“Get that crystal monstrosity off the table, Sonya. We’re not having some village feast here,” Sveta snapped irritably.
My sister pushed my favorite salad bowl away from the elegant tartlets with obvious disgust. Then she adjusted her flawless salon-styled hair and admired her reflection in the dark glass of the expensive oven.
I ignored the jab and kept arranging thin slices of cheese on a wide porcelain platter. It was her fortieth birthday, and I had foolishly agreed to come three hours early to help with slicing, serving, and setting everything up.
In her spacious apartment, every object seemed arranged according to the strict rules of glossy interior magazines. There was not even the faintest trace of real warmth or homely comfort.
“Is Oleg even parking, or is he retaking his driving test out there?” the birthday girl complained, nervously rearranging the crystal glasses.
Her lawful husband had already been gone for a good forty minutes, supposedly searching for a free parking spot near the twenty-four-hour supermarket next door. In reality, he was simply delaying the moment when he would have to dive headfirst into the chaos of pre-party preparations.
I only shrugged and carefully folded thick paper napkins into fans beside each guest’s place setting. In this perfect house, any careless word of mine could instantly become the reason for a long, moralizing lecture on how one ought to live.
Sveta had always loved emphasizing her status as a successful married woman against the background of my modest, quiet, single life. Her sharp, judging gaze slid over my simple dress, as if searching for imaginary flaws in the fabric.
His restless, evasive eyes always made me want to go and wash my hands with laundry soap. I remembered yesterday evening’s conversation in the narrow, dimly lit hallway of this very apartment far too well.
Back then, Sveta had ordered me to go meet the grocery courier on the stair landing. Meanwhile, she had disappeared into the spacious bathroom to polish her beauty in front of the huge mirror.
I was standing by the coat rack, recording an important voice message for a colleague about an urgent work project. At that exact moment, Oleg approached me silently from behind, blocking my way out.
My phone continued faithfully recording every surrounding sound while this exemplary family man suddenly began pouring out his dark little soul to me. He complained about his wife with such dramatic misery, as though she personally forced him to work in heavy uranium mines every single day.
Oleg whined about his ruined youth, his wife’s unbearable demands, and the complete absence of human understanding in his marriage. I simply pulled my sleeve out of his clingy fingers in disgust and walked silently back into the bright kitchen.
The guests arrived in a loud, colorful crowd, instantly filling the hallway with laughter, rustling gift bags, and endless commotion. Yegor and Katya solemnly carried in a huge, ridiculous broom-like bouquet of crimson gladioli wrapped in shiny paper.
The flowers immediately began shedding all over the fluffy light-colored carpet in the middle of the room. Sveta spread her lips into a wide, unnatural smile and accepted this botanical disaster with the grace of a British queen at an official reception.
The bouquet was then lovingly placed in the very center of the festive table, in a tall and unstable vase. That lush bundle blocked my view of half the guests’ faces, turning the dinner into a strange game of hide-and-seek.
Yegor, wearing a deeply thoughtful expression, discussed sky-high prices for country houses while methodically devouring expensive sandwiches topped with red caviar. Katya kept adjusting her large sparkling necklace, which looked suspiciously like a very convincing Chinese imitation.
Sveta nodded graciously at them like a condescending monarch, clearly enjoying her role as a generous and wealthy hostess. From time to time, she did not forget to cast strict, controlling glances at me, making sure I cleared dirty plates at the proper moment.
Oleg, who had finally emerged from oblivion, bustled around arranging sweating glass bottles of mineral water. He carefully avoided my eyes, hiding his reddened face behind tall crystal goblets.
“Sonya darling, why have you completely ignored the baked trout?” my sister called loudly across the table, deliberately drawing everyone’s attention to me.
I froze for a second with my fork raised in my hand, clearly realizing that the planned free circus performance had begun. Katya awkwardly adjusted the lace collar of her blouse, shifting her confused gaze from my plate to the birthday girl, who was glowing with self-satisfaction.
“Honestly, who are you even saving your figure for at your age?” Sveta sighed theatrically, folding her arms across her chest with arrogant elegance. “There’s no decent gentleman on the horizon, no family in sight, only boring work schedules and household errands in your head.”
At that painfully awkward moment, Yegor choked on his fruit drink and began coughing violently into his snow-white napkin. The rest of the guests froze in place, doing their best to pretend they were deeply fascinated by the golden patterns on the expensive tablecloth.
