Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Tonya let out a heavy sigh. Some people were spared a midlife crisis, but hers had hit like a real, knock-you-off-your-feet hurricane. She disliked everything about herself and wanted to change it all.
“You look gorgeous, sweetheart! No one would ever say you’re forty!” her coworker would tell her. Tonya only waved it off. Without even knowing exactly what was wrong, she still wanted to transform. And yes—she really did look great, but… something felt off.
Her husband had stopped giving compliments a long time ago. He didn’t buy gifts, and he even forgot their anniversary. Their son was always out with friends and rarely talked to his parents anymore. Not long ago, he started dating a girl and announced he’d decided to move in with her.
New Year’s was approaching, and Tonya wanted to shine—to be the most beautiful woman for the husband she loved. She became obsessed with reigniting that spark in their relationship, the one that had slowly begun to fade. It felt like Antonina did everything for her husband, yet something still wasn’t enough for him.
“Igor, what would you want to change about me?” Tonya asked her spouse while he was busy typing at the computer.
She stood by the window, looking at the silvery, sparkling sheet of frost-covered snow blanketing their yard.
“My brain, Toneyka. So you wouldn’t ask questions like that,” he said. “Decided to reinvent yourself in your old age?”
“Igor, why ‘old age’ right away? We’re still young,” she protested. “Listen, I was thinking… Since Vanya wants to move in with his girlfriend anyway and plans to celebrate New Year’s with her, why don’t you and I go to the mountains? Rent a gorgeous suite and relax. Ride snowmobiles—maybe even ski. What do you think? I don’t want to sit at home and be bored.”
Her husband frowned. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, deepening the lines on his forehead, then lifted his dark eyes to her. Tonya kept staring out the window, smiling dreamily.
“I’m celebrating New Year’s with my mistress, Tonya. I’m already embarrassed to show you to my friends, and you should understand that yourself. They’re all wealthy guys—every one of them has a young woman, sometimes more than one. Some got divorced and started new relationships; others decided, like me, to stay married but try something new. I feel sorry for you—I don’t want to leave you. You’d fall apart without me. Who would need you like that? So forgive me for speaking bluntly, straight as it is. Arrange something with your girlfriends—celebrate with them.”
Tonya slowly turned her head and froze, astonishment on her face. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard from the man she loved. A mistress? How could he say such horrifying things so calmly? He had to be joking… but no—this didn’t sound like a joke at all. Then what was it?
“You’re not serious, Igor… are you?”
“I don’t want to lie to you. We’ve been together twenty-two years. That’s a long time. Once you were a silly eighteen-year-old—young and beautiful—and now… no matter how many cosmetologists you go to, Tonya, you can’t hide age. In our circles, it’s indecent to bring wives along, and friends are sacred. Profitable connections, partnerships. That’s how it is. Just don’t throw a hysterical fit—I’m not going anywhere, so everything will stay the same as before. I’m simply tired of carrying this secret and being afraid you’ll find out from an enemy.”
The meaning of his words reached Antonina far too slowly. She didn’t even flinch when her husband stepped close and gave her a dry kiss on the temple. He announced he was leaving for work, and Tonya couldn’t answer a thing. Her husband had a mistress. Some young girl… Now it was clear why he’d pulled away. He’d found “fresh blood” and decided to have his fun. Fine—let him go to hell.
There were no tears, but her soul was shredding from the hurt. How much had they survived together? How many times had they balanced on the edge? Antonina had done everything in her power to save their marriage—until she realized she was the only one who needed it. Now all the sandcastles built over the years collapsed in an instant.
She reached the bed, sat on the edge, and folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t know what to do now. Divorce would be hard and painful, of course, but she wasn’t going to stay beside a man who openly spat on her—and she had no intention of forgiving betrayal. Deciding that there was too little time left before New Year’s and no point filing in court right then (nothing would be processed until after the holidays anyway), Antonina reached for her phone. She opened a travel agency website and booked herself a trip to the mountains. If she wanted an active New Year’s—then that’s what she should do. Even without her husband.
Her mind was still foggy, but Antonina tried not to panic. She was so used to Igor that she couldn’t even hate him yet. After twenty-two years they had become too close—like family. Or so Tonya had thought. Maybe her husband had stopped seeing her long ago. How long had he had another woman?
