Rita stood in the bedroom doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame, twirling a glass of unfinished prosecco in her hand. In the living room, music was booming, Oleg’s laughter rang out, and plates clinked, but here, in the half-darkness among the mountain of gift boxes, the air had suddenly become thick and sticky.
Marina froze with lipstick in her hand. Her reflection in the mirror — a thirty-year-old woman in a perfect silk dress — seemed unfamiliar and fragile.
“Rita, if this is another attempt to ruin my party because Dad bought me a vacation package and not you, then you’ve gone too far,” Marina said quietly, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
“Oh, stop it,” her sister snorted, stepping into the room. “Vacation packages are nothing. I saw them yesterday at Globus. In the home goods section. Your faithful husband and your ‘almost sister’ Katya were choosing a baby crib. And you know what? Katya didn’t look upset. She looked four months pregnant.”
“They’re colleagues, Rita. They could have just…”
“Been buying a crib at nine in the evening while tenderly holding hands? Marina, wake up! She was glowing like a polished kettle, and Oleg kissed the top of her head right there by the checkout.”
Marina slowly placed the lipstick on the dressing table. A roar filled her head. Katya. Katya, who had been by her side for the past ten years. Katya, who had helped her choose this very dress. Katya, who a month ago had complained about “stomach problems” and strange weakness.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Marina asked, turning around.
“When else? When they come to visit you after she gives birth? I couldn’t watch you shine beside that cheater. Go and ask him. He’s in the hallway, seeing off the courier.”
Marina stepped into the hallway, feeling as if her cotton-like legs could barely obey her. Oleg was just closing the door, holding an enormous bouquet of lilies. Her favorites.
“Marin, look what was delivered! Who is it from? There’s no card,” he said, smiling with that same open, kind smile she had once fallen in love with.
“Oleg, we need to talk. Now. In the study.”
“Did something happen? The guests are waiting. We haven’t even cut the cake yet.”
“To hell with the cake,” she snapped.
They entered the small room lined with books. Oleg placed the bouquet on the table and looked at his wife anxiously.
“You’re pale. Do you feel sick?”
“Rita saw you yesterday. At Globus. With Katya.”
The silence that fell in the study was deafening. The music from the living room seeped through the walls as a dull, uneven thud. Oleg did not look away, but his face seemed to turn to stone. Slowly, he sank into an armchair.
“She saw you in the children’s furniture section,” Marina continued, feeling a cold fire flare up in her chest. “Is it true?”
“Marin, I wanted to tell you… I was looking for the right moment.”
“The right moment? You were looking for the right moment to tell me that my best friend is carrying your child? We’ve been married for seven years, Oleg! We spent five years getting treatment, going from clinic to clinic. You were the one who said we were fine just the two of us!”
“I was fine!” he suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet. “But you see, Katya… she just got pregnant. Naturally. No schedules, no pills, none of that endless waiting in lines to see fertility specialists. With her, I stopped feeling like a patient in a laboratory.”
“So it’s the doctors’ fault? And my infertility?” Marina felt a tear slide down her cheek, leaving a dark streak. “How long has this been going on?”
“Six months.”
“Six months? She sat at my table! She drank tea with me a week ago and recommended a new osteopath!”
“She wanted to leave,” Oleg said dully. “But I didn’t let her. I can’t abandon the child, Marina. You know how badly I wanted a son.”
“And me? You can abandon me?”
“I didn’t want to abandon you. I thought… I thought we could somehow work it out. I would help her, acknowledge the child…”
“Are you serious?” Marina gave a bitter laugh. “You planned to live between two families? Oleg, this isn’t a soap opera on Channel Two. This is my life.”
There was a knock at the door. Katya’s voice — bright, slightly guilty — made Marina shudder.
“Marin, Oleg? Where did you disappear to? The taxi is here. The Ivanovs are leaving.”
Marina yanked the door open. Katya stood in the hallway, covering her stomach with a light stole. When she saw Marina’s face, she stepped back.
“Oh, I’m probably interrupting…”
“Come in, Katya. We were just discussing the interior of your future nursery. Rita says you two picked out a wonderful crib.”
Katya turned so pale that the freckles on the bridge of her nose became visible. She looked at Oleg, searching for support, but he stood with his head lowered.
“Marin, listen… I didn’t want it to happen this way. It was an accident. One night after a corporate party. We’d both had too much to drink…”
“One night?” Marina took a step forward. “Oleg says six months. Which one of you should I believe? Though what difference does it make? How far along are you?”
“Sixteen weeks,” Katya whispered, and suddenly there was a spark of defiance in her eyes. “Yes, sixteen weeks. And I’m going to have this baby. Oleg promised he wouldn’t leave us.”
