You know, it’s just impossible to exist with you,» Andrei said, turning his back on Olga by the window. His silhouette stood out against the gloomy October sky. «You’re always so perfect, so convenient… like old house slippers.»
Olga intently observed his back in a gray sweater. For twenty years she had watched it: every morning, every evening. She saw the first grays at his temples, how his posture changed. And now he says it’s impossible.
«And what now?» her voice sounded calm, without a hint of emotion.
«I’m leaving. For another woman,» he blurted out sharply.
She smiled faintly. Of course, to another woman. Was it ever otherwise? Men don’t disappear into nowhere. They always have a specific goal.
«Even now…» he spun around angrily, his eyes flashing. «Even now you remain so… cold! Do you ever feel anything?»
«And what should I do? Throw myself at your feet? Tear out my hair? Beg you to stay?»
«At least something!» he almost groaned. «Do you realize how long I’ve been seeing her?»
«Three months,» she answered calmly.
Andrei froze.
«How did you…»
«I found messages on your phone back in August.»
«And you’ve been silent all this time?!»
«What would that have changed?»
His look became strange—a mix of anger, surprise, and strange disappointment.
«That’s exactly what drives me crazy! You’re not even capable of jealousy!»
Something inside Olga trembled. Incapable? She remembered every sleepless night of these three months, every phone check while he slept, every minute spent waiting for his return from work. But she kept silent. Over twenty years, she learned one important thing: some events just need to be accepted.
«Her name is Lena,» he continued, as if wanting to finish her off completely. «She’s completely different. Alive, bright. Everything is different with her.»
«Of course,» Olga shrugged. «The new always seems better than the usual.»
«There you go with your phrases again!» he exploded. «These eternal lessons! I tell you—it’s impossible to live with you. Always this calm tone, these wise words…»
«Sorry to disappoint,» she gritted, heading for the door.
«Where are you going?»
«To the store. Need to buy groceries for dinner.»
«I just said I’m leaving!»
«But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop eating,» she cut him off and left the apartment.
Olga took the elevator down, walked to the store. Automatically picked the necessary groceries, paid. Only at the entrance to her building did she stop, leaning against the wall.
Twenty years. Two thousand four hundred eighty dinners. Millions of little things that had become habit. And now—»you can’t even be jealous.»
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from an old friend: «Maybe meet up?»
Olga blinked. How did she know? Ah yes, of course. Andrei must have already told everyone about his decision. I wonder how he explained the situation? «I’m leaving my wife because she’s too perfect»?
She typed a response: «All good. Let’s meet next week.»
Because today she needed to stay alone. To realize that twenty years had ended with one short phrase. And to understand what to do next.
And also—to figure out why his last words affected her more than the fact of his departure. «You can’t even be jealous.» It seems she had learned so well to hide her feelings that she convinced not only him but herself of their absence.
A month later, Olga realized one important thing: silence can be deafening. Especially in the evenings, when there’s no need to cook dinner for two and you can stop watching the clock for the familiar sound of a key in the lock.
The first week she acted mechanically, as if Andrei was still there: buying groceries for two, washing for two, cooking… Then it dawned on her: you can change your life. You don’t have to cook at all if you don’t want to. You can turn on your favorite music and dance in the middle of the room. You can overturn all the furniture or paint the walls bright colors. You can start living anew.
Friends called daily:
«Maybe meet up? Just talk, distract ourselves…»
«No need,» she answered with a light smile. «Really, no need.»
They didn’t believe it. Thought she was holding on by a thread. But in reality… she was indeed holding on. Just differently than they imagined.
One morning she entered the supermarket for coffee and froze. By the tea shelf stood Mikhail. That very Mikhail, whom she once… Twenty-three years ago their paths crossed in the library: he was writing a dissertation, and she was preparing for exams. Three months of meetings, endless conversations, long walks. And then Andrei appeared—reliable, serious, with an apartment and clear prospects.
«Olya?» Mikhail turned around, as if feeling her gaze. «It’s been years…»
He had barely changed. Silver strands in his hair, deeper wrinkles around the eyes, but his gaze… even warmer.
«Hello,» she surprised herself with her calm tone. «You’re back?»
«A month ago. I’m opening a branch of my company here.»
«Your company?» She involuntarily smiled, remembering how twenty years ago everyone around considered his dreams of his own business something unrealistic.
