“Why did you come home so early?!” her husband blurted, instinctively trying to shut the door in his wife’s face.
“What do you mean?” Sveta managed to wedge her bag into the doorway so the door wouldn’t slam. The scene felt like a cheap joke—only this time the “husband back from a business trip” was the wife, Svetlana…
She’d had good reason not to want to leave—she suspected her husband of cheating.
Svetlana had always dreamed of building a career. She worked hard and eventually got the position she wanted. At first, Svetlana’s husband, Gosha, regarded her new post with suspicion.
“And why did they appoint you? Couldn’t they find someone else?”
“Someone like who?”
“Well… a man, for example, or a younger girl…”
“So in your view good positions should go either to men or to young girls? And mature, experienced women should what—be thrown on the scrap heap to see out their days?” Svetlana bristled.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Gosha muttered, embarrassed. He tried to explain, to justify himself, but it didn’t work.
Svetlana took offense and didn’t speak to him for several days. Then she announced she was going to Moscow.
“Why?!”
“They’ve called me to head office. Business.”
“For long?”
“No, a couple of days.”
“Next time tell me in advance! How am I supposed to live by myself?”
“You’ll manage. You’re not a two-year-old. Sausages, pasta, dumplings—those still exist.” Gosha nodded gloomily. Svetlana left, but that was only the beginning.
From that moment she often had to travel—now to Moscow, now to St. Petersburg. She never left for more than three days and always warned her husband about her trips. Usually Gosha got upset and grumbled, but lately something in his behavior changed. He became secretive, acted strangely, and seemed to be just waiting for his wife to go away.
Only, as luck would have it, Svetlana wasn’t going anywhere. Changes were brewing again at her firm, and she had to work even harder. She stayed late at the office, which left Gosha with a lot of wife-free time. And when free time appears, “activities” usually appear too. Sometimes those activities lead to the collapse of a family.
Svetlana realized this when she saw how her husband had changed. He spent ages glued to his phone, showed no interest in her news, and made no secret of his concern that his wife had “lingered” at home.
“Sweetheart, are you having problems at work?” he asked once.
“No… Why would you think that?”
“I figured it out—you haven’t gone to Moscow in over two months,” Gosha looked disappointed. “Did they find a replacement for you?”
“Not at all! They just need me here. And why are you asking?”
“Oh, you know… in case you forgot to tell me something important. I decided to check.”
“Don’t worry. If I’m going anywhere, you’ll be the first to know,” Svetlana snorted. She started pondering her husband’s behavior, his questions, those strange looks.
“He’s probably found himself a fling,” Svetlana thought. She also noticed her husband had completely stopped bringing money home.
“Maybe we could go to the store together?” she suggested, calling him.
“I don’t think I want to waste time on that. That’s what the internet is for.”
“In that case, order the groceries yourself. I don’t have time, and you’re already home.”
“Fine,” Gosha agreed. Half an hour later, payment for the order was debited from Svetlana’s card.
“Why didn’t you pay for it yourself?!” she asked.
“I’m having a few financial difficulties—my salary’s been delayed… And anyway, you usually pay for groceries. I don’t see the problem.”
“Well, I do! You’ve turned into a freeloader and you don’t even do the basics: you forget to say good morning and grab your phone right away! You lock yourself in the bathroom and sit there for hours. What on earth are you doing in there so long?!” Svetlana burst out.
“I figured ‘office matters’—you know, bathroom business—are something everyone’s entitled to. Ever heard of personal boundaries?” Gosha replied irritably. He didn’t like being called a freeloader.
“You need personal boundaries? So you’re tired of me, is that it?” Svetlana folded her arms. “Fine—then be happy: they’re sending me on a business trip.”
“When?” Her husband’s eyes lit up; he couldn’t hide his delight.
“Tomorrow, actually. It’s urgent, and long…” Svetlana wanted to say “for a year,” but she was afraid he wouldn’t believe her and her plan wouldn’t work.
