— “You always knew I wasn’t a prize!” — Viktor threw his keys onto the dresser. — “But right now you’re just being hysterical!”
— “Hysterical?” — Marina pressed a palm to her chest. — “I’m hysterical when your Svetka called me herself?”
— “What Svetka? What are you even talking about?”
Viktor was terrified that his secret had come out. Panic shot through his mind — how could Svetlana be so foolish? They’d agreed to keep quiet!
Three months earlier, Viktor met Svetlana at the café Old Square on Tverskaya. He’d stopped in for a bite after a planning meeting, and she was sitting alone by the window, stirring a cooling coffee.
His heart skipped — the same smile, the same eyes. Time seemed to stop, and he was twenty again, unable to take his eyes off the most beautiful girl in the class.
— “Is this seat taken?” — he nodded at the chair opposite.
— “Vitya?” — she looked up. — “Well, would you look at that, how many years!”
“He’s aged,” flashed through Svetlana’s mind. “But still the same charming scoundrel.”
— “Five, to be exact. Since Masha’s graduation party.”
Masha — their mutual goddaughter, the daughter of a classmate who had stubbornly tried to reconcile them back in the day.
— “Is your daughter married already?”
She spoke of Viktor’s daughter evenly, without much warmth — they’d seen each other only a few times at group events.
— “For a year now. And your son?”
Viktor asked about Andrey with cautious tenderness. In his youth he had dreamed that he and Svetlana would marry and her son would be like his own.
— “The army,” — Svetlana looked away. — “Andrey doesn’t write at all… My husband says that’s how it should be.”
At the mention of her husband, Viktor felt a stab of old jealousy. Igor — the same old bore who had stolen Svetka from him.
— “Your Igor has always been… particular.”
“You never loved him,” Viktor thought. “And I knew it. So why did you marry him?”
— “Don’t start,” — she smirked. — “Better tell me about yourself. How’s Marina?”
— “Work, home, waiting on grandkids,” — Viktor shrugged. — “An ordinary life for ordinary people.”
He talked about the routine, about how sick he was of a measured life, how he longed for something bright. He said it to draw out sympathy, to hint at dissatisfaction with his marriage.
Their meetings became regular. Cafés, walks, then a friend’s apartment — Kolya the bachelor, who lent his keys without questions. They both understood what they were doing, but pretended it was just friendly meet-ups.
— “Why are we doing this?” — Svetlana buttoned her blouse.
“He’s still the same egoist,” she thought of Viktor. “And Igor… God, when was the last time I actually wanted to go home to my husband?”
— “What’s the big deal? Two adults, we’re not hurting anyone.”
Viktor saw nothing objectionable — they were just filling what was lacking in their marriages. No obligations, no one would get hurt.
— “You have a wife, I have a husband.”
— “So what?” — Viktor lit a cigarette. — “They won’t find out. You’re not the type to blab.”
A thought of Marina flickered — how would she take it if she found out? But he quickly drove the doubt away. She wouldn’t. Why make a tragedy out of nothing?
— “Of course,” — she picked up her bag. — “I have to go.”
— “Svetka,” — he caught her by the hand. — “Don’t stress. Everything’s under control.”
He wanted to convince her they were being reasonable. Adults had a right to happiness, even secret.
Svetlana kissed him and left. Viktor stayed by the window, smoking. Seeing Svetlana had brought the taste of life back to him. Finally, something interesting in this predictable routine.
Svetlana’s husband, Igor, came home earlier than usual. His wife was making dinner, humming to herself.
— “Someone’s cheerful,” — he tossed his briefcase down.
— “I’m in a good mood.”
— “I can see that. Run into someone?”
There was suspicion in his voice.
— “What?” — she turned around.
“Don’t panic,” ran through her head. “Answer calmly.”
— “I asked if you met someone. Some girlfriend?”
— “Yeah, I saw Lenka,” — Svetlana turned back to the stove.
