw before her a woman who had endured all trials, whom life had taught to be strong. A woman who had spent twenty years making her beloved husband’s favorite solyanka, giving birth to children, standing by him in all his victories and failures, loving unconditionally…
At home, Anna first went to the kitchen and poured the contents of the container into the sink. Each drop fell with a dull thump, echoing in her head. Twenty years… Twenty years of devotion, warmth, fidelity—all collapsed for a young girl in a bright outfit.
Masha came out of her room, tousled, in pajamas with cute kittens: «Mom, why are you home already? And where’s Dad?» «Dad… will be a bit delayed,» Anna replied, trying to keep her smile. «Go to sleep, dear.» «Did something happen?» The daughter looked intently at her mother, sensing that something more lay behind the simple phrases. «Come here,» Anna embraced her, inhaling the scent of her hair, so familiar and comforting. «Sometimes life gives us surprises that are hard to accept. But we’re strong, right?» Masha nodded, pressing closer to her mother: «Is it because of that woman from Dad’s office?» Anna pulled back, surprised by her daughter’s words: «How did you know?» «Last month, I accidentally went to Dad’s work…» Masha lowered her eyes. «I saw them sitting in a café. He was stroking her head, just like he used to do with me…»
The pain squeezed her heart—not just for herself, but for her daughter. What was it like for her to carry this burden all this time, silently enduring the weight of the truth?
«I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,» Masha whispered, looking down. «I was afraid it would hurt you.» «You’re not to blame at all, dear,» Anna kissed her on the crown of her head. «It’s not your fault.»
Sergey returned late into the night, when the clock was already ticking the first minutes of a new day. Anna had sat in the kitchen all this time, immersed in old family photos. Of course, tears were inevitable—because it’s normal for a person experiencing such pain.
«Well, are you satisfied?» His voice sounded hoarse, he leaned against the door frame. The smell of alcohol and foreign perfumes wafted from him. «You staged a whole show in front of the entire staff!» «You staged the show, Seryozha,» she methodically gathered the photos into a neat stack, maintaining outward calm. «And it lasted not one month, but perhaps even years.» «What did you expect?» He slumped into a chair indifferently. «Do you think it’s interesting to come home every evening to cook dinners and talk about kids or bills? Lena is young, energetic; with her, you can discuss art, go to the theater…»
«And with me, you can’t anymore?» Anna bitterly smiled. «Remember how we met? At a performance of ‘The Cherry Orchard.’ You then declared that theater was boring, but for my sake, you were willing to endure it. And then we walked around the city all night, arguing about Chekhov…»
Sergey averted his gaze, as if trying to avoid this avalanche of memories: «That was a long time ago.» «Yes, a long time,» she agreed. «But the worst thing is not that you had a mistress. The worst thing is that you turned our life, our love, into a banal mockery of something sacred, into a story about solyanka.»
She stood up, straightened her back, as if preparing for the final word: «I’m filing for divorce, Seryozha. Live with whomever you want, go to the theater, enjoy art. Just don’t involve the kids in this story, okay? Especially Masha. She’s already endured enough.»
«What do you mean?» his eyebrows furrowed. «In the most direct sense. She saw you with Lena. Saw her father, who always taught her to be honest, turned into a betrayer.»
These words hit him harder than any coffee. His face paled, his hands clutched at his head: «My God… Masha knew?» «Now you feel ashamed?» Anna shook her head. «Too late, Seryozha. Much too late.»
The divorce went quickly and relatively peacefully. Sergey, realizing the impact his actions had on his daughter, did not obstruct the process. He left the apartment to Anna and the children, agreed to pay alimony, helped with the division of the business—her publishing house remained entirely hers.
The hardest part was dealing with loneliness. At night, Anna woke up out of habit, reaching for the empty half of the bed. Mechanically she prepared for four, took out two cups for morning coffee, though they were no longer needed. Each such gesture reminded her that life would never be the same, but it was in these details that she found the strength to move forward.
Salvation for Anna became immersing herself in work. She focused entirely on publishing projects, launching a new series of books for teenagers. To her surprise, Masha showed a keen interest in editing and began helping her mother after lessons.
«Mom, why don’t we create a book about divorce?» the daughter once suggested. «So other children understand: it’s not the end of the world, and they’re not to blame for anything.»
Anna hugged Masha, amazed at her maturity and wisdom. Dimka also found his ways to offer support: learned to cook eggs for breakfast, managed homework independently, and asked less often for new toys.
Half a year after the separation, fate brought Anna together with her first love—Pavel Nikolaevich, who was now a renowned children’s writer. He stopped by the publishing house to discuss the release of his new book.
«You haven’t changed a bit,» he said, examining her through the lenses of stylish glasses. «Still as attractive as ever.»
«Really? You say that without embarrassment?» she laughed. «There are wrinkles now, and my hair is no longer as black…»
«I notice something else entirely,» Pavel shook his head. «I see the sparkle in your eyes, a genuine smile, inner dignity. You’ve become even more beautiful than in your youth.»
Their relationship started with business meetings, but gradually evolved into something more. They went to the theater (the very one where she once met Sergey), walked in the evenings around the city, discussing everything. Pavel proved to be an attentive, tactful person with a great sense of humor. The children didn’t accept him immediately, but his sincerity and respect for their feelings did their job.
A year later, Anna learned that Lena had left Sergey for a young IT specialist. This information didn’t bring joy or sorrow—just the realization that life always puts everything in its place.
One Sunday, they made solyanka—now by their own, special recipe. Snow fell outside, Pavel read chapters from his new book to Dimka in the living room, and the air was filled with the aroma of spices and comfort.
«You know, Mom,» Masha said unexpectedly, carefully slicing a lemon into thin wedges, «I used to think that love was like in fairy tales: meet a prince and live happily ever after. Now I understand: real love is based primarily on mutual respect. For oneself, for a partner, for the feelings of close people.»
Anna looked at her daughter—so grown up, wise beyond her years—and her heart filled with pride and warmth.
«And one more thing,» Masha added with a smile. «Love isn’t just about cooking soups. It’s about making them joyfully for those who truly appreciate not just the food, but the person who prepared it.»
Anna responded with a smile. Yes, life doesn’t end with betrayal. It gives a new chance to those who continue to believe in love, maintain their dignity, and the ability to forgive—not for others, but for themselves.
Now she knew for sure: happiness isn’t about being with someone. Happiness is about being oneself, loving oneself, and giving love to those who deserve it. And solyanka… Well, now it’s just a tasty soup. One of many recipes of life, where the most important ingredient is love for oneself and the ability to start anew.