I looked meaningfully at Oleg, hoping weakly that he might at least make some timid attempt to stop this stream of poisonous mockery. But the lawful head of the family merely picked at his vegetable salad with his fork, skillfully pretending to be completely deaf and mute.
My life-saving strategy of endlessly forgiving relatives suffered a final and irreparable collapse that day. Sveta had spent her whole life mercilessly pushing me into the background while demanding regular admiration for her supposedly perfect self.
The birthday girl slowly and very ceremoniously rose from her soft chair, lifting a crystal glass filled with pomegranate juice. Her eyes feverishly glittered with the overwhelming sense of her own incredible greatness and unquestionable importance.
She had clearly rehearsed this prepared speech in front of a large mirror dozens of times, carefully selecting the most touching intonations.
“You know, my dear guests, by the age of forty I have finally understood the most important thing in this vast world,” she began in a deep, velvety voice.
Sveta swept her possessive gaze over the room, enjoying everyone’s obedient attention.
“A woman’s true happiness is a strong family hearth and a reliable, loving man by her side — my wonderful Oleg.”
She made a long, dramatic theatrical pause, then looked straight into my eyes from above with open, mocking pity.
“And from the bottom of my heart, I raise this glass with the sincere hope that our Sonya will one day stop being such a sad burden to society. Perhaps she will finally pull herself together and find at least someone to brighten her gray loneliness.”
Every sound in the spacious living room vanished at once, replaced by a thick, almost tangible tension. The guests stopped chewing and breathing in perfect unison, turning into a collection of frozen wax figures in some provincial museum.
Slowly, carefully, and with complete calm, I placed my cloth napkin on the very edge of my empty plate. Every pair of eyes in the room instantly focused on my measured, quiet movements.
Earlier that morning, while helping my sister set the table, I had connected my phone to the smart speaker on the low cabinet at her own request so we could play background music. At that exact moment, there was not a single drop of doubt left inside me — only absolute, cold clarity about what I would do next.
I slowly took my phone out of the pocket of my linen dress, unlocked the bright screen, and with one tap started the last saved audio file. From the powerful stereo speakers of the smart device, a pleading, sickeningly familiar male voice immediately filled the silent room.
“Sveta has completely finished me off. I can’t take her endless whims and complaints anymore,” Oleg’s voice announced clearly and unbelievably loudly to everyone present.
Yegor dropped the heavy silver fork from his hand in shock. It struck the edge of a porcelain dish with a loud clang before bouncing onto the laminate floor.
“She’s completely empty inside. All she cares about is buying clothes and putting on a show for the neighbors,” the electronic speaker continued mercilessly. “Sonya, you’re different. You’re a real woman. Let’s meet tomorrow evening, just the two of us. We can sit somewhere quiet without her. I need normal affection and support so badly.”
In a single second, every warm shade drained from the haughty birthday girl’s face, turning it into a gray, lifeless, motionless mask. She shifted her wild, disbelieving, horrified gaze toward her picture-perfect husband.
Oleg practically sank into the back of his soft chair, rapidly breaking out in uneven crimson and pale blotches. Katya pressed both palms to her burning cheeks, forgetting to close her mouth, which hung slightly open in utter amazement.
At that very moment, the illusion of an ideal family, carefully constructed over years, shattered into pieces, generously covering everyone present with the sticky fragments of someone else’s hypocrisy. I did not obediently wait for the beginning of a grand scandal, flying dishes, and pitiful, stammering excuses.
With perfect calm and a straight back, I rose from my seat and slowly walked around the long festive table. With both hands, I firmly picked up my heavy crystal salad bowl from right under frozen Katya’s nose.
Not a single guest dared to move or make a sound as they followed me with round, stunned eyes. In the narrow, bright hallway, I calmly put on my light spring coat, carefully and unhurriedly smoothing the collar in front of the large mirror.
From the living room came Sveta’s first piercing scream, cracking into hysteria, immediately followed by the pathetic, whining babble of her unfaithful husband. I closed the heavy front door behind me carefully and firmly, forever cutting that cheap domestic performance off from my peaceful reality.
The air in the clean stairwell seemed unbelievably fresh, cool, and wonderfully transparent. The phone in my coat pocket immediately began vibrating nonstop under a dense stream of incoming text messages.
Without reading them, I swiped the annoying notifications away, opened my banking app, and confidently canceled the large scheduled transfer meant for my sister’s gift. With the money I saved, I will buy myself an excellent new set of glasses — glasses I will fill with juice only for the people I am truly happy to welcome into my home.