— “Lenka’s on a business trip,” — Igor narrowed his eyes. — “I spoke to her an hour ago. She’s in Moscow.”
A cold wave of fear washed down her back. “How could I be so stupid? I should have thought before lying!”
— “I must have mixed it up…”
She said it out of confusion, unable to think of anything better.
— “Must have,” — he walked into the living room. — “I won’t be having dinner.”
Igor skipped dinner because he felt a growing chill of suspicion inside. His wife was lying. Which meant there was something to hide.
In the morning Viktor put on his jacket and said to his wife:
— “Marina, I’m off to a planning meeting.”
— “On a Saturday?” — she came out of the kitchen.
— “Quarterly report, you know how it is.”
— “I know,” — Marina nodded. — “Clean shirt’s in the closet.”
Their daughter came out of her room — she’d moved out a couple of years ago but often visited:
— “Dad, can you give me a lift downtown?”
— “Not today, sunshine. I’ve got things to do.”
— “You always have things to do,” — Nadia pouted. — “Mom, what about you?”
“Indeed, he always has things to do,” Marina thought, without much bitterness. “And I, like a fool, keep understanding and forgiving.”
— “Let’s go,” — Marina grabbed the keys. — “We’ll swing by the store. Dad’s busy; the quarterly report matters more than family.”
— “Don’t start,” — Viktor kissed his wife on the cheek. — “We’ll talk tonight.”
He’d wanted to say something conciliatory in the evening, buy flowers. He snapped back only because Marina had hit the mark — work had really become his excuse.
After some time, Svetlana sat in her car, drumming her fingers on the wheel.
Igor had been asking more and more questions, checking her words. This couldn’t go on.
— “You’re late,” — she didn’t look at Viktor.
— “My wife was asking questions.”
He didn’t want to say Marina’s name — it made the affair too real, too personal.
— “And what did you tell her? Another lie?”
— “Svetka, what’s with you?”
He was surprised by her sharpness. She was usually softer, more compliant.
— “I can’t do this anymore,” — she turned to him. — “Igor suspects.”
Panic was growing inside her. Soon everything would come out, and then what? A scandal, a divorce…
— “So what? Let him suspect.”
Viktor put on a brave face, but he was uneasy himself.
— “Easy for you to say!” — she smacked the wheel. — “You come home and Marina smiles at you! And I see the way Igor looks at me!”
She remembered his suspicious glances, the checks, the coldness.
— “Calm down,” — Viktor took her hand. — “It’ll all work out.”
— “Work out? I want a divorce! Do you hear me? I’m filing for divorce!”
Svetlana said it because she understood — secret meetings were no longer possible. And she had long dreamed of freedom. Igor was a dull, demanding husband. He controlled her every step, criticized her friends, decided how she should dress. With Viktor she’d remembered what it was to feel desired.
— “Are you crazy? Over what?”
Viktor got scared — if Svetlana filed for divorce, she’d demand the same of him. And he didn’t want to divorce. He liked things as they were: a stable marriage with Marina and passion with Svetlana.
— “Over you, idiot!” — Svetlana yanked her hand away. — “What do you think I’ve been seeing you for, just for fun?”
She said it because she realized Viktor saw her as just a woman for a fling. And cheating on her husband was an excellent pretext to demand the divorce she wanted anyway.
The next day Marina’s phone rang on Sunday morning.
— “Hello?”
— “Marina Sergeyevna? This is Svetlana, the wife of Igor Zemtsov.”
— “Yes, I’m listening.”
“Zemtsov? Who’s that? And how did she get my number?”
— “We need to talk. About our husbands.”
Marina was wary of the formal tone and the very proposal. Why would a stranger want to talk about husbands?
— “About what exactly?” — Marina sat down on the couch.
— “About the fact that your Viktor sleeps with other men’s wives. For example, with me.”
“That’s a lie. It can’t be. Although… what if it’s true? What does she want from this? Money? Or revenge?”
