Alexander came home from work unusually early. His eyes were shining with a feverish excitement, and every movement he made was sharp and restless. He practically burst into the hallway, almost knocking into Maria, who was wiping the mirror at that moment.
“Masha, I’ve got great news!” he exclaimed, kicking off his shoes. “The boss approved the project. I’m flying to Saint Petersburg the day after tomorrow. Five-day business trip. I need to start packing right away!”
Maria smiled and set the cloth aside. She was used to this pace. Sasha worked as a development manager for a large retail chain, and trips were simply part of their life.
“To Saint Petersburg?” she asked. “That’s wonderful. But it’s cold and damp there right now. We’ll need to pack warm clothes.”
She immediately slipped into “caring wife” mode. Maria loved these moments. To her, there was a special cozy magic in them, something that made marriage feel warm and real. While Sasha rushed around the apartment, speaking to someone on the phone — he always went out onto the balcony for calls, blaming it on poor reception — Masha pulled out his suitcase.
She carefully folded his favorite wool sweater and a couple of warm turtlenecks.
“Sasha, should I pack your suit?” she called toward the balcony.
“What? Oh, yes! Definitely!” her husband replied, covering the phone with his hand. “We’ve got high-level meetings. Strict dress code.”
Masha ironed his dark blue blazer and chose a tie to match. She wanted her husband to look flawless. After all, he represented the company. It never even crossed her mind that this “strict business style” was not meant for conference rooms at all, but for expensive restaurants and theaters.
On the morning of his departure, Sasha was tenderness itself. He kissed his wife, promised to bring her a souvenir, and called a taxi to the airport.
“Don’t get too lonely here,” he said before leaving. “I’ll call whenever I can. You understand, the schedule is packed. Meetings nonstop.”
The door shut behind him. Silence settled over the apartment. Masha sighed, glanced at the empty coat rack, and went into the kitchen. Her heart felt a little heavy, but she comforted herself with the thought that five days would pass quickly.
Saturday evening dragged on painfully slowly. Masha had already done every chore in the house: washed the floors, did the laundry, even cleaned out the highest shelves in the closet. By seven in the evening, she realized she was completely exhausted and wanted nothing more than a simple, human kind of rest.
She had no desire to cook just for herself. She ordered a four-cheese pizza and turned on some melodrama. On the screen, people suffered and loved, while Masha felt lonely. She wanted to call Sasha, just to hear his voice. She dialed his number, but a mechanical voice answered, “The subscriber is temporarily unavailable.”
“He must be in a meeting already,” she thought.
To distract herself, she picked up her phone and opened a social network. Her feed was full of recipes, cats, and old classmates’ photos. Masha lazily scrolled down until her eyes caught a block titled “Recommendations.” The smart feed often suggested people from her city or possible acquaintances.
One of the photos showed Saint Isaac’s Cathedral. Majestic, covered with a snowy cap. Beautiful. Masha was about to scroll past it, but suddenly her heart clenched. In the foreground stood a couple: a red-haired woman in an expensive fur coat and a man with his arm around her. The man had his back to the camera, but that dark blue down jacket… and that hat. The same hat Masha had given him last New Year.
She zoomed in. A watch gleamed on the man’s wrist. The very same watch, with its distinctive dial, that Sasha wore every single day.
“No…” Masha whispered. Her hands began to tremble, and the slice of pizza slipped from her fingers onto the sofa.
She tapped on the woman’s profile. “Angela K.” Her page was open. Masha began scrolling, and with every photo, it felt as if the air was being pumped out of her lungs.
Here was a photo from today: “We’re in Saint Petersburg! My love made it feel like a fairy tale!” In the picture stood Sasha — now facing the camera — smiling wider than he had smiled beside his wife in a very long time.
Here was a photo from a month earlier: “Moscow, Red Square, out for a walk.” Back then, Sasha had told her he was going to a training seminar.
She kept scrolling.
Summer.
“Adler, the sea, the sun, and him.” Sasha in swimming trunks, tanned and happy. He had told Masha at the time that he had been sent to a branch in the Krasnodar region to check reports and had not even had a chance to see the sea.
The entire year.
The whole damned year, while Masha had waited for him in the evenings, cooked his dinners, and believed in his “hard work,” he had been living another life. A bright, rich life full of travel.
The captions under the photos destroyed her: “With my sweet boy,” “Thank you, my love, for the gift,” “Happiness exists.” And everywhere — hearts, kisses, affection.
Masha threw the phone away from herself as if it were a poisonous snake. She felt sick. She ran to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, but she could not drink it. Her body was shaking too violently. One thought spun endlessly in her head: “How? How could he? I packed his suitcase… I ironed his shirts… for her.”
