“Sweetheart, the delivery is here,” she heard Alexey’s voice. When Raisa rang her best friend’s doorbell, she never expected to see her husband there.
“Sweetheart, the delivery is here,” she heard Alexey’s voice. When Raisa rang her best friend’s doorbell, she never expected to see her husband there.
Her mother always said that Raisa and Irina had met before they were even born, because Tamara Vasilyevna was friends with Irina’s mother, and it just so happened that they got pregnant at almost the same time.
Of course, Tamara Vasilyevna and her friend dreamed that their children would definitely become friends. And if one had a boy and the other a girl, then perhaps they might even become family one day. But both gave birth to girls, so the two were simply destined to be friends. They played together, went to the same kindergarten, sat at the same desk in school, let each other copy homework in class, and shared their most intimate secrets.
Raisa knew that in school Irina had been in love with a teacher, and no one else knew that secret. And Irina knew that Raisa was terribly afraid of her mother and missed her father, who had left them and abandoned Tamara Vasilyevna without child support.
Probably no one was closer to Raisa than Irina. After all, who else could Raisa be friends with, if not the daughter of her mother’s friend? Everyone else, it seemed, was unworthy of Raisa’s friendship.
In adult life, Raisa and Irina began seeing each other less often, even though neither of them had children. At first, their work schedules did not match, and later, when things settled down, Irina started traveling a lot. And while Raisa never had much luck with wealthy men, Irina was luckier in that regard.
First, she married the owner of some hotel, but after a while she divorced him, winning part of his property in court. After that, she was able to live comfortably for some time and enjoy all the pleasures of life on her own.
But sooner or later the money was bound to run out, and Irina began searching for a suitable man again. That was how she changed one partner after another and never complained about life. But as she approached thirty, all those adventures began to tire her, so she decided to return to her hometown and started living in a small one-room apartment not far from Raisa and Alexey.
She never remarried and did not plan to have children. She always called herself a hedonist and said that life was meant to bring nothing but pleasure. It was Irina who kept urging Raisa to break free from her mother’s control.
“You listen to her far too much,” Irina would say. “You should have stopped caring about her opinion ages ago and lived the way you want. At least you didn’t get married on command, so that’s something.”
“Sunshine, the delivery’s here,” she heard Alexey’s voice say. When Raisa rang the doorbell of her best friend’s apartment, she never expected to find her own husband there.
Raisa’s mother had always said that Raisa and Irina had met before they were even born, because Tamara Vasilyevna had been friends with Irina’s mother, and it just so happened that they became pregnant at almost the same time.
Of course, Tamara Vasilyevna and her friend dreamed that their children would definitely be friends. And if one had a boy and the other a girl, then perhaps they might even become family one day. But both babies turned out to be girls, so it seemed they were simply destined to be friends. They played together, went to the same kindergarten, sat at the same desk in school, let each other copy homework in class, and shared their deepest secrets.
Raisa knew that in school Irina had been in love with a teacher, and no one else knew that secret. And Irina knew that Raisa was terribly afraid of her mother and missed her father, who had left them and abandoned Tamara Vasilyevna without child support.
Probably no one in the world was closer to Raisa than Irina. After all, who else could Raisa be friends with if not the daughter of her mother’s friend? Everyone else, in Tamara Vasilyevna’s eyes, was beneath Raisa’s friendship.
As adults, Raisa and Irina began seeing each other less often, even though neither of them had children. At first, their work schedules didn’t match, and then, once life settled down, Irina started traveling a lot. And while Raisa had never had much luck with wealthy men, Irina had done much better in that department.
First, Irina married the owner of some hotel, but after a while she divorced him and managed to win part of his property in court. After that, she lived comfortably for some time and enjoyed all the pleasures of life on her own.
But sooner or later, the money was bound to run out, and Irina started looking for a suitable man again. She changed partners one after another and never complained about life. But as she neared thirty, all those adventures began to tire her, so she decided to return to her hometown and started living in a small one-bedroom apartment not far from Raisa and Alexey.
She never married again and had no plans to have children. She always called herself a hedonist and said that life was meant to bring pleasure and nothing else. It was Irina, more than anyone, who pushed Raisa to break free from her mother’s control.
“You listen to her too much,” Irina would say. “You should’ve stopped caring about her opinion ages ago and just lived the way you want. At least you didn’t get married by her order, so that’s something.”
Irina was the person who had supported Raisa the most in her choice. Thanks to her, Raisa had managed to survive her mother’s criticism through the following years of marriage. Tamara Vasilyevna constantly mocked the modest lifestyle of Alexey and Raisa, though Raisa herself never thought they lived like poor people. How could you call people poor when they had a three-room apartment? And since they still had no children, the mortgage was almost paid off. Of course, the question of children also troubled Tamara Vasilyevna greatly. She had long wanted grandchildren, but in Raisa’s case it was just one more excuse to criticize her daughter.
“You couldn’t even find yourself a decent husband, and you still haven’t had children. You could’ve been a mother long ago, but instead you chose some loser.”
