— “I almost got caught!” her husband was saying in a muffled voice. “Can you imagine—yesterday Olga saw me dropping Vasilisa off at the bus stop. I thought I’d go gray on the spot, but it all worked out. I managed to explain it away.”
Goosebumps ran over Olga’s skin. She had taken her husband’s car because hers was in the shop, and she needed to drive out of town to visit her parents. Out of habit, she turned on the most recent dashcam recording. She didn’t even know why she checked it every time, even when everything seemed fine.
She hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop on someone else’s conversation, but now Olga knew she wouldn’t sleep peacefully unless she found out what they were talking about. She decided to keep listening and figure out what had really happened if her husband had been scared and was talking about making excuses.
“—So what then? How did you explain yourself?” asked his friend, Gavriil.
“How do you think?” Ivan laughed. “The way men usually do: I said a colleague was in a hurry and asked me to give her a lift. What else could I come up with? I was so shocked I thought that was it for me—game over—but no! It worked!”
“She just believed you like that? Tanka would’ve pecked me to death—she’d have made me introduce her to the colleague and then put her through a full interrogation: which department she works in, whether she’s married, and all that. You know how it is.”
Olga’s hands balled into fists. Not only had her husband lied to her, he was bragging to his friend about what a good liar he was. Fooled the little dummy—happy to oblige. She wanted to rip the dashcam out by the roots, go home, and smack the cheater over the head. But Olga never acted so rashly. She had a sense of dignity and didn’t intend to stoop to screaming matches.
“No, our relationship is completely different. Olga trusts me more than she trusts herself. She hasn’t once looked into my phone in all our years together. I thought she’d start after we got married, but no. She believes me—every word I say.”
Gavriil let out a heavy, regretful sigh.
“You’re lucky, my friend. Tanka gets jealous of every lamppost. And you know that perfectly well. She even got jealous of your Olga once.”
“If I were flirting with other women in front of my wife, I’m sure Olga would’ve smacked me upside the head a long time ago. You don’t have any shame. You’ll start hitting on someone right in front of your Tanka.”
“That’s so she doesn’t get too relaxed. And anyway—better in front of her than behind her back and then feel guilty. I just like it when pretty girls smile, so I don’t mind tossing out a couple of compliments.”
They’re insane, Olga thought, nearly howling with rage. They cheated on their wives and then discussed it so calmly. And she truly did trust her husband. From the very beginning, Olya had decided she would never spy on her spouse. What for? If he’d chosen her and decided to tie his life to hers, then he knew what he was doing. He certainly understood what he was getting into when he proposed. Betraying one’s own choice was the last thing she’d do. Olga didn’t want to be jealous, so she took his communication with other women in stride. From time to time former classmates or female colleagues might message him. You can’t police every chat and start a scandal over it. Olga herself kept in touch with a childhood friend and male colleagues at work. And nothing ever happened. Ivan never forbade it. Mutual trust seemed to be the foundation of their relationship—but it turned out it only existed on one side. A wave of hurt crashed over her. She didn’t even realize when she paused the recording. He hadn’t even bothered to delete anything or cover his tracks. She was overflowing with hurt, but she didn’t want to throw a tantrum and act rashly. Maybe this wasn’t a mistress, maybe it was some ex, and he got scared and made up an excuse? Of course that didn’t justify him at all, but she wanted to hear more. Surely he would mention who that woman was to him.
But then the men switched the subject to the upcoming football championship, and the name “Vasilisa” never came up again.
There was no point asking her husband why he had lied—he would certainly come up with a new excuse and make her believe another lie. If he was cheating, she needed to confirm it herself and end the relationship without leaving any chance of continuing it.
Olga decided to drive to her parents’ and talk to her mother for advice. Maybe she knew how to keep an eye on Ivan without arousing suspicion and find out who that woman was. She definitely wasn’t a colleague. Hardly an old friend. Ivan had always introduced Olga to all his friends.
Once she calmed down and collected her thoughts, Olga set off along her planned route. She focused entirely on the road, trying not to get distracted by the negative thoughts that kept pushing in. If Ivan was cheating on her, she wasn’t going to forgive him. And she wasn’t going to stay in that kind of relationship either. She was pregnant—only in her second month—but she had to think first of the baby and her own peace of mind. It would be fine if she had to raise the child without a father. Someone who betrayed once would surely do it again.
Pulling up to the new fence Ivan had helped her father put in, Olga sat in the car for a while, powdering her face and putting in eye drops to get rid of the redness. She didn’t want to hint to her father that her husband might be unfaithful. She knew it would end in a “man-to-man” showdown. She didn’t want that. Even if Ivan had betrayed her, they would break up like normal people—no fights, no scenes.
In the yard, an elderly mutt named Tyapa greeted Olga. The dog wagged her tail happily, welcoming the guest, then sprawled out, offering her belly for a scratch.
“Well, look at this beauty! Just look at her. Such a little diva. Good girl—yes, yes, you’re a good girl,” Olga cooed, stroking the dog.
“We were wondering with your father why you weren’t coming inside, and here you are held up,” said Svetlana Olegovna, Olga’s mother, shaking her head. “Tyapa… always on the prowl for pets.”
“I missed her. And I missed you and Dad. I was here last week, but it feels like it’s been forever. How are you two?”
