The phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans just as I was dragging my suitcase across the slippery tiles of Domodedovo Airport. Rain drummed against the glass roof of the terminal, creating a cacophony of sounds that blended with announcements in three languages and the endless roar of the crowd.
“Katya,” the screen displayed.
My sister-in-law.
Strange. We rarely called each other, although our relationship had always been even, almost friendly. Not exactly close, but definitely warm. She was one of those people you could sit in silence with and not feel awkward.
“Hello,” I said, pressing the phone to my ear, trying to hear something through the chaos.
“Lena, where are you?”
“At the airport. Why?” There was a strange tension in Katya’s voice, one I had never noticed before. As if she had gathered her courage before an important conversation.
“Are you really that stupid?”
Her words hit me like a slap.
I stopped in the middle of the stream of passengers, and people immediately began moving around me from all sides, throwing irritated looks my way. Someone even muttered something about idiots who stop in the middle of the walkway.
“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
Katya had never—never!—spoken to me in that tone.
“Your husband bought you the ticket, didn’t he? Return it and go back home. A gift from fate is waiting for you…”
The call cut off.
I stared at the phone, feeling everything inside me tighten into a hard knot.
Around me, the bustle continued: mothers with children dragging overstuffed bags, businessmen with briefcases, tourists in bright jackets. The usual picture of a Monday morning at the airport.
But something had changed completely…
“Are you really that stupid?”
My sister-in-law’s phrase spun in my head like a broken record.
In seven years of knowing each other, Katya had never allowed herself anything like that. Even when I once again complained to her about Igor—her brother and my husband—for leaving dishes in the sink or forgetting birthdays, she would only nod sympathetically and say something like, “Men are all like that.”
I tried calling her back, but she didn’t answer. A second time, a third… silence.
My heart was pounding as if I had run a marathon.
Boarding for the flight to Sochi was announced.
I had decided on this vacation a month earlier, when I realized that if I didn’t escape somewhere for a few days, I would simply go crazy from routine. Work, home, work, home.
Igor had reacted to my idea with complete indifference.
“Well, go if you want. Just pay for it yourself. Money is tight for me right now,” he had said then.
And then suddenly, two days before departure, he offered to buy the tickets himself.
“I’ve been too stingy lately. I’m sorry. Let me pay for your trip. You deserve a rest.”
At the time, the gesture had seemed unexpectedly sweet. Igor knew how to be attentive when he wanted to be. He simply didn’t want to very often.
But now, standing in the airport with the phone in my hand, I suddenly realized that something was wrong.
Katya’s intonation, that strange certainty in her voice, the phrase about a “gift from fate”… It was as if she knew something I didn’t.
The crowd of passengers moved toward the boarding gate.
A flight attendant with a forced smile was checking tickets and passports. I stood to the side, gripping the suitcase handle so tightly my fingers hurt.
“Go back home.”
But why? And why was Katya so certain that I had to do it right now?
I sat down on a plastic chair in the waiting area and tried to put my thoughts in order. The plane left without me. I still hadn’t been able to make myself board. Instead, I sat there staring out the window at the planes taking off, feeling like a complete idiot.
The phone vibrated again. This time it was Igor.
“Lena? Are you already on the plane?”
“No, I…” I hesitated. How could I explain that I had canceled my trip because of a strange call from his sister? “The flight was delayed.”
“I see. Well, no big deal. You’ll still have a good rest afterward. By the way, I’ll be late today. We have a presentation for a new project.”
“Igor, has Katya called you?”
“Katya? No. Why? Did something happen?”
There wasn’t a drop of falseness in his voice. Just the usual tired tone of a person thinking about work and not expecting any traps from life.
“No, nothing. I just asked.”
“All right. Have a nice flight. See you Sunday.”
After my husband hung up, I sat in the airport for another half hour, trying to understand what to do next. Logic told me I should fly to Sochi, just as I had planned. A week by the sea, massages, a break from all problems.
But something inside me resisted that plan.
In the end, I took a taxi home, and an hour later I was already in our apartment in Lyubertsy.
In the kitchen sink, two mugs and a plate with the remains of scrambled eggs were sitting there. Strange. Igor usually had coffee and cookies for breakfast. He didn’t like scrambled eggs.
Maybe he had decided to vary the menu?
I washed the dishes, turned on the kettle, and tried calling Katya again. This time my sister-in-law answered immediately.
“I knew you wouldn’t fly,” she said instead of greeting me.
“Katya, can you explain what’s going on? Why did you speak to me like that?”
“Lena, I’m truly sorry. But I can’t watch this anymore.”
“Watch what?”
“My brother deceiving you. And you pretending not to notice anything.”
My heart dropped somewhere into my heels. I sank onto the kitchen stool, feeling my legs weaken.
“What are you talking about?”
“Lena, Igor has been seeing Vika from his department for six months now. You think I don’t know? They even rent an apartment together in Sokolniki.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were. He asked me to stay silent, said he would tell you everything himself when he was ready. Six months have passed, and he’s only gone further. Do you know why he sent you to Sochi? So he could calmly move his things to her place. In a couple of days, he was supposed to tell you he was leaving.”