What was interesting was that Tamara Vasilyevna often held Irina up as an example to Raisa. Raisa loved her friend and never judged her lifestyle, but it seemed strange to her that her mother chose only the positive parts of Irina’s life and completely ignored the fact that Irina also had no children—and by her own choice, at that. And earlier she had changed men purely for financial gain, and in the end she wasn’t even married.
After her husband, Irina was the closest person in the world to Raisa, so when she saw Alexey’s car outside Irina’s building, Raisa simply froze in place. Thoughts spun through her head like gears. What was he doing here? It was a workday. Fine, Raisa had been let off early, but why was he here? Her first thought was that maybe something had happened—to Irina or to Alexey.
Maybe he had been fired and was afraid to tell her. In short, Raisa could imagine anything at all—except infidelity. Surely the two people closest to her couldn’t betray her.
Of course, she knew such things happened in life, and TV dramas often showed husbands betraying their wives with their best friends. But Irina and Alexey definitely couldn’t be like that. Raisa knew them inside out.
Ask her anything about either of them, and she would answer. So as she stepped into the elevator, she expected to see anything but this, and she braced herself for a serious conversation.
When she reached the right floor, she rang the doorbell. Nothing happened after the first ring. Then she rang a second time and heard some noise inside.
“Sunshine, the delivery’s here,” she heard Alexey’s voice say.
Wait—what had he just called Irina? Maybe Raisa had imagined it. Maybe it wasn’t Alexey’s voice at all. Maybe there was some other man visiting Irina. Maybe Alexey had lent her his car, since hers was in the shop.
But all hope vanished the moment the door opened. There, standing before her, was her husband wearing nothing but a towel. His hair was wet, as if he had just stepped out of the shower. At first Alexey had been smiling broadly, but the instant he saw Raisa, the smile disappeared from his face. For several seconds Raisa and Alexey stood there without saying a word. Both were equally stunned.
“Baby, are you coming soon? Why didn’t the courier ring the intercom?”
The “courier” hadn’t rung the intercom because Irina and Raisa had once been close enough that Raisa had a key to her building, just in case. So she had entered the building without any trouble.
“Move,” Raisa finally managed to say.
Alexey was still too stunned to react, so he simply stepped aside. Raisa slowly walked into the apartment, heading toward the voice.
“Why are you so quiet?” she heard Irina say again. Irina was in the bedroom. When Raisa entered, she saw her lying on the bed in black lace lingerie.
“Are we going to eat in here?” Irina asked, then turned around and saw Raisa. The instant she did, her face changed and she sprang up on the bed.
“Raisa? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.”
“Well,” Raisa said emotionlessly, “they let me leave early. I even brought you a cake. I thought we’d sit down and have some tea together. But apparently,” she said with a smile, “you already have someone here to drink tea with. So tell me—how do you like my husband?”
“Raisa, you weren’t supposed to see this,” Irina said, pulling the blanket over herself.
“Oh really? Were you planning to write me an epic poem about it instead? How long has this been going on?”
Then Raisa heard Alexey come up behind her. She turned to him and spat out in fury:
“How could you?!”
A faint smile appeared on Alexey’s face again. Raisa’s heart pounded with rage. Why was he reacting like that? Was he really not ashamed at all?
“You know, maybe this is fate. You were supposed to find out.”
“How dare you! How could either of you!”
Raisa was holding back tears with all her strength. They did not deserve to see her cry. She simply could not break down in front of them.
“Well, what did you expect?” Alexey shrugged. “Remember how good things were when we first got married? You were such a fun girl back then. We could do anything together, talk about anything. And then you started driving me crazy with this child business. ‘I want a baby, I want a baby.’ You nagged me to death. You stopped being a wife and turned into some kind of hysterical mother—and you hadn’t even given birth yet.”
“But you said so yourself…”
“What was I supposed to say to you? You flew into hysterics over everything. And when Irina came back, I saw the old you in her. She knows exactly what she wants from life and doesn’t demand from me what I can’t give. I should’ve married her from the start, not you.”
“She would never have wanted you before! You’re not some billionaire!”
“Well, as you can see, that doesn’t seem to bother her now,” Alexey replied.
“Raisa, please forgive me,” was all Irina could say. How dare she even ask for forgiveness?
“Here—choke on your cake,” Raisa snapped, hurling the cake straight into Irina’s face. Then, shoving her husband aside, she ran out of the apartment. At last, the tears came pouring out. Once she got home, Raisa cried for several hours.
Naturally, it ended in divorce. Raisa tried to make it happen as quickly as possible. She later found out that Irina and Alexey got married, but according to rumors, they split up after only six months. Alexey wrote to Raisa afterward, begging her to come back, but she would never have forgiven either him or Irina.
For another five years Raisa stayed alone. She didn’t even know if she would ever be able to trust men—or people in general—again, until she met Pavel. He already had two children, and she fell in love with them immediately. And even if God had not blessed her with children of her own, now Raisa could tell herself that everything in her life had turned out exactly the way it was meant to.