The phone nearly slipped from her hand. Svetlana spoke for another minute, then Marina cut the call. Just then Viktor walked into the room:
— “Who was that?”
He behaved as usual — calm, a bit sleepy.
— “Your mistress,” — his wife looked up. — “Svetlana.”
Marina watched him closely, studying him. She wanted to see his reaction, to understand whether it was truth or slander.
— “What nonsense?”
Viktor felt everything drop inside him. Damn Svetka! Why? What would she gain from this? He feverishly looked for an exit — deny, insist it was someone’s nasty joke.
— “She told me everything. Three months, Vitya. For three months you lied to my face!”
— “Marina, listen…”
— “QUIET!” — she shouted at her husband.
Marina reacted so sharply because deep down she had known all along. Late nights at work, new shirts, a change of cologne. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it.
— “Quiet while I’m talking! Thirty years of marriage! For thirty years I believed your every word! And you… you used my trust!”
Marina spoke in bursts, jumping from accusations to memories. Viktor stood with his head down, realizing excuses were useless. Marina didn’t know what to do next. Divorce? But how do you live alone at fifty?
— “Svetlana will be here in an hour,” — Marina said at last. — “We’ll sort this out as a foursome.”
Two hours later the doorbell rang, and a man stepped in and introduced himself:
— “I’m Zemtsov,” — his face was stone, fists clenched. Marina immediately understood — this was the lover’s husband. The very man whose wife was cheating.
— “Where’s that bastard?”
— “Igor, let’s not fight,” — Marina blocked his path. She knew who he was — Svetlana had mentioned her husband more than once in talks with Viktor.
— “Not fight? My wife has been cheating on me for three months, and I’m supposed to discuss it calmly?”
— “So has mine,” — Marina shot back. She hadn’t expected her lover’s husband to appear in her home. It was absurd — they were both victims.
A voice came from behind:
— “What did you expect?” — Svetlana walked out of the kitchen. — “That I’d put up with your boorishness forever?” Svetlana had arrived an hour earlier — she’d come to sort things out with Viktor and demand clarity.
— “So this was out of spite, was it?” — Igor looked at his wife in bewilderment — he hadn’t expected to find her here.
— “Out of love, you fool! I’ve loved Vitya since college!”
— “Wonderful!” — Viktor appeared behind Svetlana and started clapping. — “A one-woman show! Svetka, have you lost your mind completely?”
Marina stood off to the side, watching her husband and his mistress. “There it is — my husband’s true face. Cynical, indifferent.”
— “You’re the one who’s lost it!” — Svetlana stepped toward him. — “Thought you’d play around and dump me? For three months you swore you loved me! And now what — it’s all my fault?”
— “What did you think? That I’d leave my family for you?” — Viktor spoke so cruelly because he’d been caught. Igor heard every word and smirked to himself: “So for him my wife was just a toy too.”
The front door opened and their daughter Nadia came in with her husband Alexey.
— “Mom, what’s going on? Why is everyone yelling? We can hear you from the stairwell.”
— “Your father is a hero-lover,” — Marina sat on the couch. — She said it to her daughter because she could no longer keep quiet and hide the truth.
— “What? Dad, is that true?” — Masha was at a loss, glancing from mother to father. “Who are these two in Mom’s apartment? And why is everyone so angry?”
— “It’s none of your business,” — the father turned away from his daughter.
— “How is it not my business?” — Masha flushed, as if her own husband had cheated on her. — “You betrayed Mom!”
— “Don’t be dramatic!” — Viktor feverishly tried to figure a way out. The mistress was demanding a divorce, her husband was ready to smash his face in, his daughter was accusing him of betrayal. And Marina was silent — that was the worst of all.
— “Viktor Nikolaevich,” — Alexey put an arm around his wife. — “Do you at least understand what you’ve done?” — He stepped in to support Masha — he could see how upset she was.
— “Boy, stay out of grown-ups’ business!”
