You want to ruin my meeting and sabotage the contract?! You… You’ve just been tormenting me lately! You do everything against me, just to spite me!” Pavel yelled at his wife, who could barely stand on her feet.
Lately, Pavel couldn’t be around his wife. He didn’t recognize her. Instead of the bright, cheerful Polina he had lived with for almost ten years, there was some other woman — pale, quiet, tired. She was crying more and more often without any reason. She would lose control more frequently when calming the children, yelling at them, and then apologizing, justifying herself: “I’m just tired, I’m sorry.”
At first, Pavel endured it. After all, who knows what was happening? But then he started distancing himself.
Tonight was very important to him. Dinner with potential partners — people he had been trying to arrange a meeting with for over a month. Polina knew how important this was to him. He even chose the dress for her — one she hadn’t worn in a long time. Dark blue, form-fitting. She had once looked stunning in it. But now, even in that dress, she looked lost.
They calmly drove to the restaurant. Pavel got out first, adjusted the collar of his shirt, and glanced back at his wife. But she was staring off into the distance.
“Polina, are you coming?!”, he said over his shoulder. “We’re already late.”
“Wait…” She stopped at the stairs, swayed, and grabbed the railing. “Sorry, I feel dizzy…”
He turned around. Her face had become even paler. She squinted as if in sharp pain. And then, he snapped.
“What is this?!”, Pavel barked. “Are you serious?! Now?! You decided to ruin everything?!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose…” she whispered, not looking up at her husband.
“Not on purpose?! This has been happening over and over! You’re always tired, not yourself, can’t, won’t… How much longer, Polina?! You’re sabotaging my life! And today — you’re even sabotaging my work! Do you understand how this looks?”
Polina looked at her husband, confused. He was furious. And she couldn’t say anything:
“I just don’t feel well…”
“Then go home. Just get out of my sight! I don’t need a circus during this meeting. Thanks for at least trying!”
He turned away and walked inside. He didn’t look back. And Polina remained standing at the bottom of the stairs.
The dinner went as planned. Pavel was polite with the future partners, joked moderately, set traps, and lured them with promises. The deal was in his hands.
Now, he stood before the door of his apartment, unable to press the doorbell. His phone was in his pocket, but he didn’t take it out. He just stood there, staring at the door.
He remembered that Polina had once been different… She had been the perfect wife, a wonderful mother. Now, Pavel couldn’t explain her transformations.
“What do I do now?” he whispered to himself.
His chest tightened. He wasn’t afraid to go in because he feared a scandal. Pavel knew that Polina would stay silent. He was afraid that she was truly unwell. That it was more serious than he was willing to admit.
Pavel was getting more and more confused in his feelings.
He tried not to be angry with Polina, to keep himself in check. But it was becoming harder. She had changed — and he saw it every day. Weak, tired, irritated. She was constantly apologizing, but he thought it would be easier if she didn’t act that way. And worst of all — he started to feel hatred toward his wife. Sometimes, he just wanted to leave, slam the door, and never come back.
He knew it wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be like this. Yet he couldn’t cope with it.
He decided to talk to his brother. His brother was always calmer, wiser. He could give advice. They met in the evening. Pavel was silent for a long time, then exhaled:
“I don’t know what’s happening with me. I can’t be around her anymore. Everything irritates me. Her voice, her appearance, the way she walks around the house, how she talks to the kids… It’s like I’m burning inside. Is this normal?”
His brother said nothing for a long time, just stared at him. And in that look, Pavel suddenly saw something strange. As if his brother knew something else.
“You’re judging me now, right?” Pavel asked sharply. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“No, no,” his brother shook his head. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
He was silent for a moment, then quietly said:
“Talk to Polina. Seriously. This isn’t my secret. I didn’t want to know this at all, it just happened.”
“What secret? Did she tell you something? And not me?”
“She didn’t tell me anything, Pasha. It just happened that I was a random witness, and I shouldn’t get involved. Sorry. Talk to her yourself. Just calmly. No accusations. Just talk.”
“At least give me a hint. Is it an illness?”
His brother stood up from the table, paused, then added:
“Just talk to your wife. And you’ll understand everything.”
For the first time in a long while, Pavel felt something else — not anger or exhaustion. Most likely, it was fear.
That evening, Pavel finally decided to talk to Polina.
They sat in the kitchen. The kids were asleep. The house was quiet. He nervously twirled his mug in his hands, then looked at her and spoke, trying to stay calm:
“I wanted to apologize. For that evening when we went to the restaurant. I was unfair. And rude. I’m ashamed.”
Polina nodded without lifting her eyes. She looked incredibly tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, her lips were dry, and her shoulders were slumped.
“I noticed something was wrong with you,” he continued. “You’ve become different. I didn’t understand. I got angry. I’m sorry. But now I want to understand what’s happening to you. Really. You can trust me.”
Polina slowly breathed in. She was silent. As if gathering her strength.
