Her Ex-Husband Showed Up on Her Doorstep Five Years After the Divorce and Brought a Surprise No One Expected
Irina was putting damp sheets into the laundry basket. The day had gone well. In the morning, Olya had called from work and told her about a new project. Then her friend Svetka came over, and they drank tea with cake. They talked about a vacation in Sochi.
“Irishka, you’re a completely different person now,” Svetka said. “Do you remember what you were like three years ago?”
She remembered. She cried every day and couldn’t sleep. But now? Now she liked living alone. No one yelled because the soup was too salty. No one lay around on the couch with a drink.
The doorbell interrupted her thoughts.
“Who is it?” Irina called out.
Silence.
She went to the peephole. A man was standing on the landing with a bouquet of roses and a suitcase. A very familiar man.
“My God…” Irina whispered.
Her heart began pounding so hard that her ears rang. Her hands started shaking.
“Irochka, it’s me,” a voice said. “Please open the door.”
Andrey. Her ex-husband. The very same man who, three years ago, had left her for a young fool from their building. The very same man who had said, “I’m sick of your hysterics.”
“What do you want?” Irina did not open the door.
“I want to talk. It’s very important.”
“We already discussed everything in court.”
“Ir, I came from Moscow. Especially for this. I have… a surprise for you.”
A surprise? What kind of surprise? Had he brought his new lover to show her off?
“I don’t need your surprises.”
“Please. Five minutes. I’m standing here on my knees.”
Irina leaned against the door. Everything in her head became a mess. Why had he come? What had happened? And most importantly, why did she need this?
“Irishka, please open the door. The neighbors are already watching.”
She looked through the peephole. Indeed, Aunt Valya from the third floor was hovering on the stairs. She was pretending to take out the trash, but in reality, she was eavesdropping.
“Are you with her?”
“No. I’m alone. I’ve been alone for a long time.”
“Then why the suitcase?”
“I’ll explain if you let me in.”
Irina removed the chain and opened the door. Andrey looked bad. He was gaunt and aged. He had gone completely gray, and his suit hung on him like a sack.
“Come in,” she said. “But not for long.”
He held out the roses.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the bouquet. “Go to the kitchen.”
“How are you…” Andrey began, looking around the hallway. “Did you renovate?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful. Very beautiful.”
Irina put the roses in a vase. Her hands were hardly shaking anymore. Strange. She had thought that if she ever saw him again, she would lose her mind. But here she was, almost calm.
“Sit down,” she nodded toward a chair.
“May I have some tea?”
“You may.”
As she brewed the tea, she thought: What kind of circus is this? Why is he here? A suitcase, flowers… Does he want to come back or something? Let him just try!
“Ir, I’ve wanted to come for a long time.”
“Was something stopping you?”
“I was ashamed.”
She placed a cup in front of him and sat across from him.
“Well, tell me. What’s the surprise?”
Andrey wrapped his hands around the cup. He was silent. Irina waited. In the past, she would have started getting nervous, talking too fast about something. Now she simply sat there.
“I got sick,” he finally said.
“Seriously?”
“Not fatally. But… the doctors say I need to change my lifestyle. Less stress.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I want to move back here. To our town.”
Irina almost choked on her tea.
“What?”
“Life in Moscow has become hard. The job is awful, the apartment is rented. I have no friends. She… that Katka… left me for someone else six months ago.”
There it was. Self-pity and whining. How had she endured this for twenty years?
“Andrey, if you think that I—”
“No, no!” he waved his hands. “I’m not asking you… I mean, I’m not asking for us to get back together. I understand it’s too late.”
“Then what?”
“I want to be nearby. Near Olya. She’s my daughter too.”
“Olya hasn’t forgiven you.”
“I know. But maybe with time…”
Irina stood up and went to the window. It was getting dark outside. The streetlights had come on. An ordinary winter Wednesday. And suddenly, there was her ex-husband with a suitcase.
“Where are you planning to live?”
“I’ll rent a room. Or stay in a hotel for now.”
“And what will you do for work?”
“I’ll find something. I’m an engineer.”
She turned around. He was looking at her with hope. She felt sorry for him. Not for long, but she did.
“And you came all this way just to tell me your plans?”
“Not only that. There’s something else…”
The phone rang. It was Olya.
“Hello?”
“Mom, how are you? What are you doing?”
Irina glanced at Andrey. He froze with the cup in his hands.
“Drinking tea.”
“What are you going to make for dinner?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Maybe I’ll come over? We can make herring under a fur coat?”
“Olya, I’ll call you back later, all right?”
“What happened? Your voice sounds strange.”
“Everything is fine. Really.”
“Mom…”
“We’ll talk later.”
She hung up. Andrey put the cup on the table.
“You didn’t tell her?”
“What am I supposed to tell her? First explain properly why you came.”
“I already explained.”
“Badly.”
He took an envelope from his pocket and placed it in front of her.