Her mother came closer and hugged her. She gently patted Olga’s belly, sending greetings to her future grandchild—grandson or granddaughter.
“I should be asking you. How did Vanya let you drive so far all by yourself? I wouldn’t let a pregnant woman behind the wheel at all. Anything could happen.”
Olga shook her head. Her mother loved to exaggerate and often panicked. What bad could happen? Everything was fine.
“I’m all right. I don’t even feel pregnant yet—as if it isn’t there. So don’t worry about me. Ivan sees I feel the same as usual, nothing’s changed. Why would he put restrictions on me?”
Her last words made Olga fall silent. She remembered the conversation on the dashcam and clenched her hands into fists again.
“What is it? You’ve gone pale, like you just saw a ghost!” Svetlana Olegovna grew worried.
“Something did happen, but I don’t yet know how bad it is. Mom, I really need your advice. How can I find out if my husband has another woman?”
Svetlana Olegovna paled too, gasped, and covered her mouth with her hands.
“Heavens! You really think Ivan would find someone else? That can’t be! I’ll never believe he’d take such a step. He’s so happy you’re expecting a baby. Why? Has something happened to make you think that?”
Olga lowered her head and was about to tell her about the conversation she’d heard when her father came outside. Svetlana Olegovna signaled that they would discuss it a little later, and Olga went to greet her father, sinking into his strong embrace.
“Don’t crush me, Dad—I’m not alone,” Olga grumbled.
“Dad won’t hurt his daughter or his granddaughter.”
“And why did you decide it’ll be a granddaughter?” Olga asked, surprised.
“I had a dream. Before you were born I knew it would be a girl, too. I wasn’t wrong. I won’t be wrong now. I already told Vanka he needs to take care of his princesses a lot more than himself. Otherwise—you know me—I’ll tan his hide.”
Olga felt a pang of sadness but still tried to smile. She decided that if her husband’s infidelity was confirmed, she would tell her father that she herself had fallen out of love and didn’t want any relationship anymore. That would be easier.
“Go on then, pick berries from the bushes and eat! You and the baby need more vitamins. Ah… What am I saying? Sit on the bench, and I’ll quickly pick you some strawberries and currants.”
Olga thanked her father and sat down. When the man went off to pick berries, Svetlana Olegovna sat beside her and told her to explain what had made her jump to such frightening conclusions.
“Well, a couple of days ago I saw a woman getting out of his car. A pretty one, with thick fiery hair. The way they were talking… too sweet, you know? And today I listened to a recording on his dashcam. He was talking to his friend Gavriil—you’ve met him. He said he lied to me and that this woman isn’t a colleague.”
“Then who is she, if not a colleague? They should’ve dropped at least a hint.”
Olga shook her head. That was just it—if she had heard who the woman was, she wouldn’t be looking for a way to follow her husband.
“What else did you hear about her? Only that she isn’t a colleague?”
Olga briefly recounted everything she’d heard. Svetlana Olegovna shook her head, thought for a moment, and then whispered a name:
“Vasilisa.”
“Uh-huh… That’s her. What should I do, Mom? How can I find out who she is?”
“Don’t you even think about infidelity. I know this Vasilisa. Your husband is dealing with her on business. As for what business exactly—don’t even ask me. I can’t tell you yet. I promised Ivan I’d keep it secret. All I can say is he’s preparing a surprise for you. Vasilisa is helping him.”
Some surprise! Preparing it with another woman and lying that she’s a colleague? No… Olga didn’t like that answer. Her imagination was running wild; she wanted to know everything right now. Since Svetlana Olegovna stubbornly refused to say, Olga deliberately mentioned Vasilisa’s name to her father and said she had met her the other day.
“Vanka, honestly! Couldn’t keep a needle in a sack. I told him he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and would blab quickly that he bought a house as a gift for when the baby’s born. The renovations aren’t even finished, and he’s already spilled the beans.”
“You blockhead!” scolded Svetlana Olegovna.
“A house?” Olga repeated, astonished.
“You didn’t know? He bought a house. Wait—you mentioned Vasilisa, the redhead realtor, right? Or did I mix everything up and give away the secret?”
While Svetlana Olegovna scolded him, Olga beamed with happiness. Not only had her husband not cheated—he’d bought her such a gift. And she hadn’t suspected a thing. He had said they would definitely buy a house after the baby was born, but how had he managed it so quickly? Where had he gotten the missing amount? He must have arranged something with his parents and they helped… Her head was spinning. She wanted to hurry home, hug her husband, and apologize for the ugly thoughts that had crept into her mind.
The next day she did exactly that. Ivan was shocked that his wife had even allowed the thought that he might cheat, a little upset that the surprise hadn’t worked out, but immediately cheered up—everything had been resolved quickly and without casualties.
“If you were like Gavryukhin’s Tanka, you would’ve walloped me with a frying pan before letting me say a word,” Ivan laughed.
On the weekend he took his wife to see their new house. Olga was over the moon. She couldn’t hold back tears of joy and promised her husband she would help with the renovations, and that together they’d set up a cozy nest for themselves and their future child. She also gave her word that from now on she would figure out the situation first and only then get upset—and of course, she wouldn’t stop trusting her husband.
You shouldn’t always trust your own ears; from time to time they can deceive you—and a vivid imagination can lead you who knows where.