«Imagine?» He chuckled. «Sometimes dreams come true. Though not as you plan… Listen, maybe we’ll have coffee? There’s a great place here.»
In the past, she would have hesitated. She would have thought about what Andrei would think or what people would say. But now…
«Let’s.»
In the cafe, it smelled of cinnamon and fresh croissants. Mikhail talked about his life: how he moved to St. Petersburg, how he started from scratch, how he failed and rose again.
«And you?» he asked, pausing.
«I… am learning to live anew,» she answered after a moment of thought.
«Something happened?»
«My husband left. Said it’s impossible to live with you.»
She expected to hear standard words of sympathy, but instead, Mikhail looked at her attentively:
«And how does it feel to be impossible?»
She laughed—sincerely, lightly, for the first time in a long while.
«You know… It turns out that everything is possible. Even what I had long forgotten to dream about.»
«For example?»
«For example… sitting in a cafe with a person I considered almost a stranger, and talking about life.»
«Almost a stranger?» Mikhail raised an eyebrow. «What about those three months in the library?»
«That was twenty-three years ago.»
«Then it’s time to continue what started,» he smiled. «How about trying?»
And again, instead of the usual «no,» she heard her own voice:
«Let’s try.»
Outside, the rain fell, washing away the last traces of autumn. And she realized that freedom was exactly this feeling: the smell of coffee, raindrops on the window, and the opportunity to start everything anew.
Andrei sat in his chair, watching as Lena packed her things. Three months ago, he had watched Olga in the same way, as she neatly packed her things into a suitcase. Now, Lena threw them inside chaotically, without looking.
«And you know what?» she turned abruptly. «You’re just a coward! Ran away from your wife because she’s supposedly too right. But in reality—it’s you who’s boring!»
He wanted to argue, but she didn’t let him speak:
«Thought it would be a perpetual holiday with me? Mistaken! I’m a person too. I need normal relationships. Joint plans. Confidence in tomorrow.»
«But you always said we need to live in the moment, catch the thrill…»
«God, you’re so naive!» she exclaimed. «That was a pretty quote for social media! But in real life, I want something more serious than random meetings and spontaneous trips.»
Andrei looked at her and didn’t recognize the bright, carefree girl who had won his heart. Where was the one who laughed at «dullards obsessed with stability»?
«You know what’s the funniest?» Lena zipped up the suitcase. «You left your wife because she’s ‘too right.’ And now you complain that I’m ‘not right.’ Who can you please?»
«I didn’t…»
«What ‘didn’t’? Didn’t mean this? Didn’t imagine it this way?» She bitterly smiled. «How did you imagine? That I would always flutter around, demanding nothing in return? That I would never want more?»
He was silent. What could he say?
«You didn’t even bother to find decent housing,» Lena continued, her voice even, but now hints of fatigue were audible. «We’re crammed in this studio, like freshmen. ‘Later,’ only that ‘later’ never comes. Right?»
Lena approached the mirror, automatically adjusted her lipstick.
«You know what? I’m even grateful to you. You helped me figure myself out. Yes, I want a family. I want children, my own house. And there’s nothing shameful about that. And you… you just don’t know what you want yourself.»
She grabbed the suitcase:
«Goodbye. And say hi to Olga when you crawl back on your knees begging for forgiveness.»
«Why do you think…» he tried to object.
«Come on,» she smiled again. «It’s a typical scenario. Only the problem is that she probably won’t even listen to you now.»
The door slammed shut. In the empty apartment, only a faint scent of her perfume lingered—the very one that once seemed so seductive to him. Now it seemed artificial, cloying.
Andrei approached the window. Downstairs, Lena quickly got into a taxi and drove away, not even looking back.
He pulled out his phone, opened social networks. There she was still as bright, energetic: photos with captions like «Live in the moment!» and «Enjoy life!» Beautiful appearance, flawless filters. But now he saw: it was just a picture. Behind it was the same thing as with Olga. A desire for stability, confidence in tomorrow. Exactly what he was afraid of, what he had run away from. And now he realized—he had just replaced one reality with an illusion. The new always seems better than the usual until you get used to it…
Olga looked at her reflection in the mirror and was surprised. Almost nothing had changed externally—except maybe a new sparkle in her eyes, as if a small flame had ignited inside. But inside, everything had changed beyond recognition.
«Unusual?» Mikhail appeared behind her, his reflection smiling in the mirror.
They were in the same cafe where they met two months ago. During this time, she learned that he could do something unique: really listen. Unhurriedly, without advice, just being there and understanding.
