Andrew, have you seen my blue scarf? The one you gave me last New Year’s?” Marina diligently sorted through the closet, pretending to be very concerned about her search.
“Look on the top shelf, behind the boxes,” Andrew responded from the kitchen. “You put it there after the last… business trip.”
Marina froze. There was a strange intonation in her husband’s voice. Or was it her imagination? Over fifteen years of marriage, they had learned to catch the slightest nuances in each other’s voices. But they had also learned to pretend not to notice anything.
“I found it!” she exclaimed a minute later. “Indeed, behind the boxes. You have an amazing memory for such things.”
“Professional habit,” Andrew smirked, entering the room with two cups of coffee. “A long-haul truck driver can’t afford not to remember all the routes, all the turns, all the stops…”
“And all the excuses,” Marina thought to herself, but aloud she said something entirely different:
“Imagine, they’re sending me on a business trip to Petrozavodsk. Right before New Year’s! The management insists on personal presence, they say the annual report needs to be closed before the holidays.”
She diligently packed her suitcase, avoiding looking her husband in the eyes. In reality, there was no annual report. There was Igor—a regional manager from Nizhny Novgorod, whom she had met three years ago at a corporate event. Since then, they met every few months under the guise of business trips.
“What a coincidence!” Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, handing his wife a cup of coffee. “And I need to go to Kazan. Urgent cargo, the client requires delivery by the twenty-ninth.”
Marina barely smiled. She knew there was no urgent cargo. There was a phone, forgotten by her husband in the kitchen three months ago. There were messages from a certain Nastya, a dispatcher from Kazan. There were photos that Marina had managed to scroll through before putting the phone back in place. Since then, she knew exactly where her husband really went when he chose routes through Kazan.
“How long do you plan to be on your business trip?” Andrew asked casually.
“I think I’ll be back by the twenty-ninth,” replied Marina. “Need to get everything ready for the holiday. And you?”
“I’ll try to manage by the twenty-ninth as well.”
They looked at each other and smiled. Each knew the other was lying. Marina had booked a room in the Zarechye hotel until the thirtieth, and Andrew planned to spend a few days with Nastya at her country house.
That evening, they sat in the kitchen, drank tea, and discussed plans for the New Year. The conversation flowed easily and relaxedly—over the years of their marriage, they had learned to maintain the appearance of a perfect family.
“Maybe we should invite your parents for the holidays?” Marina suggested.
“They’re going to my sister’s in Sochi,” Andrew shook his head. “And yours?”
“My brother had a baby; they’re going to him in Petersburg.”
Both felt relieved—no need to invent additional excuses for the relatives…
In the compartment of the express train, it was warm and cozy. Marina settled by the window, took out a book and a blanket. There were ten minutes until departure. Outside, figures of hurrying passengers flashed by, snippets of conversations and announcements from the dispatcher could be heard.
“Excuse me, is this your bag?” a female voice echoed from the corridor. “It seems to have been left at the entrance to the wagon.”
“No, mine is with me,” replied a male voice that seemed vaguely familiar to Marina. “Let me help you find your compartment.”
Marina froze. That voice… It couldn’t be! She slowly lifted her eyes from the book just as the compartment door opened.
On the threshold stood Andrew. Next to him—a young woman in an elegant beige coat. Marina recognized her immediately as Nastya from the photos on her husband’s phone. In reality, she was even more beautiful—tall, slim, with wavy red hair and expressive green eyes.
For a few seconds, all three of them silently stared at each other. Time seemed to stop, stretching this moment into eternity.
“What a meeting!” Marina was the first to break the silence, trying to speak calmly, although her heart was ready to jump out of her chest. “Weren’t you supposed to go to Kazan?”
“I…,” Andrew shifted his gaze from his wife to Nastya and back, his face reflecting a whole gamut of emotions—surprise, fear, bewilderment, shame.
“The route changed at the last moment,” he finally managed.
“And I thought you had to drive the truck,” Marina smiled with her lips only. “Urgent cargo, you said?”
At that moment, a tall man in an expensive dark blue coat peeked into the compartment.
“Sorry for being late,” he said. “Marishka, I was delayed at a meeting…”
Now it was Andrew’s turn to raise his eyebrows in surprise. He immediately understood who this man was.
“Igor,” the newcomer introduced himself, glancing at the strange company. “And this is…”
“This is my husband, Andrew,” Marina said calmly. “And his… colleague?”
“Nastya,” the redhead quietly introduced herself.
At that moment, the conductor peeked into the compartment:
“Your tickets, please. There seems to be some confusion with the seats.”
All four simultaneously extended their tickets. The conductor carefully examined them and shook her head in confusion:
“Strange, but all of you have tickets for the same seats. This sometimes happens before the holidays, the reservation system glitches. We’ll have to reseat you in different compartments.”
“No need,” Marina suddenly said firmly. “Let’s all stay here and talk. I think we have things to discuss. No one objects, right?”
