Marina carefully placed the last shirt in Alexey’s suitcase. Over many years of marriage, packing her husband for business trips had become a special ritual she performed with great care.
“Don’t forget the laptop adapter,” she reminded him as she zipped up the suitcase.
Alexey glanced at his watch, clearly nervous.
“Thanks, darling. It’s time— the taxi’s already waiting.”
He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed the suitcase, and headed for the door.
“Call me when you arrive!” Marina shouted after him.
“Of course!” came his reply through the closing door.
Walking to the window, she watched the car carry her husband away. His haste felt odd; their farewells were usually warmer and more leisurely. She brushed off the thought—he was probably just worried about the upcoming meeting.
The apartment instantly felt empty and cold. To distract herself, Marina decided to visit the Meridian shopping mall and finally pick up a few things she’d been planning to buy.
A couple of hours later, laden with bags, she walked through the mall. She’d intended to have lunch at her favorite café on the third floor, but just then her phone rang—a colleague suggested meeting at the Almond restaurant on the second floor to try its new menu.
Marina agreed; the restaurant was right there, and she liked the atmosphere even if she rarely visited.
As she came up to the second floor, she could already make out the interior through Almond’s large windows. Then her feet seemed to glue themselves to the floor: at a window‑side table sat Alexey. Opposite him was a young woman Marina had never seen. They leaned toward each other, chatting animatedly. The woman laughed, lightly touching his hand, and in Alexey’s eyes Marina saw an expression she hadn’t seen in a long time.
Time froze. Her heart stopped, and her vision blurred. The man supposedly on a flight to Novosibirsk was lunching with another woman.
Her first impulse was to storm in and demand answers. Something—pride, maybe fear—held her back. Taking a deep breath, Marina slowly turned and walked away.
With trembling fingers she canceled lunch with her colleague and called her best friend.
“Lena, can you meet me? Right now,” she said, her voice shaking.
“What’s happened?” Lena asked, alarmed.
“I just saw Alexey with some woman in a restaurant. He’s supposed to be on a plane.”
“Where are you?”
“At Meridian.”
“Wait for me at the Aquarelle café on the first floor. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Marina sat in a corner, absent‑mindedly stirring her cooling tea. Questions raced through her mind. Who was the woman? How long had this been going on? Had Alexey ever gone on those trips? The midnight calls, the late nights at work, the new phone password…
“Marina!” Lena’s voice snapped her back. She sat down opposite and squeezed Marina’s hands.
“Tell me everything.”
Marina recounted the scene, trying to control her voice.
“I don’t know what to do, Lena. Part of me doesn’t even want to know the truth.”
“What if it isn’t what it looks like? There might be an explanation.”
Marina gave a bitter smile. “What explanation fits a man who lies about a business trip and lunches with another woman?”
“I don’t know,” Lena admitted. “But before you decide, maybe learn more first?”
“How? Ask him outright?”
Lena thought. “What if we just follow them? See where they go.”
Spying on her husband felt humiliating, yet the uncertainty hurt worse. Marina nodded.
They took cover in the bookstore opposite the restaurant, pretending to browse. Forty minutes later Alexey and his companion emerged. The woman was an elegant brunette, around thirty, with a flawless figure.
“They’re heading out,” Lena whispered.
Keeping their distance, they followed. Outside, the woman got into a taxi. Alexey helped her in, they exchanged a quick handshake—nothing more—and the taxi pulled away. Alexey stayed on the lot, phoned someone, then took a cab himself.
“Let’s follow him,” Marina said.
Their taxi trailed Alexey’s to the Aquamarine business center—home to his company’s office. Inside, they saw him talking tensely with the receptionist before vanishing into his boss’s office.
“Maybe the trip was canceled last minute,” Lena suggested.
“Then who’s the woman? And why no call?”
They waited. Half an hour later Alexey left with a folder and headed downstairs. Marina and Lena ducked behind a column, then raced for a taxi.
“Home,” Marina told the driver. She guessed right: Alexey’s cab dropped him at their building. Marina let Lena go and went up alone.
Alexey sat in the kitchen, staring at his laptop.
“Marina! You’re home?” He looked genuinely surprised.
“As you see,” she replied coolly. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?”
He tensed. “The trip was canceled at the last minute. I was going to call, but everything was crazy.”
“So crazy you couldn’t send a text?”
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his eyes. Marina sat across from him.
“Who is she, Alexey?”
“Who?” He frowned.
“The woman you lunched with at Almond.”
He turned pale. “You were following me?”
“No. I saw you by chance.”
Silence stretched. At last he spoke: “It’s not what you think.”
“What am I supposed to think? You said you were flying out, yet you’re having lunch with some woman!”
“Her name is Anna Viktorovna. She represents German investors.”
“And that’s why you lied about the trip?”
“I didn’t lie. The trip was canceled when I was already at the airport. My boss called—an investor was passing through town for one day. I had to meet her.”
“Why not tell me?”
He hesitated. “Because… it wasn’t just a routine meeting.”
Marina’s heart tightened. “I knew it.”
“No— not like that! My boss told me: if I convinced her to sign a deal on special terms, I’d be promoted to commercial director.”
“And you couldn’t even text?”
“I wanted to surprise you if it worked out. If it didn’t, why upset you?”
“Did it work?” Marina asked.
Alexey smiled. “Yes. She signed a preliminary agreement. The main delegation comes next month.”
She still doubted him. He opened the folder: inside was the agreement, signed by Anna Viktoria Müller. Then he produced a velvet box—inside lay a sapphire necklace Marina had admired.
“I bought this last week, planning to give it to you tonight—along with the news.”
Her anger ebbed, yet one question lingered. “Why did you look so happy with her?”
“She accepted our terms—it was relief, nothing more.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re the only woman in my life. My trips are real.”
She wanted to believe. “Can I ask a couple of questions?”
“Of course.”
“What did you eat?”
“She had the house salad and steak with truffle sauce. I had the fish platter.”
“What else did you talk about?”
“Russian culture—she loves ballet.”
His answers came smoothly. The tension eased. They ordered pizza, opened wine, and soon the evening felt normal again.
When Alexey showered, Marina peeked at his phone—the password was still their wedding date. Nothing suspicious. The early‑morning call from his boss was there.
Hearing Alexey hum their favorite song, she realized maybe the real issue was routine; they’d stopped surprising each other.
Next morning she woke early, made breakfast, and kissed him awake.
“I’ve got a surprise. I took today off—and you should too.”
“What for?” he mumbled.
“A little ‘business trip’—just us, no phones.” She handed him two train tickets to the country resort where they’d spent their first anniversary.
He beamed. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you too—and I’m done checking your phone.”
“So you did spy on me!” he laughed. She tossed a pillow at him, laughing as well.
Sometimes, she thought, you just have to trust—and sometimes, you have to make the first move to rekindle the spark.
A week later Marina found a postcard from Cologne in the mailbox:
“Dear Marina,
Your husband spoke warmly of you during our meeting. The chocolate he chose for you is a specialty of our family factory. I hope you enjoy it.
Sincerely,
Anna Müller.”
Alongside was a sleek box of chocolates. Marina smiled and set it aside until Alexey came home—she had a suitcase to pack; tomorrow’s trip was real, and she’d help him again.