«You know,» she took a sip of cappuccino, «I realized that all these years I played someone else’s role. A convenient wife. The right woman. But now…»
«But now?»
«Now I’m living a real life.»
Mikhail smiled:
«And what’s it like to feel free?»
She pondered. How to explain a feeling when you don’t have to meet others’ expectations? When you can be yourself, whoever you are. When every day becomes an opportunity for new discoveries…
«Olga?»
Her heart paused. That voice. Andrei stood at their table, clearly embarrassed, glancing from her to Mikhail.
«Hello,» she said calmly.
«Long time no see.»
«Yes…» he hesitated. «You… you’ve changed.»
«Really?» she tilted her head to the side. «I think it’s you who’s changed. You look… tired.»
Indeed, he was different. The once impeccable suit now looked rumpled, and his eyes showed bewilderment.
«Can I talk to you?» he cast a cautious glance at Mikhail. «Alone.»
«Why?» the simple question threw him off.
«I… wanted to say…» he paused, searching for words. «During this time, I’ve understood a lot.»
«For example?»
«That it wasn’t about you. It’s me… I just didn’t know what I wanted.»
In the past, these words would have made her heart beat faster. In the past, she would have seen hope in them. But now…
«Thank you,» she smiled softly. «I’ve learned a lot too.»
«What do you mean?»
«That we no longer need each other, Andrei. You taught me an important lesson—to live for myself. And I’m endlessly grateful to you for that.»
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Perhaps that was indeed the case.
«So… it’s all over?»
«Yes, it’s all over,» she nodded. «Good luck to you.»
He stood for a few more seconds, as if about to add something, but couldn’t decide. Then he turned and left.
«Interesting meeting,» Mikhail noted when Andrei disappeared behind the door.
«Yes, strange.» She looked at him. «I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.»
«Is that good?»
«It’s… just is.»
Outside, the rain fell—just like that day when they met here for the first time.
Andrei stood at the window of his temporary apartment. Three months had passed since he accidentally met Olga in the cafe. These three months had completely changed his view on life.
He was sure he knew Olga. Twenty years of married life—that’s a serious term. But the woman in the cafe… She was not like the Olga he knew before. Exactly such, alive and open, he had always dreamed of seeing her. Only it happened after he had left.
The phone vibrated—a message from the realtor:
«Tomorrow at 10:00, showing a new apartment?»
Andrei ignored it. For the fourth month in a row, he went to view apartments, but none of them evoked any response. Each felt empty, as if something important was missing. Maybe it wasn’t about the apartments?
The doorbell rang. At the threshold stood a neighbor—an energetic septuagenarian with a kind smile.
«Andrei Petrovich, the computer is acting up again. Could you take a look?»
He nodded. Over the last months, this had become a kind of ritual. Once a week, she found a reason to ask him to «fix the computer,» then treated him to tea and shared stories of her long life.
«You know,» she said, as he again set up video chat for her to talk with her grandchildren, «I once left my husband too.»
Andrei looked up in surprise.
«Really?»
«Yes,» she nodded. «It seemed to me that life was too monotonous, and I deserved more. I left for a young, lively person. But over time, I realized—happiness was not where I was looking for it.»
«And where was it then?»
«In the ability to appreciate what you have,» she replied, looking at him with her wise eyes. «But usually, you realize it too late.»
He thoughtfully looked out the window. There, in the neighboring house, a young couple was moving furniture into a new apartment. The girl laughed, the boy pretended to be dissatisfied, but his eyes read endless tenderness.
«And did you… return to your husband?» he asked.
«No,» she shook her head. «By that time, he had already remarried. But you know what I realized? Happiness isn’t flashes of bright emotions. It’s the little things. Morning coffee, a favorite cup, a person who knows all your habits and accepts them.»
Andrei remembered how Olga always left him notes with reminders. How she anticipated which shirt he would choose for an important meeting. How she felt his mood without a word.
And he considered all this boring…
«Thank you for the tea,» he stood up. «I have to go.»
«Of course,» she smiled, as if understanding his thoughts. «Come again.»
At home, he opened his laptop. Lena’s page was filled with new photos—now with another man. The same captions about «living in the moment,» the same perfect picture.
And in his mind echoed Olga’s words: «Lose, to find.»
She found herself. And him? He replaced reality with illusion. Chased a facade and lost the real thing.
