“You’re home early today,” Olga said from the window. She didn’t turn when her husband walked in.
“Yeah. The meeting was canceled,” Andrey answered, setting his keys down.
“And the business trip?” There was a strange note in her voice.
“To Novosibirsk.”
“Oh… that one.” He hesitated. “Canceled. Department reorganization.”
Olga slowly turned away from the glass.
“You can stop lying about the trip. I saw you at the movies yesterday with a blonde.”
Silence.
“Oh. That.” Andrey put the bottle on the table. “That was Marina — the new boss’s daughter. I was helping her choose a gift for his anniversary.”
“At a cinema?”
“We stopped by to check showtimes. Her father loves the classics…”
Olga said nothing. The evening went on as usual, but something had shifted.
“Is that a new cologne?” she asked as they were getting ready for bed.
“Yeah. I decided to change it up.”
The next day, Olga — she worked in HR — searched the company database.
Marina Sergeyevna Kotova, 28, lead design engineer. Daughter of the new department head. The same blonde.
That evening Olga asked about her.
“A capable specialist, by the way,” Andrey said, scrolling on his phone. “Do you know what project she’s leading right now?”
“What project?”
“Sorry, I can’t say. Trade secret.”
“And how often do you work on it together?”
“Olya.” Andrey set his phone aside. “Let’s be honest. What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“No, it’s not nothing. Since that night you haven’t been yourself.”
“And you changed before that,” Olga blurted. “New cologne, crisp shirts, staying late.”
“So that’s what this is.” Andrey stood. “You’ve decided that I…?”
“I don’t know what to think. When a husband says he’s leaving on a business trip and instead goes to the movies with another woman.”
“I explained it.”
Just then Andrey’s phone rang in the hallway. He stepped out. Olga caught fragments through the door:
“Yes, Marina Sergeyevna… Of course, we’ll look at it tomorrow…”
When he came back, Olga was rinsing the last plates.
“Sorry. Urgent work call.”
“At nine at night?”
“Olya, we’re at a crucial stage right now.”
“With the project… or with Marina Sergeyevna?”
“You know what,” Andrey said, turning toward the door, “when you’re ready to talk like an adult — without hints and jabs — tell me. Until then, I’m going to work in my office.”
The next day Olga deliberately walked past the technical department.
Andrey and Marina were bent over drawings. Everything looked strictly professional.
A woman from accounting, Vera, confirmed what people were saying: the two of them were preparing some “revolutionary” confidential project and had been staying late constantly.
Still, Olga’s doubt only grew. She kept replaying her youth in her mind and comparing herself to Marina.
The following morning an invitation arrived: a corporate celebration — Sergey Pavlovich Kotov’s anniversary.
In the corridor, Olga ran into the birthday man himself.
“Oh, Olga Aleksandrovna.” He smiled warmly. “You’ll come to the celebration, won’t you? With Andrey? You know, your husband is an incredible specialist. I’m very glad he agreed to help us.”
“Help you?”
“Of course — with the project. Marina and I have wanted to bring it to life since Moscow, but without Andrey we couldn’t make it work. There’ll be a big presentation at the anniversary.”
In the days leading up to the party, Andrey was hardly home at all.
The day of the anniversary. The Panorama restaurant.
Olga sat alone at a table. Andrey still hadn’t shown up.
“And now,” the host announced, “we have a special surprise from the technical department!”
The lights went out. Marina stepped up to the screen with a microphone.
“Dear Sergey Pavlovich. When you and I began this project in Moscow, many people said it was impossible…”
At that moment the front door opened, and Andrey walked in.
He was in a new suit. In his hands he carried a small metal object.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying toward the screen. “The final adjustments took longer than we expected.”
Sergey Pavlovich leaned forward.
“Did it work? Did you actually do it?”
“Yes.” Andrey set the object on a small table. “Marina — start the presentation.”
A detailed image of a complex mechanism appeared on the screen. Then Andrey pressed a button.
The device hummed, and above it a three-dimensional hologram bloomed into the air.
The room erupted in astonished exclamations.
“Incredible! You really did it!” Sergey Pavlovich cried.
“Without Andrey, it wouldn’t have happened,” Marina said with a smile. “He’s the one who solved the focusing problem we’d been fighting with in Moscow for half a year.”
Olga stared at her husband.
He stood beside the prototype, eyes bright with excitement — the kind she hadn’t seen in him for a long time.
And suddenly it all made sense. The calls. The movie theater. The late nights.
A lump rose in her throat — not from anger now, but from shame.
“Sweetheart,” Andrey said, appearing at her side. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. We signed a nondisclosure agreement. We weren’t allowed to mention it — even to family.”
“I’m the one who should apologize,” Olga whispered. “For my suspicions…”
“No.” He took her hand. “This is on me. I should’ve at least given you something — some clue. I was just terrified of jinxing it.”
They got home after midnight.
“Want some tea?” Andrey asked.
“And now you’ll finally tell me about your project?” Olga managed a small smile.
“Now I can.” He grinned back. “It’s a new kind of holographic projector. Imagine meetings that feel like you’re truly in the same room — and 3D drawings floating right in the air…”
“So that’s why you were always staying late?”
“Yeah. For the first time in years, I felt like a real engineer again.”
“And why did you go to the movies that day?”
He laughed.
“Honestly? We really were looking for a gift. Marina found out the theater was doing a retro series of 1960s sci-fi. Her dad adores those old films about the future.”
“I’m sorry,” Olga said softly. “I made up all these stories in my head.”
“No — you forgive me.” Andrey shook his head. “I signed that NDA. And I was so scared of ruining our chance.”
“And I kept thinking, why did you change? New cologne, new shirts…”
“Oh, that.” He looked a little embarrassed. “Sergey Pavlovich has strict standards about appearance.”
“So Marina is just a colleague to you?”
“Olya.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “Marina is a talented engineer — maybe even a genius. Working with her is like reading a brilliant, absorbing book. But you… you’re my life. All of it.”
“I was so afraid of losing you.”
“Silly,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “In fifteen years we’ve become more than husband and wife. We’ve become everything to each other.”
They sat in the kitchen until morning, and Olga understood something simple:
Trust built over fifteen years can carry you through any doubt.