I can’t live like this anymore,» Sergey’s words sounded like thunder out of a clear sky. Nastya froze with an unwashed plate in her hands, unable to believe her ears.
Ten years of marriage crumbled like a house of cards from one short phrase.
«What do you mean—can’t live?» Her voice trembled, though she was trying with all her might to appear calm. The water continued to flow from the faucet, creating a strange background noise for the unfolding drama.
Sergey stood in the kitchen doorway, avoiding her gaze. His fingers nervously fidgeted with the strap of his wristwatch—a gift from Nastya on her birthday the day before.
«I met someone else. Her name is Olga. She… she understands me better.»
Nastya felt the ground give way beneath her feet. Her head rang and a treacherous lump formed in her throat.
«Understands you better? And what about ten years of life together? What about our plans, our dreams, our shared future?»
«Forgive me. I’ve already packed my things,» Sergey said quietly, as if apologizing, yet his voice lacked any real remorse.
Her first impulse was to scream, to shatter that damned plate, to throw a tantrum. But Nastya only slowly wiped her hands on a towel and turned to her husband: «And how long have you been with her?»
«Three months. Nastya, I didn’t mean to hurt you.»
«Of course you didn’t mean to. You simply decided to secretly start an affair, and then confronted me with the fact,» bitter irony in her words was sharper than any knife.
The next day, her mother-in-law called. Nastya naively hoped to hear some supportive words—after all, Lydia Pavlovna had called her daughter for so many years.
«Nastenka, I know everything,» her mother-in-law said in a tone that sounded unusually formal. «Sergey told me everything. You know, anything can happen in life. If he left—it means it was meant to be.»
Nastya felt as if another dose of poison was added to the bitterness of her husband’s betrayal.
«Lydia Pavlovna, are you serious? Your son betrayed me for three months!»
«My dear, men don’t just leave like that. It must mean you did something wrong. Maybe you didn’t cook the right kind of borscht? Or maybe you didn’t give him enough attention?»
Nastya choked on her indignation: So, if he betrayed the family—it’s my fault?
«Why dramatize it so? Olga is a good girl, from a respectable family. And by the way, she’s younger than you. Sergey will be better off with her.»
«You have no idea how disappointed I am in you,» Nastya said, and for the first time in her life, she hung up without even saying goodbye.
That evening, she sat in the empty apartment, flipping through the family photo album. There they were with Sergey on their wedding day, so happy. A vacation together in Turkey. The New Year’s corporate party. The photographs multiplied before her eyes, turning into blurred spots from tears.
«Nothing,» she whispered as she shut the album. «I will cope. I must cope.»
The first weeks after Sergey’s departure turned into a real nightmare.
Nastya mechanically went to work, prepared food she couldn’t bring herself to eat, and spent long nights staring out the window. The apartment, once cozy, now felt vast and empty.
«Maybe I should call them?» Sometimes a treacherous thought flashed through her mind. But each time she passed by the neighbor’s entrance—where her mother-in-law lived—she remembered those words about “the wrong kind of borscht” and stubbornly pressed her lips together.
Changes began unexpectedly. One rainy Tuesday, her boss called her into his office.
«Anastasia Vladimirovna, we’re launching a new project. We need a competent department head. I was thinking of you.»
Nastya blinked in confusion: «But I have no experience.»
«Yet you have brains and character. I’ve been watching you. Especially over the last few months—many would have broken down, but you held on.»
A week later, at the supermarket, she overheard two neighbors talking: «Did you hear? Our Sergey is in trouble! His young beauty is out with some businessman. They say he caught them together the other day.»
Time passed, and Nastya’s life indeed began to change.
«You’re like a reborn person,» one colleague remarked. «I’ve never seen you so energetic.»
And then something unexpected happened.
Late in the evening, the doorbell rang. Standing on the doorstep was a tearful Lydia Pavlovna.
«Nastenka, forgive this old fool,» she sobbed. «Sergey is completely lost. That Olga… she kicked him out. It turns out she was having a fling with some wealthy man. And now my son is drinking, having trouble at work.»
Nastya silently looked at her once formidable mother-in-law, who now appeared as a pitiable old woman.
«He constantly remembers you. He says what a fool he was. Perhaps… perhaps you’ll forgive him? You’ve lived together for so many years.»
«Please, come in,» Nastya said, stepping aside. «Would you like some tea?»
Over tea, Lydia Pavlovna continued to weep: «He’s completely changed. He’s renting an apartment in a residential neighborhood, struggling financially. And you… you’ve blossomed. I keep wondering—how could I have taken his side back then?»
Nastya stirred sugar into her cup, watching the spoon create a small whirlpool. It was just like the whirlpool of emotions raging inside her.
The next day, Nastya could barely sleep. Her mother-in-law’s words echoed in her head, forcing her to replay the events of the past few months again and again. She turned on the nightlight and approached the window. The city shimmered with lights, indifferent to her torment.
Then the doorbell rang. At the threshold stood Sergey—disheveled, with red eyes.
«May I come in?» His voice sounded hoarse.
Nastya silently stepped aside. Sergey entered the corridor, awkwardly pacing.
«You’ve changed,» he finally said.
«And you haven’t,» she replied calmly.