“Here. The surprise.”
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Irina took the envelope. Inside were some documents. Official papers with stamps.
“The dacha,” Andrey said quietly. “I transferred it to you.”
“What?”
“Our dacha. It’s yours now.”
She read the documents. She didn’t understand everything, but she saw her name. And Andrey’s signature.
“Why?”
“I should have done it a long time ago. You worked so much there. The garden beds, the greenhouse… and I just lay on the couch.”
Silence. Irina reread the papers.
“There will be money too,” Andrey added. “For my share of that Moscow apartment. Once I sell it, I’ll transfer it to you.”
“I don’t need your money.”
“You do. It will be useful for Olya’s wedding.”
“Olya doesn’t even have a fiancé yet.”
“She will.”
Irina put the documents back into the envelope. Her head was spinning. The dacha… She really had loved that dacha. She had spent so many years working there. But after the divorce, she never went back. It had hurt too much.
“Do you think you can buy me with gifts?”
“No. I just want to do the right thing.”
“The right thing would have been not leaving for the neighbor’s fool.”
“I know.”
“The right thing would have been not yelling at me every day.”
“I know, Ir.”
She looked at him carefully. He really had aged. And his eyes were different. Before, they had always been angry or indifferent. Now… tired.
“Where are you planning to sleep tonight?”
“I’ll find somewhere.”
“Hotels here are expensive.”
“I’ll spend the night at the station.”
“It’s cold at the station.”
Andrey shrugged.
“Stay,” she said, unexpectedly even to herself. “On the couch. One night.”
“Thank you.”
“But tomorrow you leave.”
“Agreed.”
She got up to get bedding and thought: What am I doing? Have I completely lost my mind?
While Irina made up the couch, Andrey sat in the kitchen. Quietly. Before, he had always made noise everywhere—turning on the television, playing music, shouting on the phone. Now he was silent.
“Is the pillow all right?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
It felt awkward. A stranger in her home. And yet they had lived together for twenty years.
The phone rang again. Olya.
“Mom, what’s going on? Why didn’t you call me back?”
Irina glanced at Andrey. He pretended not to listen.
“Olya, you won’t believe this… Your father came.”
“What?! What father?”
“Your father. Andrey.”
A pause. A long pause.
“Mom, are you all right?”
“I’m all right.”
“What does he want?”
“He says he’s planning to move back here. And he gave me the dacha.”
“The dacha? Our dacha?”
“He showed me the documents.”
“Mom, this is some kind of scam. Don’t believe him.”
“Olya…”
“I’m coming over right now!”
“No, don’t.”
“I’m coming! He’ll mess with your head again!”
“Olya, I’m not the same person anymore. He won’t.”
“That’s what everyone says, and then…”
“He’s sick. Tired. He wants to apologize.”
“Apologize?! After three years?!”
Irina covered the phone with her hand.
“Andrey, talk to your daughter.”
He shook his head.
“I won’t. She hates me.”
“Olya, he doesn’t want to talk.”
“Of course he doesn’t! He’s a coward!”
“You’ll come tomorrow, and you’ll talk calmly.”
“Mom, kick him out. Right now.”
“He’ll stay one night. On the couch.”
“Have you completely…”
“Olya, everything will be fine. Really.”
“If anything happens, call me right away. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“All right.”
She hung up. Andrey looked at her guiltily.
“She’s right,” he said. “I’m a coward.”
“It’s a little late to think about that.”
“Back then, I just… got scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of old age. I thought it would be easier with a young woman. That I’d become young again.”
Irina poured herself some tea and sat across from him.
“And? Did you become young?”
“No. I became even older. And more foolish.”
“Was she beautiful?”
“She was beautiful. But empty. Nothing in her head except clothes and TV shows.”
“And I was smart, yes?”
“Smart. And kind. And patient.”
“Too patient.”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence. Outside, the wind howled. February, the most unpleasant month.
“Do you know what I’m doing now?” Irina asked.
“What?”
“I’m taking courses. Learning English.”
“Why?”
“I want to travel abroad. To Italy or France.”
“Alone?”
“With Svetka. She’s learning English too.”
Andrey nodded. He nodded in surprise.
“And I also joined a theater studio.”
“You want to become an actress?”
“For myself. It’s simply interesting.”
“You always wanted to…”
“Yes, I did. And you said it was nonsense.”
“I was a fool.”
“You were.”
She stood up and gathered the dishes. As she washed the plates, she thought: How strange. She wasn’t angry with him. She felt a little sorry for him, but no more than that. Before, just hearing his name had made her shake.
“Ir, may I ask you something?”
“Ask.”
“Do you… have someone?”
“What do you mean?”
“A man.”
She turned around. He was looking at her with hope.
“And what if I do?”
“Then… I understand.”
“I don’t have anyone. And I’m not looking.”
“Why?”
“What for? I’m fine on my own.”
