You’ll come running to me in a week begging me to come back.” “Don’t flatter yourself!”
Larisa smirked, once again amazed by her husband’s overconfidence.
Since his youth, Vadim Gordeev had been distinguished by his excessive self-love, often overestimating his abilities. Perhaps that’s why Larisa had chosen him as a husband; she likely wouldn’t have considered a less confident man a worthy option.
Now, Vadim’s arrogance irritated Larisa. Just over an hour ago, she had returned home and witnessed a scene that erased the remaining warmth and tenderness she had felt for her husband, on which their marriage had recently been hanging by a thread.
The story was clichéd and vulgar. Larisa, like in a bad joke, came home from a business trip earlier than planned. She decided to surprise her husband, unaware of the “gift” Vadim had prepared for her.
In their cozy nest, a young unfamiliar woman was discovered, who swiftly ran away wrapped in a sheet to Larisa’s applause when she arrived. The wife, who arrived so inopportunely, found nothing better than to applaud her brazen and cynical husband, who had managed to bring another woman into their marital bed.
“Lara?” Vadim’s eyes widened, “Why didn’t you warn me you’d be back today? You said you were coming on Friday!”
Larisa laughed, tears in her eyes—though it was unclear whether from laughter or the realization of the collapse of their Gordian family life.
“Do I have to report to you?” Larisa approached her husband and extended her hand.
Vadim, groaning and continuing to curse, hurriedly began gathering the tangerine peels scattered all over the bed.
Larisa surveyed the room and saw the candles still burning on the coffee table, two glasses, and a fruit vase. The romantic setting was disrupted by the wife’s return from a business trip.
The young brunette, whose name Larisa never got to learn, had already fled the apartment, hastily putting on her coat and buttoning up her autumn boots. Larisa had noticed them at the entrance of the apartment.
Well, it was time to acknowledge the inevitable: her husband had enjoyed leisure time with another woman, and he did so brazenly and confidently, right at home, without bothering to book a hotel room. Vadim scowled and ran to the living room, where he sat on the sofa waiting for the verdict of his deceived wife.
“We’re getting a divorce,” Larisa said calmly. She was surprised at the calm reigning within her as if everything that happened was just a snippet from a silly soap opera, not part of her life.
“Why divorce?” asked Vadim. “Things happen, I admit my mistake. Why be so drastic?”
Larisa sat on the sofa away from her husband and looked carefully at his cunning face:
“This isn’t the first time, Vadik. And it won’t be the last. I don’t want to wear horns; they don’t suit me.”
Vadim shrugged:
“Fine, have it your way. I’m not going to beg you, nor will I crawl at your feet. We’ve been married for seven years, and that’s enough. Luckily, we don’t have kids.”
Larisa suddenly laughed:
“That’s where you’re wrong. There’s a little problem, darling. Just a day before returning from the business trip, I took a pregnancy test. I’m expecting a child! I wanted to surprise you, but you beat me to it.”
Vadim’s face elongated. He stared at Larisa, unblinking, his face reflecting annoyance, some kind of joy, and utter bewilderment.
“That won’t change my decision,” Larisa warned her husband right away, “I’m filing for divorce.”
That same evening, Vadim, having packed his belongings in two travel bags, left the apartment they had lived in for the last two years. This was the home Larisa had furnished herself: finally, she and Vadik could afford a spacious three-bedroom apartment without any mortgages or debts to relatives. In this apartment, Larisa hoped to live out the rest of her life with Gordeev, only she hadn’t imagined how this marital saga would end.
“You won’t be able to live without him,” Larisa’s friend assured her, “you’ve been living side by side with him since you were twenty, officially husband and wife for seven years! How can you imagine life without your Gordeev?”
“Long and happily,” Larisa replied confidently in her words.
In the first two weeks, she indeed felt happy. She had no regrets about her decision, calmly filed for divorce, and Vadim was not against parting officially. Naturally, he left the apartment to his pregnant wife, not claiming any rights to the property, returning to his mother’s place.
Larisa tried not to learn about how and with whom her former husband was living. She did this not because she was indifferent, but because Larisa was afraid to find out that Vadim could be happily living with his young, buxom brunette.
Everywhere, Larisa was surrounded by happy couples. In parks, stores, city streets, hospitals—everywhere Larisa saw kissing, hugging, and otherwise romantically engaging young and not-so-young people. And still, Larisa missed Vadim, the very one who had brazenly cheated on her and didn’t even apologize for his actions.
What was even stranger was that despite her delicate condition, Larisa continued to attract the attention of other men. At work, men (single and not) who learned about Larisa Gordeeva’s divorce immediately began showering her with attention: flowers, candies, compliments.
“Annoying!” Larisa repeated, placing another bouquet in a vase and regretfully throwing out dried flowers into the trash bin.
Returning home one evening, Larisa encountered her new neighbor in the elevator. She didn’t know his name, had seen the attractive man only three times at most, and the only thing she knew about him was that he lived a floor above.
“Let me help you,” he offered, indicating the two heavy bags in Larisa’s hands, “It’s awkward to watch a frail woman carry such weights.”
Larisa didn’t refuse: her head and back ached, and she desperately wanted to eat the processed cheese lying at the bottom of the bag.
“Thank you,” near her door, Larisa looked meaningfully at the neighbor and reached for the bags.
“Let me bring the bags inside,” he insisted.
