Marina opened her eyes twenty minutes before the alarm was supposed to ring. Her heart was beating steadily, but her mind was already working at full speed. Today was a special day. Today, she and Andrey were hosting guests.
She turned onto her side and looked at her sleeping husband. His face was relaxed, his breathing deep. Let him sleep a little longer. She still had time to make coffee.
In the kitchen, Marina pulled a notebook from the drawer. Four pages covered in tiny handwriting: the menu, the shopping list, the schedule hour by hour. Five married couples — ten people. Plus herself and Andrey. Twelve plates, twelve sets of cutlery, twelve glasses.
The coffee machine began to hum. Marina poured two cups and carried one into the bedroom.
“Andrey,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Wake up. We have a lot to do today.”
He mumbled something without opening his eyes.
“I brought you coffee. Your favorite, with cinnamon.”
“What time is it?” His voice was hoarse and displeased.
“Seven fifteen. You took the day off, remember? We agreed to start early.”
Andrey sat up and rubbed his eyes. He took the cup and had a sip.
“Thanks. Listen, maybe we should just order something ready-made? There are so many delivery services now.”
Marina smiled.
“We already talked about this. Olga is famous for the dinners she hosts. If we order food from a restaurant, she’ll know right away.”
“So what? Big deal.”
“Andrey, this is your new boss. And his wife. First impressions matter.”
He shrugged.
“Fine, whatever you say. Give me your list.”
Marina handed him the notebook. Andrey flipped through the pages with growing surprise.
“All of this in one day?”
“We’ll manage together. You’ll handle the shopping and help with the main course. I’ll take care of dessert and the table setting.”
“Sounds like a military operation.”
“This matters to me,” she said gently but clearly. “And it matters to you too. Your promotion is our shared celebration.”
Andrey finished his coffee and placed the cup on the nightstand.
“All right. Give me twenty minutes to shower.”
Marina nodded and left the room. Twenty minutes was fine. They would manage everything.
Andrey appeared in the kitchen forty minutes later. Marina was already mixing the cake batter. Flour settled over the work surface like a white cloud.
“You look busy,” he said, coming up behind her and kissing the top of her head.
“The cake needs to go in first. It has to cool for four hours.”
“Got it. What should I do?”
Marina nodded toward the notebook.
“Page two. Shopping list with store addresses. I planned the whole route so you don’t have to drive around the city aimlessly.”
“Serious approach.”
“I want everything to go perfectly.”
Andrey picked up the notebook and began reading. At that moment, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his face changed.
“Yes. I’m listening.”
Marina continued kneading the dough, but she watched him from the corner of her eye. His eyebrows drew together. He turned toward the window.
“Now? But I took the day off… Yes, I understand. How urgent is it?”
The dough suddenly felt heavy under Marina’s hands.
“All right. I’ll be there in forty minutes.”
He hung up and turned back to her. A guilty expression had settled on his face.
“Marina…”
“No.”
“I have to.”
“No, Andrey. We agreed.”
“It’s Pavel Sergeevich. My new boss. Something happened, and he needs me there.”
Marina set the dough aside. Slowly, she wiped her hands on a towel.
“We are hosting him and his wife at our home tonight. You can’t tell him you’re busy?”
“That’s exactly why I can’t. Do you understand?”
“No. I don’t.”
Andrey came closer and took her by the shoulders.
“I’ll be back by lunchtime. One o’clock at the latest. We’ll still have plenty of time.”
“Plenty of time?” She looked at him. “Andrey, the guests arrive in eight hours. I need to cook four dishes, bake a cake, set the table, clean the apartment, and get ready. And that schedule was based on two people doing it.”
“I understand. But this is my job. My new position.”
“The one I’m standing here covered in flour for.”
“Marina, please. Don’t start.”
She stepped back.
“I’m not starting anything. I’m simply stating a fact. You promised to help. You took the day off. And now you’re leaving.”
“I’ll be back by lunch.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Marina looked at him for several seconds. Then she nodded.
“Fine. Go.”
“You’re not angry?”
“I hope you keep your word.”
Andrey got dressed quickly. At the door, he turned back.
“Thank you for understanding. You’re the best.”
The door shut behind him. Marina stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the to-do list. Eight hours. Four dishes. One person.
She took a deep breath and returned to the dough.
The first message came at eleven: “I’m delayed. The meeting is taking longer than expected.”
Marina read it and put her phone away. The cake was already in the oven. She was chopping vegetables for the salad while also keeping an eye on the broth simmering on the stove.
The second message came at half past twelve: “I’ll be there soon. One more hour at most.”
She didn’t reply. Her hands were busy arranging appetizers on a large platter. Cheese canapés, pâté tartlets, lavash rolls. Everything had to look beautiful. Olga would notice every detail.
At two o’clock, her phone rang. Marina answered with wet hands.
“Yes.”
“Marina, here’s the thing…”
“Are you on your way?”
“I’ll leave in half an hour. I promise.”
“Andrey, the guests are coming at seven. I still need to change, do my makeup, and check the table setting.”
“I know. I’m coming.”
“You’ve been saying that for five hours.”
“Marina, what am I supposed to do? It’s work.”
“You could have said no.”
“I couldn’t. You understand that.”
Marina was silent for a moment. Then she said evenly:
“I understand that I’ve been waiting for you since seven in the morning. I understand that I’ve done everything alone. I understand that you haven’t even apologized.”
“I’m apologizing now. I’m sorry. I’m coming.”
He hung up.
Marina put the phone down and looked at the clock. Five hours until the guests arrived. The main course still wasn’t ready. The apartment hadn’t been cleaned. The table hadn’t been set.