“I see you’ve already decided everything,” Marina said, feeling the strange clarity that comes after shock. “Right on my birthday. What a magnificent gift.”
“We didn’t want it to happen today!” Oleg cut in. “Rita ruined everything with her spy games!”
“Rita did what you should have done four months ago,” Marina snapped. She turned to her friend. “Katya, leave. Right now. Take your coat and disappear.”
“Marin, don’t get worked up,” Oleg tried to take her hand. “Let’s discuss everything tomorrow, after the guests leave.”
“The guests are leaving now. And you’re leaving with them.”
“You’re kicking me out? Because of one mistake?”
“One mistake is buying the wrong kind of bread, Oleg. Six months of lies with my best friend is a sentence. Go to her. Since you’ve already chosen the crib, it’s time to choose an apartment too.”
“I have nothing there!” Oleg shouted. “I love this home!”
“And I loved you. But right now, looking at the two of you, all I feel is nausea. Katya, what are you waiting for? Stress is bad for you. Go.”
Katya sniffled and, without looking at Oleg, headed toward the exit. The hurried rustling of hangers could be heard from the hallway.
Marina returned to the study and sat on the edge of the desk. She stared at the bouquet of lilies. The lilies smelled too sweet, almost suffocating.
“Marina,” Oleg stepped closer, his voice turning coaxing. “Think about it. Where am I supposed to go? We’re thirty years old, we have joint accounts, a country house, a dog. So she gives birth, I pay child support, and everything goes back to normal. We’re family.”
“Family doesn’t stab you in the back while you’ve closed your eyes from happiness, Oleg. You didn’t just cheat. You replaced me. In the place that hurt the most.”
“If you could have given birth, none of this would have happened!” he suddenly burst out. “You became obsessed with your test results! You turned our life into a tour of hospitals! And Katya… with her, it was easy.”
Marina fell silent. Those words hurt more than the news of the affair itself. She remembered all those nights when she had cried in the bathroom so he wouldn’t see her weakness. She remembered how he had held her and whispered, “It’s okay. The most important thing is that we’re together.” It turned out that had only been a mask.
“Now it will be even easier for you,” she said quietly. “You’ll have a child. You’ll have Katya. And no more tests. Pack your things. Only the essentials. You can come for the rest later, when I’m not home.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Oleg was no longer pleading; he was angry. “You’ll be alone. Who needs you at thirty with your character and your problems?”
“Better to be alone than with someone who sees my pain as a convenient excuse for betrayal.”
Oleg left ten minutes later. Marina heard him loudly explaining to the guests that “Marina wasn’t feeling well,” heard doors slamming, heard the laughter fade.
Rita entered the room last. She came up to her sister and silently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry I was so harsh. But I couldn’t stay silent anymore.”
“Thank you, Rita. Truly. I probably would have lived another year in that cocoon of lies.”
“What are you going to do now?”
Marina looked at the lilies. She took the vase and resolutely carried it out onto the balcony, leaving it there in the cold spring wind.
“To start with, I’m going to drink some wine. And tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll call a lawyer. And you know what’s strangest?”
“What?”
“For the first time in five years, I don’t feel like crying because I’m not pregnant. I think I’ve just thrown off a huge, heavy weight I’d been carrying for both of us.”
Marina walked over to the window. Down below, by the entrance, Oleg was getting into a taxi, where Katya was waiting for him in the back seat. The car pulled away and disappeared around the corner.
“Rita,” Marina called.
“Yes?”
“Throw away the cake. I want to order pizza. The unhealthiest one, with double cheese. And let’s open that bottle of wine Dad sent from France after all. I think my real birthday is only beginning now.”
Marina returned to the mirror. She wiped away the smudged mascara and fixed her hair. From the reflection, a woman looked back at her — a little tired, with red eyes, but free. And that freedom was worth surviving this evening.
The living room became quiet again, but this was no longer the oppressive silence of waiting. It was the calm silence of a blank page. Marina knew it would be difficult ahead: the divorce, the division of property, the gossip from mutual acquaintances. But she had already done the most important thing — she had chosen herself.
“Rita!” she called into the hallway. “And find the number of that travel agency in my phone. I think I do need that vacation package after all. And I’m going there alone. That is, with myself.”
Her sister peeked into the room, smiling.
“That’s my Marina. And I’ve already ordered the pizza. With pineapple, just the way you like it, and who cares that Oleg couldn’t stand it.”
Marina laughed. For the first time that evening, it was a sincere, living laugh. She took off her high heels, tossed them aside, and went to the kitchen — toward her new, honest life.