She looked at her husband. Something akin to relief flashed in his eyes.
“Indeed,” he supported. “Since fate brought us all in one compartment…”
Igor and Nastya exchanged glances. Doubt was written on their faces, but they did not dare to object.
The conductor shrugged and left. The train slowly started moving. Four people, tied together by invisible threads of lies and secret meetings, were left alone in the confined space of the compartment.
“So,” Marina leaned back in her seat. “We have four hours ahead. Maybe it’s time to talk honestly?”
The first minutes in the compartment were filled with oppressive silence. The clatter of wheels counted the seconds of awkward silence. Igor took out his phone and pretended to read his emails. Nastya nervously fiddled with a pendant on her neck. Andrew looked out the window at the passing winter landscapes. Marina flipped through the pages of her book, not really reading.
“How long?” she suddenly raised her eyes and asked, looking at Nastya.
“Four years,” the latter quietly replied. “We met when his truck broke down near Kazan.”
“And you?” Andrew looked at Igor.
“Three years ago, at a corporate event in the city.”
“Interesting,” Marina smirked. “Turns out, we both started looking for something on the side at about the same time.”
“What were you looking for?” Igor unexpectedly asked. “You seem to live normally…”
“Normally,” nodded Andrew. “Exactly that—normally. Too normally. Like a schedule. Get up, have breakfast, go to work, come back, have dinner, go to bed. Day after day, year after year.”
“I lacked emotions,” Marina admitted. “Once, Andrew and I could talk for hours. Then our conversations dwindled to discussing bills and weekend plans.”
“And I lacked understanding,” added Andrew. “Marina never asked how the road went, wasn’t worried if I was delayed…”
“Because I knew where you really were,” Marina interrupted him. “I saw messages from Nastya on your phone three months ago.”
“And I found a receipt from the Zarechye hotel in your bag,” Andrew countered. “And photos with Igor on your phone.”
“And all this time you kept silent?” Nastya asked in surprise.
“What’s there to say?” shrugged Marina. “Dear, I know you’re cheating on me, but it’s okay, I’m not sinless either?”
“It was easier to pretend nothing was happening,” added Andrew. “We were quite well-set. Each had their own life, their little joys…”
“Little joys,” Marina echoed. “And the big ones? Remember, we dreamed of buying a house in the countryside? Getting a dog? Traveling together?”
“I remember,” Andrew replied quietly. “Every time I pass by cottage settlements, I think about it.”
“And every time I see ads for house sales, I imagine how we could have lived there.”
Igor and Nastya glanced at each other. They suddenly felt superfluous in this conversation.
“You know,” Nastya slowly spoke, “Andrei and I never talked about the future. Only about the present.”
“And Marina and I didn’t either,” added Igor. “Probably because deep down, we understood: these relationships had no future.”
“Do we have one?” Marina suddenly asked her husband. “A future, I mean?”
Andrew was silent for a long time, looking out the window. Then he turned to his wife:
“Remember how we met? You missed the last electric train, and I offered to drive you on my old ‘nine’.”
“I remember,” Marina smiled. “It even stalled halfway, and we sat on the roadside for three hours, talking about everything under the sun.”
“Exactly. We could talk about everything. And then… we just unlearned how.”
“Maybe it’s not too late to learn again?” Marina asked quietly.
At that moment, the train began to slow down. The first lights of Nizhny Novgorod appeared outside the window.
“I’ll go,” said Igor, standing up. “Marina, I’m sorry, but I think it’s better if you don’t come anymore.”
“And you forgive me, Andrei,” added Nastya. “Perhaps we all need to stop before we go too far.”
On the platform, Marina and Andrew stood silently for a long time, watching Igor and Nastya leave. Passengers hurried by, porters clanged with suitcases, announcements sounded.
“Shall we go home?” Andrew finally asked.
“What about your cargo in Kazan?”
“There is no cargo. Just like your annual report.”
“I know,” Marina took her husband’s hand. “You know, I saw a great house for sale in the Istrinsky district. Two-story, with a plot. And you can keep a dog there…”
“A big one?” Andrew smiled.
“Very. And there’s a garage there for your truck.”
They bought tickets for the next train to the city. On the way, they talked—a lot, sincerely, like in the first years of acquaintance. About the stupid things they had done. About how they were afraid to lose what was left. About how they actually missed each other all these years.
Six months later, they really bought that house in the Istrinsky district. They got a German Shepherd. They started spending more time together. Marina sometimes met Andrew from trips with a homemade dinner, and he learned to ask how her day went.
They realized that over fifteen years, they had become something more to each other than just spouses—they had become a family. They became close people who could forgive, understand, and start anew. And that turned out to be more important than any fleeting passions.
And that strange and seemingly absurd meeting on the train became their family story, which they sometimes recalled while sitting on the veranda of their new house. A story about how a coincidence helped them find each other anew and understand that the most important thing they had already found long ago. They just needed to learn to appreciate it.