“Sorry, but I don’t let unfamiliar men into my home,” she responded and tried to take the bags from his hands, but it wasn’t that easy.
“My name is Igor,” he said, indicating that he wasn’t that much of a stranger.
Larisa relented. She let Igor into the apartment, tiredly sat on a kitchen chair, and allowed the man to unpack the groceries.
“Have you been living alone recently?” Igor asked, and Larisa nearly fell off the chair, surprised by such a blunt question.
“What makes you think I live alone?” she scoffed.
Igor laughed and handed Larisa the processed cheese:
“I’m very observant. I used to see you with a man, probably your husband, but he hasn’t been around for several weeks. There’s no ring on your finger, and there’s only one car in the yard, not two. Am I right?”
Larisa, mouth agape, took the cheese from Igor’s hand.
“Are you a detective?”
Igor smiled:
“No. I’m observant, I told you.”
“And how long have you been watching me?”
“Relatively recently. How about dinner? At a restaurant of your choice?”
Larisa laughed. This Igor reminded her of Vadim—just as confident and audacious. Well, let him satisfy his vanity until she shocks him with the news of her pregnancy. Her term was approaching twenty-two weeks, and with a cleverly chosen outfit, she could still hide her protruding belly for quite some time.
Larisa didn’t refuse the restaurant outing: she wanted to “wash” the neighbor and prove to him that she was also no pushover. They agreed on Friday, and precisely at seven in the evening, her doorbell rang.
“You’re extremely punctual,” Larisa stepped out of her apartment, closing the door behind her, “just a cluster of virtues!”
“I don’t like to make women wait, I consider it a sign of bad manners.”
Larisa shrugged. Igor seemed odd to her, too good to be true. Larisa didn’t plan anything serious, understanding that in her condition, she could at most just eat and have fun.
Igor turned out to be a very interesting conversationalist. He joked appropriately, talked about his life without embellishment, and was very attentive to Larisa. She even regretted deciding to play a joke on him and hide the truth about her delicate condition.
“I’ve been divorced for six months,” Igor somehow informed Larisa, “but I’m not chasing relationships. Simple communication with a woman I like is enough for me.”
A waiter approached them:
“May I offer you our signature dish? And we have a wonderful drink to go with it.”
“Don’t bother,” Igor interrupted the young man, “I’m driving, and the lady shouldn’t drink.”
Larisa’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. Igor smirked and gestured for the waiter to leave.
“Don’t look at me like that, Larisa!” Igor puffed up his lips. “And let’s switch to informal ‘you’.”
“Agreed,” she replied briefly, “but… how did you guess?”
“I told you, I’m very observant. And you’re very beautiful!”
Larisa blushed, feeling her cheeks grow warm. She spent the rest of the evening in a strange state: it was both pleasant and odd, and very good. It had been a long time since she had gone on dates, and the last time she was in a restaurant with Vadim was about three years ago.
On the way home, Larisa dozed off. She woke up to her coat pocket phone insistently vibrating. It was her former mother-in-law:
“Vadik was taken by an ambulance. He’s in the hospital. Lara, come over!”
Larisa’s heart jumped and sank. The thought of something irreparable happening to Vadim made her uneasy.
“Can you drive me to the city hospital?” she asked uncertainly. “If it’s inconvenient, I’ll take a taxi.”
“Of course, I’ll drive you,” Igor responded, turning on the indicator, “what happened?”
“Something happened to my husband,” she blurted out, then corrected herself, “to my ex-husband.”
Igor didn’t ask any further questions. He drove Larisa to the hospital, and without saying goodbye, she rushed into the reception area.
The mother-in-law met her on the first floor, and together they went upstairs. Larisa froze, seeing on a hospital bench the familiar girl. The very brunette who had indulged in passion in her marital bed with Larisa’s ex-husband.
“Was she with him?” Larisa asked unnecessarily.
The mother-in-law nodded and looked down. Two hours later, a doctor came out into the hospital corridor.
“Vadim Sergeyevich has regained consciousness,” he said, “one person may visit him.”
Three women stood up at once, but the doctor gestured with his hand:
“Only one person. Vadim Sergeyevich asked for Alina. Which of you is Alina?”
Larisa felt sick. The feeling of her own stupidity and naivety overwhelmed the desire to stay in the hospital and learn more about her ex-husband’s condition. Let the child she was expecting be Vadim’s; she was no longer needed by him, unlike the young and lively Alina.
Stepping onto the porch, Larisa unexpectedly sobbed. She was ashamed of her impulse to come to the hospital, regretting it a hundred times. She should have called a taxi, and then the rain started—cold and nasty, just like the feelings inside Larisa.
Unexpectedly, a car stopped beside her. It was Igor!
“Get in, or you’ll get soaked,” he shouted to Larisa, trying to shout over the pouring rain.
Larisa slipped into the car, where it was warm, dry, and so cozy. The man looking at her no longer seemed like the overconfident alpha male Larisa initially thought he was.
“Did you wait for me for over two hours?” she asked in astonishment.
“Of course, I couldn’t just leave a pregnant woman in the middle of the night without a car and the ability to get home safely.”
Larisa smiled:
“Then let’s go home. I want tea and processed cheese. Do you have any? Or shall we go have tea at my place?”
Igor laughed and touched Larisa’s hand:
“I have two types of cheese! You know why? Because I’m observant!