The staircase landing greeted Andrey with its usual silence. After a three-day business trip that had exhausted him to the limit, he dreamed only of collapsing into bed and sleeping for twelve hours.
However, upon retrieving his keys, he suddenly froze: music was coming from the apartment. This was strange—Olga never played it so loudly.
The door opened without issue. The light was on in the hallway, but his wife’s usual shoes were not in their place. Instead, there was a bright red bag on the shelf—small, stylish, completely unlike those Olga preferred.
«Olga?» he called out, removing his shoes. «Are you home?»
The music immediately stopped. A young woman with a short bob haircut, dressed in home trousers and a loose t-shirt, emerged from the kitchen. She held a steaming cup of tea, her expression calm and even slightly surprised.
«And you are?» she asked, as if being there was her natural right.
Andrey blinked. For a moment, he thought he was on the wrong floor, but the familiar scratch on the door frame and the cat-themed doormat Olga had chosen last fall said otherwise.
«I’m the owner of this apartment,» he said slowly. «And who are you and where is my wife?»
The woman set her cup on a side table:
«I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I am the owner of this apartment. My name is Irina, and I have been living here for a month.»
A chill ran down Andrey’s spine. He decided it must be some sort of prank or mistake.
«Listen…» he began, but Irina had already headed to another room.
A minute later, she returned with a folder of documents:
«Here you go. The purchase contract, the property certificate. It’s all official.»
Andrey grabbed the papers with trembling hands. Despite his fatigue, he immediately recognized Olga’s signature—so distinctive, with its recognizable flourish. The date on the deal showed that it all happened a month ago.
«This must be some silly joke,» he muttered. «A prank, right?»
«No prank,» Irina replied calmly. «I purchased this apartment from Olga Sergeyevna. She was very eager to sell and offered a good price.»
Andrey entered the living room in confusion and sank into a chair. The room seemed completely different: new curtains, different furniture, unfamiliar smells. Family photos were gone from the walls, Olga’s favorite blanket was missing from the chair, and the books on the shelves were also strangers.
He pulled out his phone and dialed his wife’s number. «The subscriber’s device is switched off or out of network coverage.»
«Don’t bother,» said Irina. «She changed her number.»
«How do you know?» he turned sharply to her.
«Know?» she repeated, sitting on the edge of the sofa. «She warned that you would return from your trip and start looking for her. She asked me to tell you that it was her decision.»
«What decision?!» Andrey exploded, jumping up. «We’ve been together for ten years! We have a joint business, shared plans. She couldn’t just…»
«Leave?» Irina finished for him. «She could. And she did.»
He rushed to the bedroom. The closet was filled with stranger’s clothes—no trace of Olga’s things. New personal care products appeared in the bathroom, and different dishes in the kitchen. It seemed as though Olga had never existed here.
Andrey frantically started calling friends, relatives, colleagues. But no one knew anything—or pretended not to know.
«Maybe you should calm down?» Irina appeared in the doorway again, holding a cup of tea. «You don’t look well.»
«To hell with this tea!» he roared. «What’s going on? You must know!»
She shrugged indifferently:
«I only know that she sold the apartment and decided to start a new life.»
«Without me?» he whispered, feeling the world around him begin to blur.
«Was it really so good with you?» Irina unexpectedly asked.
Andrey looked at her carefully—for the first time, really looking. Something in her eyes seemed familiar. Something he had seen somewhere before…
«Who are you really?» Andrey asked, his heart tightening with foreboding.
The woman smiled—sadly and as if understanding:
«I am Sergey’s sister. The same Sergey Olga occasionally talked about.»
Andrey chilled. Of course, he remembered Sergey—his wife’s first love, her classmate. They had talked about it before… or hadn’t they? When had they last talked about life, not just work?
«They met by chance two months ago, in a café,» Irina continued. «Olga was in a depressed state. She told him how you two had drifted apart. How she became invisible to you—first the little things, then everything else.»
He clenched his fists instinctively:
«I was working! For both of us!»
«Really?» She tilted her head to the side. «When was the last time you asked about how she was? Not about the business or reports, but just about her emotional state?»