“So how long will you be gone?”
“For a month,” she blurted, noticing his hands already reaching for his phone.
“Well, well… absolutely no self-control! His wife hasn’t even stepped out the door and he’s already inviting his lover!”
Svetlana’s thoughts grew darker by the minute. And to think that not long ago she’d been worried about something else entirely: her boss had called her into his office and talked for a long time.
“Think it over; I’m not rushing you.”
“I understand, but I have a family… It’s too difficult a decision to make alone.”
“Of course. I’ll give you time.”
“How much time do I have?”
“A month and a half, two months. By summer I have to report to head office. Perhaps you’ll deliver it yourself—already in the new position.”
Svetlana smiled modestly. She couldn’t have dreamed of such an offer. But her husband, Gosha, was against changes like that. So she didn’t allow herself the full spectrum of emotions. She put off the conversation for a while—she needed to prepare her husband for the news. And then this twist.
It turned out her husband couldn’t wait for his wife to vacate the living space!
Svetlana packed her suitcase with a heavy heart. An inner voice told her not to go, but she went anyway. Fortunately, the trip really had been approved, and she planned to return unexpectedly, without warning.
Svetlana left, and her husband didn’t even notice that the fridge was empty or that she hadn’t set out clean shirts for him…
This trip was different. Gosha didn’t call to ask how her flight was or whether she’d reached the hotel. He didn’t text her—he seemed to have forgotten she existed. What’s more, when he answered her calls, he was curt and distracted, as if he were always rushing somewhere and couldn’t spare even a couple of minutes for a simple conversation.
At first, Svetlana pitied herself and cried into her pillow, realizing their marriage was doomed; but after a few days she caught herself thinking that every ending is the beginning of something new.
Two weeks later, during a conversation with her manager, she made a fateful decision:
“I agree, Boris Lvovich.”
“Have you thought it through?” he asked, holding back a smile.
“Yes.”
“In that case, we’ll hold a meeting tomorrow. It’s fortunate you’re in Moscow now.”
“All right.”
Svetlana was approved unanimously. Another rung on the career ladder behind her. She ought to have been happy, but problems at home kept her from feeling fully joyful.
“You can start your new duties as early as Monday. I suppose you need to wrap up some things at home?” the new boss said.
“Yes. You’re right.”
“In that case, go back to your city, take care of everything, and return. I hope a week is enough to handle matters.”
“Yes. That will be quite enough,” Svetlana nodded. She booked a return ticket and set off home without delay. She didn’t call her husband—she needed to catch him off guard. Which is exactly what happened.
Entering the building, she pulled out her key and, with trembling hands, turned the lock.
“Who’s there?!” came her husband’s voice. He must have been right by the door. For a second, Svetlana thought she’d just wound herself up for nothing, that her husband was faithful, and that she wouldn’t find proof of infidelity at home.
“It’s me.”
“Sveta?! Why did you come home so early?!” her husband panicked, pushing the door shut in her face.
“What do you mean?” Sveta managed to shove her bag in so the door wouldn’t close. “Do I have to ask your permission in advance for ‘entry’? Step aside! I’m tired from the road.”
Svetlana shoved the door and stepped into the apartment. The look on her husband’s face was indescribable. He seemed ready to do anything just to make his wife disappear.
“Aren’t you happy to see me? Didn’t you miss me in two weeks?” She looked at the unfamiliar things lying in the hallway. A little jacket, sneakers… Svetlana had expected her husband’s mistress to wear heels, not these cloth “slippers.”
“I—I missed you… So why are you early? Or are you just passing through?” Her husband was babbling nonsense, and suddenly Svetlana found it funny.
“That’s right, I’m passing through. I’ll settle a couple of things and head on,” she walked farther into the apartment, where noise was coming from. She was so worked up she didn’t immediately notice the layer of dust on the floor or the bags of adhesive. Only when she peeked into a room did she understand what was happening. In her absence, her husband had decided to renovate! He just hadn’t managed to finish before she came back.