That evening at dinner, she forced herself to keep it together. She didn’t want a scandal or to ruin everyone’s mood. After the vacation, she would calmly pack her things and move into the apartment she’d inherited. She wasn’t planning to leave the house to her husband. She decided that after dividing the property, she would buy her son an apartment, and put the remaining money into savings. Now she needed to think about herself, too.
Vanya shared happy news: he and his girlfriend had already chosen an apartment and signed a rental agreement. He was only nineteen, but he already earned decent money on his own and didn’t ask his parents for any.
“So how are you two going to celebrate New Year’s?” he asked. “Anya and I could come by for a couple of hours…”
“No need,” Igor cleared his throat. “I’m celebrating this New Year’s out of town with friends. And your mother will be with her girlfriends.”
Antonina twisted her mouth.
“Yeah… with ‘girlfriends,’” she muttered through clenched teeth. She wasn’t going to tell him she’d already bought a trip. She’d paid with his card, of course—why spend her own money? He probably didn’t even check his charges.
Ivan was relieved the issue was settled; he’d felt guilty, like he was abandoning his parents.
Antonina didn’t speak to her husband. She went to sleep in the guest room, and Igor didn’t try to stop her. He didn’t feel guilty at all—he believed that if his wife didn’t like something, that was strictly her problem. More than that, he felt like a hero: he hadn’t hidden the truth or made excuses like other men. After all, he was a man—he’d told it straight. Tonya would accept it—where would she go? He was sure she wouldn’t leave him and would calm down, and he’d get to enjoy all the pleasures of life while still keeping his family.
The next day Tonya packed her things and went to the airport. She told only her son where she was going, asked him not to worry—she planned to have the best days she’d had in years. From her tone, Ivan began to suspect there was trouble in his parents’ relationship, but he didn’t ask unnecessary questions. He was building his own happiness and decided adults would figure it out without him. Antonina didn’t know whether to be glad about his detachment or sad. Her son had grown up. He no longer needed his parents the way he once had, and their worries didn’t interest him much. She would have to deal with everything on her own.
The mountains greeted her with air so fresh it made her dizzy at first, and with stunning nature. How long she’d wanted to escape to a place like this. The view from her room was wonderful—you could sit in a rocking chair by the floor-to-ceiling window and stare for hours. But Tonya had come for action, so she changed quickly and went skiing. She understood the pain was still boiling in her chest and hadn’t reached its breaking point yet—one day the dam would burst and emotions would spill out. But she desperately wanted to avoid a breakdown. Every time she felt like crying, Antonina forced herself to smile.
After renting equipment, she headed to the beginner slope. She hadn’t stood on skis in a long time and was afraid she’d tumble down the hill. You didn’t have to pretend to be a pro to be active.
“First time on skis?” a pleasant, velvety voice asked.
“Not the first… but it’s been a while.”
“Same here—first time after an injury. My name’s Mikhail. Are you here alone?”
“Antonina. Alone.”
“Then let’s team up—support each other just in case. I came alone too.”
For some reason his pushiness annoyed her, but she decided not to focus on it. In a way he was right—it was better to stick with someone. You never know what could happen. And walking around with company was more interesting.
After falling a few times, Antonina couldn’t hold back her laughter. She felt like a child taking first steps, unafraid of falling—because you can always get back up. Cold and exhausted but happy, she and Mikhail returned to the hotel complex, changed clothes, and hurried to the café to warm up with a mug of hot cocoa.
“I missed skiing so much,” he said. “It feels like I’ve started living again.”
Mikhail told her that he used to be unable to live without skis—it was his favorite passion—but one day he got caught in an avalanche. They found him quickly and saved him, but he was badly injured and had to give up the sport for a long time. His wife left him, thinking he’d be disabled for the rest of his life; she took their daughter and forbade him from contacting her. But he managed to get back on his feet, and now he’d returned to what he loved.
“So you still don’t talk to your daughter?” Antonina asked.
“She’s grown up. She reached out to me herself. We talk—but not the way I’d want. She grew up without me.”