Andrey tried to answer, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t remember.
«She tried to get your attention,» Irina’s voice softened. «She signed up for dance classes, changed her hair color, started taking antidepressants. But you didn’t notice anything.»
Each word was a blow. He vaguely remembered something: Olga talking about dancing, maybe even showing a new hairstyle. But then his thoughts were occupied by a project, an important deal… Everything else receded into the background.
«And then Sergey appeared,» Irina stopped by the window. «He knows how to listen, to notice details. With Olga, he did what you hadn’t done for a long time—made her feel alive again.»
«She could have told me about this!» Andrey exclaimed.
«She did,» Irina quietly replied. «You just didn’t hear.»
He sank into the chair, feeling the world around him blur. Memories flooded in one after another: how Olga invited him on vacation, suggested discussing something important, cried into her pillow. And each time he found excuses, assuring her that «it would pass.»
«Where is she now?» he asked in a hoarse voice.
«I can’t tell you,» Irina shook her head. «She doesn’t want you to know.»
«I have a right…»
«To what?» she interrupted. «To force a person to be with someone they’re miserable with? To keep someone who’s suffocating next to you?»
Andrey was silent. Outside, twilight deepened, lights coming on in neighboring houses. He remembered evenings spent with Olga, their plans, dreams… When had it all ended? When had work become more important than everything? When was the last time he told her «I love you,» looking straight into her eyes?
«What now?» he said after a long pause.
Irina shrugged:
«Now you have a choice: start a lawsuit, try to get the apartment back and find her… Or let go and think about why everything happened this way.»
«And you? Why do you need this apartment?» he asked.
«To help her start a new life,» Irina replied. «Formally, the apartment is registered in my name, but I transferred the money to her. It’s her inheritance from her mother.»
Andrey stood up, feeling a sudden heaviness in his chest:
«Can I at least take my things?»
«Of course,» she nodded. «All your things are neatly packed in the storage room.»
He headed for the exit, but paused at the threshold:
«You know… I really loved her.»
«I know,» Irina quietly replied. «But sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes you need to be able to see the person next to you before you lose them forever.»
An hour later, Andrey left the building, carrying a suitcase. The window of their former apartment was lit, and he noticed Irina’s silhouette behind the curtain.
Somewhere in another city, Olga was building a new life. Without him. And him? He had to figure out where he had made a mistake. Perhaps sometimes it’s necessary to lose everything to realize what’s truly important. The heavy suitcase in his hand seemed like a symbol of a decade-long life that now fit into one small bag. But somewhere deep inside, a strange thought took root: maybe everything happened just as it should.
Andrey hailed a taxi, giving his friend’s address. In the rearview mirror, the windows of their former apartment flickered—warm, glowing, but now completely foreign.
The car pulled away. He didn’t look back—why? The past was gone, and the future lay before him like an endless void. Scary, but at the same time full of possibilities, like a clean sheet of paper on which to start writing a new story.
Only first, one needs to learn to see what lies between the lines—otherwise, you risk missing the main thing again.
Max’s apartment greeted him with a blend of coffee and cigarette smells. The shaggy, clearly sleep-deprived friend opened the door, casting a quick glance at the suitcase:
«So, it’s serious?»
«Yes, all of it,» Andrey walked inside, settling on the sofa. «Still can’t believe it.»
Max sat down next to him, silent for a bit:
«Will you tell me?»
And Andrey began to talk—about everything: the woman in their apartment, the documents, Sergey. Max listened attentively, not interrupting, only occasionally shaking his head.
«You know, I warned you about this,» he said when Andrey finished.
«About what?» Andrey asked hoarsely.
«That you were too immersed in work. Remember your birthday last year? Olga threw a party, invited all your friends, baked a cake… And you were busy on your phone all evening. Work, work, work…»
Andrey winced. Now the memory of that evening stood out particularly clearly. Olga really tried, gathered all their loved ones, and he spent all that time responding to work emails. It seemed then that these issues couldn’t be postponed until the next day.