The night passed in a haze. Masha drifted into shallow sleep, then woke again and grabbed her phone, hoping she had imagined it all. But the photos had not disappeared. Worse, by morning, a new story had appeared: Sasha and Angela having breakfast in bed at a luxury hotel overlooking the Neva.
Masha called her friend, Lera.
“Lera, please come over. I really need you.”
Lera arrived within half an hour. When she saw the photos, she launched into such a furious tirade that even a dockworker would have blushed.
“What a bastard! What a pig!” Lera shouted, pacing around the kitchen. “Masha, this is classic! Just look at that redhead! Dressed head to toe in brands, lips pumped up like balloons. She’s a predator!”
“He lied to me for a whole year,” Masha said quietly, staring into nothing. “He told me he was exhausted. That work was in crisis, so there was less money. I was saving, Lera. I bought groceries on discount so he’d have enough for gas. And he…”
“And he was milking you while partying with that painted doll!” Lera grabbed Masha by the shoulders. “Listen to me. Right now, we get trash bags. All his clothes go in them. Then straight to the dumpster. Or better yet, off the balcony!”
“No,” Masha said, shaking her head. “I can’t do that. I need to look him in the eyes. Let him explain. Maybe… maybe he got confused.”
“Confused?” Lera rolled her eyes. “Masha, he’s been ‘confused’ at resorts for a year! That’s not a mistake. That’s a choice. But fine. You want drama, then wait. Just don’t you dare forgive him.”
Masha spent the entire weekend as if trapped in fog. Sasha did not answer her calls. He only sent a couple of dry messages: “Too much work, don’t worry. Love you.”
Sasha returned on Wednesday evening.
Masha was sitting in the dark kitchen. She heard the lock click, heard him come in, humming something under his breath. He smelled of expensive women’s perfume — sweet and sharp. Before, Masha had never paid attention to that scent. She had thought she was imagining it. Now she knew. It was the smell of his Angela.
“Mashunya, I’m home!” he called cheerfully. “You have no idea what kind of trip it was! I’m completely drained. Negotiations went on for ten hours at a time.”
He entered the kitchen, switched on the light, and froze. Masha was sitting at the table, her hands folded in front of her. On the table lay her phone, open to a photo of Sasha kissing the red-haired woman in front of Saint Isaac’s Cathedral.
Sasha stopped dead. His smile slowly slid off his face, replaced by irritation and… boredom. Just irritation, like a schoolboy caught smoking.
“You know,” Masha said quietly, “I’m not even going to ask how the negotiations went. I’ll ask something else. Do you really think I’m a complete idiot?”
Sasha walked to the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and drank straight from it.
“Why did you have to poke around where you didn’t belong?” he asked tiredly. “We were living just fine. But no, you had to ruin everything with your spying.”
“I ruined it?” Masha stood up. “You’ve been lying to my face for a year! You’ve been living with another woman for a year! You travel with her to resorts while I wait for you at home!”
“Yes, I do!” Sasha suddenly barked. “Because she’s interesting! She’s alive, she’s bright! And you? Home, work, work, home. Deadly boredom. Pizza on weekends and TV shows. I’m suffocating with you!”
“Then why didn’t you leave?” Masha shouted. “Why lie?”
Sasha smirked, and the smirk was frightening.
“Why leave? I had a comfortable setup here. Clean shirts, dinner, everything taken care of. There, I had celebration. Here, I had a service base. Convenient. It was convenient until you stuck your nose into the internet.”
“Get out,” Masha said. “Pack your things and go to your celebration.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Sasha said arrogantly, sitting down on a chair. “I was planning to anyway. And since we’re telling the truth now… I haven’t worked for a year. I was fired last winter.”
Masha’s legs nearly gave way. She sat back down.
“What? Then what have you been living on? And the money you brought home…”
“Angela gives it to me,” Sasha shrugged. “She has her own business, a chain of beauty salons. She supports me. Car, clothes, trips — all of it is from her. And the money I gave you ‘for the household’ was just crumbs from the lord’s table so you wouldn’t whine. I’m sort of her personal assistant… and not only that.”
Masha looked at him and did not recognize him. Sitting in front of her was a kept man. A cynical, self-loving parasite.
“You disgust me,” she whispered.
“Mutual, darling. Mutual,” he said, rising. “I’ll pack now. But keep in mind, I’m not leaving empty-handed. This apartment was bought during our marriage. We renovated it. By law, half of it is mine. I’ll file for division of property. Angela will hire the best lawyers. So get ready either to sell it and split the money, or to buy out my share. I need funds for my new life.”
He headed toward the bedroom, feeling like the winner.
Masha took a deep breath. Her tears had dried. She followed him into the bedroom. Sasha was already throwing things into the very same suitcase his wife had packed for him with love five days earlier.