“Being alone is boring.”
“It isn’t boring. I have friends, Olya, work. I read books, watch films. I go to the theater.”
“It’s still boring without a man.”
Irina dried her hands with a towel.
“Andrey, do you know what the difference is between us?”
“What?”
“You can’t live without a woman. But I can live without a man.”
“You learned how?”
“I learned.”
He lowered his head.
“So there’s no chance at all?”
“None.”
“Even if I change?”
“You won’t change now. It’s too late.”
“Can we be friends?”
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”
She went to the bedroom. At the doorway, she turned back.
“I turn off the light at ten. Keep the television quiet.”
“All right.”
“And don’t you dare snore.”
“I’ll try.”
She lay down in bed and listened to him moving around in the living room. He turned on the television and immediately lowered the volume. He had become polite.
But she couldn’t sleep. She thought about the dacha. It had been a good dacha. Apple trees, currant bushes. A huge greenhouse. Maybe she really should go there in the spring? See what it was like now.
In the morning, Irina woke up at seven. Andrey was already awake, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning. I made coffee. Do you want some?”
“I do.”
She drank coffee and looked at him. He looked gathered, composed. His suitcase stood by the door.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes. As we agreed.”
“And your plans? About moving?”
“I’ll put them off for now. I’ll think some more.”
Irina nodded. Good. It was too early for him to show up here.
The doorbell rang. Olya had rushed over. She ran into the hallway and stopped. She looked at her father in silence.
“Hi, Olya,” Andrey said quietly.
“Hi.”
“How are you? How’s work?”
“Fine.”
Awkward. Irina poured her daughter coffee.
“Sit down. Talk calmly.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” Olya muttered.
“We do,” Andrey objected. “I wanted to apologize.”
“It’s too late to apologize.”
“I know. But I still want to. I behaved badly. Toward your mother. Toward you.”
Olya was silent. She stirred her coffee with a spoon.
“And I also wanted to say that I love you. I always loved you.”
“You had a strange way of showing it.”
“I showed it badly. I was a fool.”
“You were. And still are.”
Andrey sighed and stood up from the table.
“All right. I’ll go.”
“Wait,” Irina said. “Olya, look at the documents. For the dacha.”
She showed her the envelope. Olya scanned the papers.
“Is this real?”
“It’s real,” Andrey nodded. “The dacha is yours now. Your mother’s.”
“Why?”
“I should have done it a long time ago.”
Olya put the documents aside and looked closely at her father.
“Are you really sick?”
“Yes. My heart. Blood pressure.”
“Are you getting treatment?”
“I am.”
“And with that… what was her name… you broke up?”
“A long time ago. She left.”
“For another fool?”
“For another one.”
Olya smirked. For the first time that morning.
“Serves you right.”
“It does.”
She got up and went to the window. She stood there silently for a while.
“Dad,” she finally said.
“Yes?”
“If you hurt Mom again, I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t hurt her. I give you my word.”
“And if you come here to live, behave decently.”
“If I come?”
“Maybe you will. In a year or two. When we’ve all calmed down.”
Andrey nodded. His eyes began to shine.
“Thank you, Olechka.”
“Don’t thank me. And call sometimes. On holidays.”
“I will.”
He hugged his daughter awkwardly. She did not pull away.
“All right,” Irina said. “I’ll walk you out.”
On the landing, Andrey stopped.
“Ir, thank you. For letting me spend the night. For listening.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And for forgiving me.”
“I haven’t forgiven you yet. I just… let go.”
“What’s the difference?”
“To forgive means to forget the hurt. To let go means not to hold on to anger.”
He nodded.
“I understand.”
“Andrey, if you really decide to move back, warn us in advance. Don’t show up like this again.”
“All right.”
“And rent your own place. We won’t invite you to spend the night again.”
“I understand.”
They shook hands. He went down the stairs. Irina stood for a moment, listening to the sound of his footsteps. Then she returned home.
Olya was sitting in the kitchen, looking through the dacha documents.
“Mom, maybe we really should go there in the spring?”
“We will. We’ll see what it’s like.”
“I’ll help clean it up.”
“All right.”
They sat down to drink coffee. The sun was shining outside. February was ending, and spring would come soon.
“Mom, you’re not waiting for him, are you?”
“Who? Your father?”
“Yes.”
“No. I’m not waiting.”
“And if he comes back?”
“He won’t come back. And he shouldn’t come back. We have a different life now.”
Olya nodded.
“A different one. And a better one.”
“Much better.”
Irina picked up a photo from the table—a birthday gift from Svetka. The two of them were at their English course, laughing and hugging.
“You know, Olya, I realized one thing.”
“What?”
“Happiness isn’t about fixing old mistakes. Happiness is about not repeating them.”
“That’s right, Mom.”
“And that’s how we’ll live now. The right way.”
They finished their coffee. Cleared the table. The day was beginning well.