On the door, hanging from a makeshift hook, was his travel bag.
The same one he’d brought with him „on a business trip.”
In the entryway, instead of his wife’s shoes, he saw a pair of unfamiliar men’s shoes.
„Svetlana?” he called, his mouth dry.
From the kitchen, the sound of dishes and then soft footsteps came.
But it wasn’t his wife.
A tall man with gray hair and a confident smile appeared in the apartment hallway.
He was wearing Stepan’s bathrobe.
„Who are you?” Stepan asked, feeling the blood rush to his head.
„Boris,” the other replied calmly, extending his hand.
A friend of Svetlana’s.
Or perhaps something more than a friend, after this week.
Stepan waved his hand in the air, not reciprocating the greeting.
„Where is my wife?”
„In the shower,” Boris replied with the same irritating calm.
Go ahead, it’s your house after all.
Stepan entered his apartment like a stranger.
Everything looked the same, but he felt something essential had changed.
On the living room table were two half-empty wine glasses and half-burned candles.
Svetlana emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair wet.
When she saw Stepan, she showed no surprise.
„You’re finally here.”
And how was that „business trip”?
His tone was so serene that a shiver ran down Stepan’s spine.
„What’s this man doing in our house?” he exploded.
„Boris?”
An office colleague.
Very talented in many ways,” he said with an enigmatic smile.
He took care of me while you… were busy.
„Why is he wearing my bathrobe?” „Because hers is in the washing machine,” she replied simply.
If I’d known you’d be back today, I would have asked her to leave sooner.”
Boris shrugged and went back to the kitchen, leaving them alone.
„Are you crazy?” Stepan hissed.
You bring men to our house?”
Svetlana looked at him for a long time—with an expression he’d never seen before.
„Funny you should be the one to say that.”
Do we have different rules, Stepa?
You can spend a week at the beach with Larisa, but I’m not allowed to have company when you’re not here.”
Stepan felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
„What are you talking about?”
„Please, don’t act like that.”
I know everything about Larisa, the apartment you rented for her, her outings.
I’ve known for six months.
Maybe longer than you’ve known about Boris.
—And this is your revenge?
Sleeping with that guy?
Svetlana wrapped the towel around her body.
—It’s not revenge.
It’s… adaptation.
I realized our marriage ended a long time ago.