— “Grown-ups’?” — Igor stepped forward. — “You slept with my wife and now you’re lecturing others about life?” — He wanted to hit his wife’s lover again, but stopped — he realized his wife had wanted this herself.
— “And you,” — Viktor jabbed a finger at him, — “first learn how to keep your wife at home!”
— “ENOUGH!” — Marina stood up. She had come to a decision — she could no longer tolerate this filth in her home. — “That’s it! Svetlana, take your… lover, and both of you get out!” — She said it in front of everyone because she was tired of lies. Why hide what everyone already knew?
— “I’m not leaving,” — Viktor protested. He clung to the last thing — his right to the home. — “This is my house.”
— “It was yours. Now get out.” — She wanted it over quickly — this scene was humiliating her.
— “You have no right!”
The front door opened again, and his mother, Anna Ivanovna, walked in.
— “Vitya…”
— “Mom!” — Viktor turned pale. He was afraid because his mother had learned about his affair. — “What are you doing here?”
— “Marina called. Said, ‘Come see your son’s exploits.’ I know everything, Vitya. Did you think you could hide it from your mother?”
— “Mom, it’s a misunderstanding…”
— “A misunderstanding three months long?” — his mother shook her head. — “I didn’t raise you for this.”
Nadia looked at her father with disgust. And Alexey thought: “How can you set up your family like this?”
— “Svetlana, get your things. We’re going home,” — Igor declared. He decided to leave because everything was clear — his wife no longer loved him.
— “I’m filing for divorce!” — Svetlana announced.
— “File away. I don’t care.” — Igor thought: “After today’s circus I actually feel relieved.” — “Viktor,” — he turned to the lover. — “If I see you near my wife again — I’ll kill you.”
— “Try it, cuckold!” — He said it out of anger and bravado — he wanted to show he was still on top.
Igor drew back his fist, but Alexey caught his arm:
— “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
Svetlana stepped up to Viktor:
— “I thought you loved me.”
— “And I thought you were smart,” — he sneered. — “We were both wrong, and I also…”
He didn’t finish — Svetlana slapped him. Anna Ivanovna thought: “Good for her. My son deserves it.” Svetlana turned and left. Igor followed his wife.
Anna Ivanovna went up to her son:
— “I transferred the apartment to your wife by deed of gift. I decided that a year ago. So pack your things.” Viktor froze — he was left with nothing. Thoughts raced: “Where will I live? On what?”
— “Mom! What have you done!” — He was scared because he realized he had no roof over his head.
— “I could, and I did. Marina put up with your temper for thirty years. That’s enough.”
Anna Ivanovna was the first to leave the apartment, then Nadia and her husband. Marina turned to her husband:
— “I’ll be back by lunchtime tomorrow, and I want you gone by then. Take what you can manage; the rest is going in the trash. Got it?” — She spoke to a man whom, that very morning, she might not have loved, but still respected — and that respect had now completely vanished.
Marina walked out and closed the door behind her.
Viktor was left alone in the living room. A vase lay shattered on the floor — Svetlana had knocked it over when she left. He bent down to pick up the shards and cut his finger. Blood dripped onto the carpet. In that moment he felt utterly empty and angry at himself.
— “So much for love,” — he scoffed. He meant both Marina and Svetlana — both had turned away.
The phone rang. An unfamiliar number. Viktor didn’t answer, but the caller kept ringing back. He finally picked up.
— “Viktor Nikolaevich? This is Andrey, Svetlana’s son. I’m on leave. Mom told me who you are.” Viktor thought: “Another problem — an avenger.” “I just want to say — I’ll find you.”
The line went dead. Panic gripped Viktor — now he faced a physical reckoning.
He sat on the floor amid the shards. The apartment wasn’t his. His family had turned away. His mistress was a fool. And now even Svetlana’s son was threatening revenge.
— “You’ve played yourself,” he shook his head. — “Played yourself, smart guy.”
He looked out the window. Evening was beginning — the time when the whole family usually gathered for dinner.