“I’ve felt bad for a long time,” she whispered. “At first, I just thought: I’m tired. It happens. Overworked, didn’t sleep well… But it got worse. Every action required incredible effort — getting up, going to work, making breakfast for the kids. Even just getting dressed felt like an achievement.”
She raised her eyes to him — there was incredible sorrow in them.
“I tried to ignore it. Convince myself that it would pass. Then I went to a psychologist. He tried to help me. But I think he didn’t understand what was happening with me either. He said it might be depression. I tried to change something. But nothing worked.”
Pavel listened, holding his breath. He didn’t interrupt. For the first time in a long while, he just listened.
“After the restaurant,” Polina continued, “I went to a therapist. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. Dizziness, weakness, sometimes I almost lose consciousness. I had tests done. And they told me that there’s suspicion of leukemia.”
An awful silence hung in the room. Pavel felt the blood drain from his face. Everything that had come before — irritation, resentment, exhaustion — disappeared in an instant. Only she remained. Her voice. Her eyes.
He sat closer. Reached out his hand. Touched her fingers. His wife’s hands were cold.
“Polya…” he whispered. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I didn’t want to believe it,” she replied. “I needed time… I was scared. I’m still scared. I was afraid it would make you angry. Or that you would disregard me… I don’t even know…”
“And how did my brother find out?”
“His new girlfriend works at that clinic… We ran into each other by accident…”
His breath caught. Suddenly, he understood clearly: everything he had feared — the everyday routine, the boredom, the “not the same” wife — was nothing compared to the real fear. The fear of losing her.
Everything inside him clenched. For the first time in a long while, he felt not anger, but real pain.
“I’m with you,” he said. “Until the end. Whatever this is. Just tell me what you need. And I’ll do it. I’m ready for anything.”
Polina looked at him. And for the first time in a long while, something alive flickered in her eyes.
From that day, everything changed.
Pavel felt as though he had awakened from a strange dream. He used to think that being together just meant living under one roof, sharing the household, bringing home a paycheck. But now he knew: being together meant holding her hand when it’s scary, when it’s hard, when there’s no strength left. And he began to fight for Polina.
“Tomorrow we’ll go to a good doctor, I’ve made an appointment for us at ten,” he said one morning, handing her breakfast. “He’s the one my friends recommended. He’s good.”
“Did you do everything yourself?” Polina looked at him with surprise.
“Of course. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. Everything will be fine! I’m here!”
He took her to appointments, to tests, to chemotherapy. He sat in the hallways, making her laugh while she lay under the IV. Sometimes, he just held her hand. Other times, he chatted about everything. He took care of the kids and asked his mother to help with the grandkids.
“Remember how we missed the train on our third day after the wedding?” he joked, adjusting the blanket on her shoulders.
“Yeah, and then you carried the suitcase for three kilometers.”
“Well, at least not you. Though you’re lighter than that suitcase.”
“Back then, yes,” she smiled faintly. “But now, I think I’ve put on a little weight.”
He frowned immediately and pressed her fingers to his lips.
“You’ve always had the perfect weight! And I love you, Polya. Very much.”
Every morning, he woke up a little earlier just to watch her. To watch how she slept. Her face, tired but painfully familiar. Only after this small ritual did he begin his day.
He gave her little surprises. Flowers for no reason, or a note under her pillow. Sometimes, he brought her a beautiful breakfast on a tray, as if they were in the most expensive hotel in the world! She barely ate anything, but always thanked him. Sincerely and with great love.
“You’re crazy, Pasha! We’re saving money!” she said when she saw the huge bouquet in the room.
“On anything, but not on you,” he joked.
They went through everything. Weakness, sleepless nights, tears. Breakdowns. Silence. The endless rejection of food and medicine. Sometimes, it seemed there was no hope left.
And now, they were sitting in the doctor’s office. The doctor said calmly:
“You’re in remission. These are good news.”
Pavel heard the words, but they seemed to pass through him. Because he was looking at Polina. And she — at him.
“Did you hear?” she whispered. “That means I’ll live!”
He nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. He just started kissing her hands.
“Yes, Polya. This is just the beginning for us! We made it.”
Pavel and Polina lived a happy life.
Many years later, in a very similar office, Polina tightly held Pavel’s hand.
He sat in a chair, leaning on the backrest, slightly hunched. The disease was slowly erasing faces, events, names from his memory. The world was becoming blurry. But he still recognized her face.
Polina sat next to him. She held his hand tightly. They had truly lived a long life together. With all its difficulties, joys, and turning points. Everything that once seemed like the end was only the beginning.
Now, the disease was taking away Pavel’s most precious gift — his memory. But even in this fragile state, he looked for Polina with his eyes, and when he found her, he was calm. He held on to her, to her voice, to her touch, to the last pieces of their shared memory.
He didn’t always know what day it was. Sometimes, he couldn’t immediately remember where he was. But when he looked at her — he recognized her.
“You’re here…” he whispered.
“I’m with you,” she replied. “Always.”