“Surprise ruined?” She planted her fists on her hips. “How sweet—pink walls and a pattern from a kids’ cartoon on the wallpaper. Have you regressed to childhood? Or did you decide to set up a room for our eighteen-year-old son? He’s a boy, not a princess! And he lives in a dorm; it’s way too early for him to be getting married and having kids!” Svetlana barked. Gosha lowered his eyes. “I’m waiting for an explanation. Don’t just stand there!”
“It’s a room for my daughter.”
“You have a mistress who had a daughter?!”
“No… I have a daughter who had a daughter. God, I know how strange this sounds… We’ve been together twenty years…”
“Yes! You’re right—it sounds like you’ve lost your mind!”
“Listen, Sveta, I have a daughter. Just like you, I didn’t know she existed until recently… She’s twenty… Her mother died; there’s no one to help her. I recently found out I’m a grandfather. Anyway, Alisa found me and asked for help. The man left her, and she has nowhere to live. She’s alone with a newborn in her arms… And I feel guilty that she grew up without a father. Let me at least give my grandchild what I didn’t give my daughter!” Gosha stumbled over his words, and Svetlana could hardly believe him.
“I see the renovation is almost finished?” she managed to say.
“Yes, they’ll bring the crib the day after tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s all paid for. Svetočka… darling, I didn’t tell you in advance because I thought you wouldn’t agree, that you’d be angry and wouldn’t let me take the poor thing in. I was counting on having everything ready by the time you got back from your trip, and for Alisa and the baby to move in. I just hoped you wouldn’t throw a young mother out on the street… You’re a kind woman!”
“You’re absolutely right. I won’t throw a mother with an infant out. I’ll throw you out! Pack your things now so that in an hour there isn’t a trace of you here!” she shouted. “And you—keep working!” Svetlana addressed the woman doing the renovation. “You have twenty-four hours to finish.”
The woman nodded.
Gosha stood there like a ghost.
“Sveta… how can you throw me out? After so many years… Where am I supposed to go? And why do you need such a big apartment all by yourself?”
“I’ll decide that without you. Go to your ‘daughter and her daughter’!”
When her husband left, the contractor came up to Svetlana.
“And where should we deliver the crib? Or are you refusing it?” she asked.
“Bring it here. It’s all paid for.”
Svetlana sat down on a chair and thought. How lucky she’d been offered that job with a move to Moscow. Otherwise she’d now be battling with her own common sense, trying not to let a stranger with a baby into her apartment. Who Alisa really was to Gosha—daughter or mistress—Svetlana didn’t know. But she couldn’t allow an unfamiliar woman to live on her territory. And the renovation? It was very timely.
Svetlana dialed her friend’s number.
“Anya, hi. I’ve decided to move after all. They’re paying for housing in Moscow, my son lives in a dorm, and my husband…” She paused. “I kicked my husband out. Anyway, the apartment is free. Move in, live there. I won’t charge much rent—we’re friends. And one more thing… don’t buy furniture for your granddaughter. Gosha ‘took care’ of the future tenants.”
Anya was delighted with the fresh renovation in the nursery. She’d long rented an apartment nearby, but the owner decided to sell, and the woman, her daughter, and her granddaughter were left without a roof over their heads. They had no home of their own—long story. She hadn’t expected her friend to actually decide to move, but now she was over the moon.
“Thank you, Sveta! I promise the apartment will be in good hands. And don’t dwell on your husband’s cheating. There aren’t many men who stay faithful to their wives… Let him live with his ‘daughter and granddaughter’ now, pay for a rental, and buy the groceries. You’re not obliged to support them.”
The women chatted a little longer, and Svetlana went to pack. Big changes lay ahead, and she needed to prepare carefully.
A divorce, division of property, and a new job—a new place to live and new horizons. There was no place for the old Gosha in her new life, even though he tried hard to make peace and even came to see his wife in Moscow. But Sveta didn’t forgive mistakes…