«The worst part is that I can’t blame her,» he sighed, looking at the ceiling. «She’s right. I really stopped noticing her.»
«What now?» Max asked cautiously.
«I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know.»
The days after that merged into one endless flow. Andrey continued to go to work, but everything around seemed alien and unreal. Tasks slipped from his hands, his thoughts occupied by completely different things. Everyone at the office already knew—news spreads quickly, especially in a small town.
One day, he involuntarily paused his gaze on a photograph on his desk. He and Olga on vacation three years ago. Their last joint holiday. In the picture, she was smiling, holding his hand. When had they last touched each other like that, with warmth and love?
At that moment, his phone vibrated—a message from an unknown number.
«If you want my opinion, start with the small things. Look at what’s happening around you. At the people who are in your life right now.»
Irina. He wanted to respond sharply, even delete the message, but instead, he saved the number.
In the evening, returning to Max’s, he asked unexpectedly:
«How’s your Marina? Did she finish her studies?»
«Of course,» Max smiled. «Now she’s working as a teacher at school. The kids just adore her!»
Andrey was surprised. He had been a witness at their wedding, but hadn’t even inquired how Marina’s studies were progressing. How many more people around him were living their lives, and he didn’t even notice?
The next day, he stopped by the accounting department without a specific purpose—just to find out how Nina Petrovna, who had recently been ill, was feeling. The woman was initially confused, then blossomed into a smile and spent a whole half hour talking about her grandchildren.
Now, returning to Max’s, he chose a different route—past the house where he used to live with Olga. Sometimes the lights were on, sometimes everything was dark. One day he noticed Irina leaving the entrance in a sports suit with a yoga mat. She saw him, nodded briefly.
A week later, he dared to write to Irina:
«You were right. I really missed too much.»
The response came almost instantly:
«Better to realize it late than never.»
«You know what I’ve figured out?» Andrey said to Max in the evening, sitting in his apartment. «All these years I was obsessed with the future: saving money, developing the business, making plans. The present moment just slipped through my fingers.»
«And now? What’s changed?»
«Now I want to learn to live here and now. Just to be.»
He began to notice things that previously passed him by: the aroma of fresh pastries from a street cafe in the mornings, the whistling of the janitor during cleaning, the laughter of children on their way to school. Before, he missed all this, buried in his phone or lost in thoughts about work.
A month later, Andrey moved into a new apartment—a small studio in a newly built district. He packed his things and thanked his friend for his hospitality.
«Will you stay for dinner?» Max asked. «Marina baked a great pie today.»
«Of course, I’ll stay,» Andrey smiled. «Now I have the time.»
That evening, he reached out to Irina again:
«Thank you.»
«For what?»
«For making me think. You specifically said those words then?»
«Maybe,» she replied enigmatically.
In the new apartment, there was silence—quite different from the previous one. Here, there were no familiar sounds of Olga’s footsteps, the rustling of her book pages, or the clinking of dishes in the kitchen. But this silence was special, like a clean sheet of paper, ready to take on new colors.
He took out an old photo album—the only link to the past he had taken with him. Their first date, a trip to the sea, housewarming… So many moments he had taken for granted then. How had he not appreciated them?
A few months later, Irina sent him a short message:
«Olga now lives in St. Petersburg.»
«How is she?»
«Happy. Studying to be a designer. It’s always been her dream.»
«I had no idea.»
«Now you know.»
Andrey closed the album and approached the window. Life unfolded outside in the new district—other sounds, smells, people. Somewhere there, in another city, Olga was realizing her long-held dream. And him? He was learning anew to see the world around him. Learning to notice details, to feel moments.
And somewhere deep inside, he understood—this was just the beginning of a long journey. A journey to his true self, capable not only of planning the future but also of living the present. To someone who can love, feel, notice.
Meanwhile, he watched the first snow waltz outside the window. For the first time in a long time, he truly saw each snowflake, each pattern on the glass. Like in childhood, when the whole world seemed so amazing and magical.
Maybe that’s where a new life begins—with the ability to marvel at the simple. With the opportunity to stop and just be. Here and now.