Antonina didn’t rush to share details of her own personal life, and Mikhail didn’t push. They found plenty of common topics. After three days they were chatting about everything and nothing, like old friends who’d known each other forever. Antonina noticed she hadn’t spoken like this with her husband in a very long time. It was as if they no longer had anything in common. Whenever she tried to talk, Igor waved her off and said he had no time for women’s gossip—too much work.
Igor called Antonina only once. He relaxed when he learned she’d gone to the mountains to rest. He even told her to be careful, but it felt like put-on concern. He probably wasn’t worried at all.
Getting dressed for the New Year’s celebration in the hotel’s hall, Antonina looked at herself in the mirror for the first time without contempt. She understood what she’d been missing all this time: a joyful sparkle in her eyes. Now it had appeared—along with the desire to live.
Watching fireworks flash outside the window, Antonina wasn’t thinking about her husband at all… she didn’t care anymore. As the clock chimed midnight, breathing in the rich scents of pine, mandarins, and sparkling wine, she made a wish that each new day would be filled with pleasant events. Behind her stood Mikhail. He admired the view and dreamed of coming back to the mountains and meeting Tonya again.
Two days later, it was time to return home. Antonina and Mikhail exchanged contacts so they wouldn’t lose each other. She came home smiling. Igor didn’t share her joy. He looked irritated, as if he resented her happiness.
“So you’ve had your fun? Hope you didn’t cheat on me. I don’t plan on walking around with antlers.”
“Ask your mistress who else she’s fooling around with,” she replied. “I can’t cheat on you, my dear, because I’ve decided to divorce you. And I’m not changing my mind. Accept it and let me go.”
“That won’t happen!”
Igor grabbed her hand and yanked it, expecting a good shake would put her in her place.
“I won’t let you leave. And if you dare, you won’t get a penny.”
“That’s not for you to decide. That’s for the judge.”
“And this is how you thank me for telling the truth? I could’ve said I was going on a business trip, but I opened up to you… and you run away? Found yourself some guy in the mountains, so you got brave?”
“You really think you’re a hero? Doesn’t the crown press on your head? What difference does it make—truth or lies? You betrayed me, and I’m not forgiving it.”
Antonina tore her hand free. She quickly gathered the necessary вещи and documents and moved into a small apartment. It needed repairs, but it was still far better than living in a house with a traitor.
She wasn’t going to hide the truth from her son. She met with Ivan and told him everything honestly. He took his mother’s side and said he’d help her in any way he could.
After the New Year holidays, Antonina filed for divorce. As expected, her husband didn’t want to divide property, so she had to endure a lot of stress—but soon she received the long-awaited divorce certificate. She felt free of the chains of marriage and breathed out in relief. It takes two people to fight for a relationship. All this time Antonina had fought alone, while her husband drifted farther away. Now Igor had “come to his senses” and wanted everything back—but it was too late. After learning of the betrayal, Antonina had gone cold, and she couldn’t start over on a “clean slate,” the way people like to do now.
The property division was no less difficult than the divorce itself: selling assets meant discussing every detail with her ex-husband, and Igor never missed a chance to insult Tonya and make her feel guilty. Even if it didn’t work, each time his words sank lower and lower.
Soon, nothing remained to bind the former spouses. Ivan was an adult and could decide for himself whom to keep in his life. Antonina began taking better care of herself: she went to yoga and read a lot in her free time. Coworkers said she looked ten years younger—divorce had clearly done her good.
Before long, the first snow fell again. Catching snowflakes on her outstretched palm, Antonina smiled. She was already looking forward to going back to the mountains, where she and Mikhail had agreed to meet again.
At twenty, at forty, at sixty—you can’t put a cross on your life. Antonina knew for sure that real женское счастье—true feminine happiness—still lay ahead. For now, she simply enjoyed the fact that she could breathe, walk on two legs, and look at the world with her own eyes. Igor, meanwhile, grew angry at everyone around him and lost the people he called friends. He changed girlfriends, found silly fortune-hunters chasing someone else’s wallet, but none of them could replace Antonina. He understood it only after losing her. He loved his wife, but his attempts to be “like everyone else” forced him to bury that love deep inside—and in the end, he was left with nothing