I was silent, unable to say a single word. Only one thought pulsed in my head:
“This isn’t true, this isn’t true, this isn’t true.”
“Lena, do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” I croaked.
“I know this is awful. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. You’re a good person. You don’t deserve this.”
“And why did you decide I was ‘pretending’? Maybe I really didn’t notice anything?”
Katya was silent for a moment.
“Because you’re a smart woman. And because the changes in Igor’s behavior are too obvious. New clothes, new cologne, constant ‘late nights at work,’ the phone he never lets go of now… You saw all of it. You just didn’t want to believe it.”
She was right. Of course she was right. All those little things I had carefully ignored over the past months suddenly formed a clear picture.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked, not even knowing why.
“What you should have done a long time ago. Take your life into your own hands.”
After the conversation with Katya, I wandered around the apartment as if in a fog. Everything looked different. As if I had put on new glasses and suddenly saw details I had never paid attention to before.
The phone rang again. I stared at the name on the screen for a long time, unable to answer.
It was my mother.
She had some supernatural ability to sense my problems from a distance and immediately start giving advice I was not ready for.
“Lena, sweetheart, how are you? You flew to Sochi today, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t fly,” I muttered, collapsing onto the sofa.
“Why? Are you sick?”
“That doesn’t matter. Tell me something instead. Do you remember Dad… before the divorce?”
A tense pause followed. Mom had never liked talking about that period of her life.
“Lena, why do you need to know this?”
“Did you understand right away that he was cheating?”
“No, not right away. First there were suspicions, then denial. You know, the mind protects us very well from painful truths. You can keep finding explanations for strange things for a long time, just so you don’t have to admit the obvious.”
“And when did you finally realize it?”
“When I found another woman’s hair clip in his pocket. Stupid, right? I held it in my hands and thought, ‘That’s it. Now I can’t pretend nothing is happening anymore.’”
“And what did you feel in that moment?”
“Relief,” Mom said after a pause. “Can you imagine? Not pain, not anger. Relief. Because I could finally stop going crazy from doubts.”
After the call, I lay down on the sofa and simply lay there, digesting the information I had received.
Strangely, Mom was right. I really did feel something similar to relief. As if a puzzle I had been putting together for six months had finally come together, though I hadn’t understood what picture it was forming.
At half past six, a key turned in the lock. Igor entered the apartment with a large sports bag.
“Hi,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “Why are you home? Was the flight canceled?”
“Yes,” I lied, watching as he walked into the bedroom.
A few minutes later, my husband returned. His bag was noticeably fuller.
“I’m going to Seryoga’s. He bought a new game console. I might stay there if it gets late.”
“All right,” I said calmly. “Have fun.”
My husband froze, as if he had expected questions. But I stayed silent, and it clearly confused him.
“Well… see you tomorrow then.”
“Goodbye, Igor.”
The door closed.
Left alone, I picked up the phone and quickly dialed my sister-in-law’s number.
“Katya, I have an idea, but I need your help.”
“I’m listening.”
“You said he was planning to move his things to that… what’s her name?”
“Vika. Victoria Somova. They work in the same department.”
“Excellent. Do you know the address of their rented apartment?”
“I do. Why?”
“I want to give them a gift,” I said, feeling a smile appear on my face. “One they’ll remember for a long time.”
“Lena, just don’t make a scene under their windows. That would be humiliating.”
“I won’t make a scene. But I will arrange something. Listen carefully…”
For the next half hour, we discussed the details. At first Katya resisted, but then she got into it. It turned out revenge is a creative process that requires imagination and precise timing.
“Are you sure this will work?” my sister-in-law asked, nervously fiddling with the handle of her bag as we rode in a taxi to the building in Sokolniki.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I want to try.”
The plan was simple.
Katya worked as a pastry chef and made custom cakes. It was her hobby, but it brought in decent money. She always had ready-made sponge cake layers at home, and in half an hour she could create anything.
“By the way, I took the prettiest one! Two tiers, white, with little roses!” my sister-in-law said, patting the box on her lap. “I wrote the inscription in red frosting, just like you asked. ‘Happy Divorce Day! Finally Free!’”
“Isn’t it a shame? Such beauty will go to waste!” I snorted.
“Lena, he’s my brother, but what he’s doing is disgusting. You lived with him for seven years. You deserve honesty.”
The building turned out to be a new residential complex with a concierge. We went up to the seventh floor. I could feel my heart pounding hard.
“Maybe we shouldn’t?” Katya whispered at the door. “Maybe we should just talk to them like normal people.”
“No,” I said and pressed the doorbell. “He wanted to run off to his little beauty while I was away. So now he gets the full program!”
Igor opened the door. His face twisted into a grimace as if he had swallowed a lemon.
“Katya? Lena? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, brother,” Katya said, lifting the cake box. “We came to congratulate you on your housewarming!”
I stepped in after her, looking around.
The apartment was small, a studio, but cozy. On the sofa sat a pretty brunette of about thirty in a house robe. She looked at us with curiosity, clearly not understanding what was happening.
“Vika, meet my sister Katya and…” Igor stumbled, “my wife Lena.”