«Nastya, I was an idiot. A complete moron. Olga… she just used me. All along, she had a wealthy lover. And I…»
«And you thought you’d found something better?» Nastya bitterly smirked. «You know what’s the funniest part? I must thank you.»
Sergey looked at her in bewilderment.
«If it weren’t for your betrayal, I would have never understood what I was truly worth. I wouldn’t have started growing, I wouldn’t have gotten that promotion. I wouldn’t be who I am today.»
«I’ve finally understood everything, Nastya. Let’s start over. I swear, never again…»
«No, Serge,» she shook her head. «You know what I’ve realized over these months? Love isn’t just about feelings. It’s about respect, loyalty, and support. All the things you trampled on.»
«But we were together for so many years.»
«We were together. Now I’ve learned to be happy on my own. And you know what? I like this new me.»
Sergey sank onto the couch, clasping his head in his hands.
«What should I do, Nastya? I’ve lost everything. My job, you, my parents’ respect…»
«Start by stopping your self-pity,» she smiled for the first time that evening. «You made your choice. Now live with it.»
When the door closed behind Sergey, Nastya felt an extraordinary lightness. As if the last thread tying her to the past had finally snapped.
The next day she signed a contract to buy a new apartment.
In the very same building where Lydia Pavlovna lived—one floor above. The realtor raised her eyebrows in surprise when Nastya insisted on that option.
«Are you sure? There are similar apartments in other areas.»
«Absolutely sure,» Nastya declared with a bold signature. «Sometimes you need to confront your fears. Every day.»
That evening, she received a message from her mother: «Darling, maybe you should give Serge a chance? He’s so remorseful…»
Nastya typed back: «Mom, I finally understood one important thing. You can’t let others define your worth. And you know what? I’m worth far more than a backup plan.»
The move into the new apartment coincided with a significant phase in Nastya’s career.
On the day of her presentation, she wore that very red dress. Passing by Lydia Pavlovna by the entrance, she noticed the old lady averting her eyes.
«Good morning,» Nastya said loudly on purpose.
The mother-in-law flinched, but replied with a restrained nod.
In the office, tension reigned. Colleagues whispered, discussing the upcoming meeting. The investor, Andrey Mikhailovich Severov, was notorious for his exacting standards and blunt assessments.
«Are you ready?» the boss asked, peering into the meeting room.
Nastya straightened her shoulders.
«More than ready.»
The presentation went off like clockwork. Nastya felt an unprecedented confidence as she answered every question clearly and succinctly. Severov listened intently, making notes in his notebook.
«Impressive,» he said after she finished. «Especially your risk analysis. Have you been in business long?»
«Honestly, this is my first project as a department head.»
«That makes it even more interesting. I suggest we discuss the details over lunch.»
At the restaurant, the conversation unexpectedly transcended business. Andrey turned out to be an engaging conversationalist with a wonderful sense of humor.
«You know,» he admitted, «I rarely meet people who combine professionalism with genuine sincerity.»
Nastya felt her cheeks flush.
«I’m simply doing what I believe is right.»
«That’s exactly what wins people over.»
On her way home, she encountered Sergey at the entrance. He looked even more disheveled than before.
«Do you live here now?» he asked in a low tone.
«Yes. Any problems?»
«Why? Do you want to finish me off completely?»
«No, Serge. I want to remind myself every day that I will no longer allow anyone to consider me less than enough.»
A flash of understanding crossed his eyes.
«You truly have changed.»
«And you’re still clinging to the past,» she said, producing her keys. «Goodbye, Sergey.»
As she ascended in the elevator, Nastya reflected on how strangely life is arranged. Sometimes you must lose everything in order to find your true self.
Six months passed in what felt like a single day.
The project took off and proved extraordinarily successful, and the professional tone with Severov soon shifted into dating. Andrey turned out to be completely different from Sergey.
One evening, returning from dinner, they encountered Lydia Pavlovna in the entrance hall. She gave them a long, assessing look.
«Nastya, may I have a word?» her mother-in-law’s voice sounded unusually gentle.
«I’ll wait in the car,» Andrey said tactfully.
They ascended to Lydia Pavlovna’s floor.
«I must apologize,» she began, fiddling with the edge of her blouse. «All these years I was unfair to you. I thought you weren’t good enough for Serge, but it turns out…»
«That he wasn’t good enough for me?» Nastya finished.
«Yes. You know, he never really grew up. Drinks, changes jobs. And you… you’ve blossomed.»
Nastya looked at her once imposing mother-in-law, now appearing small and lost.
«You know, Lydia Pavlovna, I’ve long since forgiven you. You loved your son and wanted what was best for him. It’s just that sometimes our ideas of ‘the best’ turn out to be mistaken.»
«Does that man treat you well?»
«Yes. But the main thing is—I finally treat myself well.»
That evening, lying in bed, Nastya reread old journals. The entries from just six months ago were filled with pain and despair. How much had changed since then.
The phone chimed with a message from Andrey: «Good night, my strong woman.»
Nastya smiled. Yes, she had indeed become strong. And it wasn’t just about career success or a new relationship. The most important thing was that she had learned to value herself, her desires, and her dreams.
The next morning, as she passed by the old apartment where she and Sergey once lived, she didn’t even look back. The past was behind her, and ahead lay a new life—bright, full of meaning and love. And above all—love for herself.