“You won’t get anything, Sasha,” she said calmly, leaning against the doorframe.
He laughed without even turning around.
“Oh, don’t make me laugh. Read the Family Code. Property acquired during marriage is split in half.”
“The apartment was not acquired jointly,” Masha said, each word clear and firm. “It was bought with money my father gave me. Everything was officially documented. I have a notarized gift agreement for that amount. We didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement, but the law is absolutely on my side here. Property bought with one spouse’s personal funds, received as a gift, is not subject to division.”
Sasha froze with a sock in his hand. Slowly, he turned around.
“You’re lying. We chose the wallpaper together…”
“You can peel off the wallpaper and take it with you,” Masha allowed. “But the walls, the floor, and the ceiling are mine. You’re only registered here, and even that is temporary. Tomorrow I’m filing for divorce, and I’ll have you removed through the court as a former family member.”
Red blotches spread across Sasha’s face. He was not strong in legal matters, but Masha’s confidence frightened him.
“You… you wouldn’t dare! I’ll drag you through the courts! Angela will help me!”
“Try,” Masha said, crossing her arms. “Now get out. Leave the keys on the nightstand.”
In a rage, Sasha zipped up the suitcase.
“To hell with you! I’m leaving for a luxurious life! Angela loves me! She has a country cottage. I’ll live like a king while you rot here in your little two-room apartment!”
He grabbed the suitcase, shoved Masha with his shoulder, and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Sasha sped toward Angela’s house, boiling with righteous anger.
“Fine,” he thought. “Angela will handle everything. She has connections. We’ll strip that gray mouse down to nothing. And I’ll finally live openly, without hiding from anyone.”
He imagined how happy Angela would be that he now belonged entirely to her. Forever.
The car stopped at the tall wrought-iron gates of an elite residential community. Sasha paid the fare — with a card linked to Angela’s account, by the way — and confidently pressed the intercom button.
“Who is it?” Angela’s irritated voice asked.
“It’s me, kitten! Sasha! Open up, I have a surprise!”
The gates clicked open. Sasha walked up the path toward the house, dragging his suitcase behind him. The door opened. Angela stood on the threshold in a silk robe. But she did not look happy. She looked frightened and furious.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “Have you lost your mind? Why do you have a suitcase?”
“Angela, I left my wife!” Sasha announced triumphantly, spreading his arms. “She found out everything. There was a scandal. I told her I love you and that I’m moving in with you. Now we’ll be together forever!”
He tried to step inside, but Angela pressed both hands against his chest and blocked his way.
“Are you an idiot?” she asked in an icy voice. “What do you mean, ‘moving in’?”
“But… we love each other… You said…”
“Sasha, are you stupid or just pretending?” she interrupted. “I’m married! My husband is fifty, and he’s a serious man. He’s flying back from Germany tonight! Why do you think I kept you around? For entertainment while he was away! You were my holiday boy, my travel toy… but not someone for real life!”
Sasha’s jaw dropped.
“But… you gave me gifts… we were in Saint Petersburg…”
“That was a whim. I was bored. And now I’m not bored. I’m terrified my husband will see you standing in front of my house with suitcases! Get out of here immediately!”
“Angela, I have nowhere to go!” Sasha howled as the ground seemed to vanish beneath his feet. “She kicked me out! I don’t have a job!”
“That’s your problem, darling. I’m not going to support you permanently and destroy my marriage over an infantile kept man. That’s it. Goodbye. And forget my number. I’m blocking you.”
The door slammed shut right in his face. Sasha remained standing on the porch in the darkness, with a suitcase full of “official” suits. A light rain began to fall.
Masha changed the locks the very next day. She filed for divorce and attached all the necessary documents. Sasha tried to come back. Three days after Angela blocked his card, after his money ran out and his friends grew tired of listening to him whine on their sofas, he came to Masha.
He stood outside the door and begged.
“Mashunya, forgive me. I was a fool. The devil led me astray. She drugged me, trapped me, twisted my head. I only love you. Let’s start over. I’ll get a job…”
Masha listened to him through the closed door. It hurt.
“Sasha,” she said loudly, “leave. The ‘service base’ is closed forever.”
She did not open the door.
Two months later, they were officially divorced. Sasha tried to sue for the apartment, but, just as Masha had predicted, the law was not on his side. And by then, he no longer had money for expensive lawyers.
Masha rearranged the furniture and threw out the old sofa where she had eaten that miserable slice of pizza. She learned to live for herself, and she discovered that she liked it.
As for Sasha… someone recently saw him at a shopping mall. He was working as a sales consultant in the men’s fragrance department. And every time a well-groomed woman in an expensive fur coat walked into the store, he followed her with the sad, hungry stare of a beaten dog.