Wife. How strange it sounded from his mouth. As if he himself was surprised that I still held that status.
“Nice to meet you,” Vika said, getting up from the sofa.
I saw the rounded belly under her robe. She was pregnant.
“Congratulations,” I said, feeling everything inside me turn over. “When is the baby due?”
Vika looked at Igor in confusion.
“I… we…”
“In March,” Igor said quietly. “Lena, I wanted to tell you…”
“Tomorrow. I know!” I took the box from Katya. “But I decided not to wait for that festive moment!”
I placed the cake on the table and opened the lid of the box.
“‘Happy Divorce Day! Finally Free!’” Vika read aloud. “Is this… for me?”
“Actually, it’s for me,” I said. “But I can share it with you!”
A deathly silence fell. Igor stood pale, Vika pressed her hands to her stomach, and Katya silently studied the ceiling.
“Lena,” Igor began.
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Better tell me when the wedding is.”
“What wedding?” he didn’t understand.
“Well, the child should be born in a legal marriage, shouldn’t it? Do you think we’ll manage to sort everything out before March?”
Vika suddenly burst into tears.
“I didn’t know he was married,” she whispered. “He said he had been getting divorced for six months, that he lived alone…”
I looked at Igor in surprise. Pure horror was written on his face.
“Seriously?” I asked. “You lied to her too?”
“Lena, it’s complicated…”
“What’s complicated? Are you married or not? Are we divorced or not? Do we live together or not?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then what is there to talk about?”
Anger rolled over me in waves. Cheating on your wife was one thing. Lying to your mistress that your wife didn’t exist was something else entirely.
And then I lost control.
“You know what,” I said, sitting down in an armchair, “since we’re all gathered here, let me give you some wedding gifts. Three of them, in fact.”
“Lena, don’t…” Igor began, but I raised my hand.
“First gift. Our apartment in Lyubertsy belongs entirely to me. It was bought with my money and registered in my name. You won’t get a single square meter in the divorce. Don’t even dream about it.”
The man turned even paler.
“But we furnished it together. I helped with the renovation…”
“You helped with the renovation physically. I helped with money. Guess which one matters from a legal point of view?”
Vika stopped crying and began listening carefully. Apparently, she was starting to understand the scale of the disaster.
“Second gift,” I continued. “Those two million we were saving for a dacha are mine too. All the transfers to the savings account came from my card. And the cash you gave me doesn’t count. Do you have receipts? Written acknowledgments? Witnesses to bank transactions? You won’t be able to prove anything. All the savings are mine!”
“Lena, that’s unfair,” Igor rasped. “I gave you my entire salary…”
“You gave it in cash. And voluntarily. From a legal point of view, those were gifts to your loving wife for personal expenses.”
Katya stared at me in amazement.
“And the third, most valuable gift,” I said, getting up and heading toward the door. “It will be from my classmate Sveta Karpova. The very same woman who is your director. Before coming here, I called her. I told her about your touching office romances at work. Sveta is very particular about corporate ethics.”
“What did you do?” Igor jumped to his feet.
“By Monday, both of you will be fired under disciplinary grounds. Sveta will make an effort and find enough reasons to destroy your careers.”
Vika sobbed loudly.
“Lena, you can’t do this! We’re having a child!”
“Your child is your concern,” I shrugged. “You should have thought about that earlier.”
“Lena, I’m begging you,” Igor pleaded. “Don’t destroy everything so completely. For the child’s sake. We can come to an agreement…”
“We cannot!” I stepped back toward the door. “I don’t forgive dirty actions against me. And I don’t forgive betrayal. Also, I know how to take painful revenge on those who decided I was stupid and blind.”
“But the two million… the apartment… the job…” my husband babbled. “You’re leaving us with nothing!”
“And what did you leave me with?” I asked. “A broken heart and the status of an abandoned little fool who understood nothing! No, darling. I prefer a different scenario.”
Vika was sobbing out loud, holding her stomach. Igor looked at me helplessly. And I felt a strange calm and satisfaction.
“Lena,” Katya whispered quietly, “maybe that’s enough?”
“That’s enough. These inhuman people have had enough!”
“I didn’t want to hurt you…” Igor said softly.
“You didn’t want to be a man. Those are two different things.”
I opened the door and stepped out onto the stairwell. Katya followed me.
“You understand that I’m on your side, right?” she said as we went down in the elevator.
“I understand. Thank you. And the cake really was beautiful. Too bad it went to waste.”
“Not wasted. It had exactly the right effect.”
Outside, a light rain was drizzling, as if washing away the old life and preparing space for a new one.
“What are you going to do next?” Katya asked, calling a taxi.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Maybe I’ll still go to Sochi.”
“Good idea. Sea air, new impressions…”
“And no one who thinks I’m a stupid little fool,” I added.
The taxi arrived quickly. I got in and lowered the window.
“Katya, will you regret helping me?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Justice is a good thing. Even when it’s cruel.”
The car pulled away. In the rearview mirror, I saw Katya waving to me, then turning and walking back toward the entrance. Apparently, to deal with the consequences of our visit.
And I drove home, to my apartment, to my new life, where I no longer had to pretend I didn’t notice anything.