She opened the fridge and took out the meat. Her hands moved automatically. Slice it, season it, place it in the baking dish. Put it in the oven. Set the timer.
By four, she was finished with the food. She ran through the apartment with the vacuum cleaner. She arranged chairs in the living room. She took the festive tablecloth out of the closet.
At five, she set the table. Twelve plates, twelve sets of cutlery, twelve glasses. Everything symmetrical. Everything perfect.
At six, she took a shower. She put on the dress she had bought especially for that evening. Black, formal, elegant. She applied her makeup carefully, layer by layer, hiding the traces of a sleepless night and a frantic day.
At half past six, she heard a key turning in the lock.
Andrey came in cheerful and smiling. He didn’t even notice how tense she became.
“Wow! You look amazing!”
Marina didn’t answer.
“And everything here… it looks incredible. You did great.”
“The guests will be here in half an hour.”
“Got it. I’ll change quickly.”
He disappeared into the bedroom. Marina stood in the middle of the perfectly cleaned living room, beside the perfectly set table, wearing her perfect dress. She felt something inside her slowly turning to stone.
The guests arrived in pairs. First came Pavel Sergeevich and Olga — he looked respectable, and she wore an expensive dress with an appraising squint. Then came the others — Andrey’s former classmates with their wives, colleagues with their husbands.
Marina smiled. She accepted compliments. She served appetizers.
“These tartlets are lovely!” Olga said, taking one and biting into it. “Did you make them yourself?”
“Yes, everything is homemade.”
“Amazing. These days, few people go to that much trouble.”
Andrey came over and put his arm around Marina’s waist.
“My wife is a real magician. She made everything herself.”
“You are wonderful,” Olga said approvingly. “Andrey, you’re lucky to have such a wife.”
“I know,” he beamed. “I appreciate it.”
Marina kept smiling. The smile clung to her face like a mask.
The evening went on as expected. The men discussed work, the women talked about travel and renovations. Marina moved between the kitchen and the living room, changing dishes and refilling glasses.
“The meat is incredible,” one of the guests said. “Will you share the recipe?”
“Of course,” Marina smiled. “The secret is in the marinade.”
“Andrey, you’re a lucky man,” Pavel Sergeevich said, raising his glass. “To the hostess of this home!”
Everyone drank. Andrey looked at her with pride. He really was proud. Proud that his wife had managed everything. Proud that the evening was a success. Proud of himself, because he was the one who had chosen her.
Marina poured herself some water. Her throat was dry from constant conversation.
“You must have been cooking all day,” one of the wives, Svetlana, said.
“Since early morning.”
“And did Andrey help?”
Marina looked at her husband. He was standing at the other end of the room, laughing at some joke.
“Andrey was busy at work.”
“Oh, I understand. New position, right? They all go through that. My Dima barely came home during his first six months.”
“Yes, probably.”
At ten, the guests began to leave. Long goodbyes in the hallway, promises to meet again, words of gratitude for a wonderful evening.
“Marina, you are simply a marvel,” Olga said, shaking her hand. “I invite you to our place next month. You’ll see how we host guests.”
“Thank you, I’d be delighted.”
The door closed behind the last couple. Andrey leaned against the wall, relaxed and satisfied.
“It went great, didn’t it?”
Marina didn’t answer. She walked into the living room, where dirty plates were piled up.
“Pavel Sergeevich was thrilled. And Olga too. Did you see the way she looked at our interior?”
Marina began collecting dishes.
“Hey,” Andrey said, coming closer. “Why are you so quiet? Are you tired?”
“Yes, Andrey. I’m tired.”
“Then leave the dishes. I’ll wash them tomorrow.”
She carefully placed the plates back on the table. Then she turned to face him.
“You’ll wash them tomorrow?”
“Well, yes. It’s late now. Let’s go to bed.”
“And why didn’t you wash them today?”
“Me? When?”
“Any time. Morning. Afternoon. Evening. You promised to help, Andrey.”
He frowned.
“I explained it already. Work.”
“Work. Yes.”
“Marina, what’s wrong with you? Everything went perfectly. The guests are happy, my boss is impressed. Isn’t that what matters?”
“Did you think about what matters to me?”
“What are you talking about?”
Marina spoke evenly, without raising her voice.
“I got up at seven in the morning. I made you coffee. I planned out the entire day. You promised to help. Instead, you left and came back one hour before the guests arrived.”
“But I couldn’t refuse…”
“You could. You chose not to. Those are different things.”
“Marina, you’re overreacting.”
“No. I’m stating a fact. You left me alone. You didn’t even apologize properly. Then you came home and accepted all the compliments as if it was your achievement.”
“I told everyone you made everything yourself!”
“You did. Once. Between two jokes about golf.”
Andrey spread his hands.
“I don’t understand what you want. The evening was a success. Everyone is happy. Why are you turning this into a problem?”
“Because I’m not happy, Andrey. Because you don’t see me.”
“Don’t see you? I talked about you all evening!”
“You talked. But you didn’t listen. You didn’t help. And you didn’t notice that I could barely stand.”
He sighed.
“All right. You’re tired, I get it. Let’s talk tomorrow, after you’ve rested.”
“No.”
“No?”
“We’re going to talk now.”
Andrey crossed his arms.
“Fine. Let’s talk. What do you want to hear?”
“I want to hear that you understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is that you’re angry over nothing.”
Marina shook her head.
“The problem is that to you, my work is nothing.”
“I never said that.”
“You showed it. With everything you did.”
Andrey snorted.
“Here we go. Now you’re going to say I’m a bad husband, that I don’t appreciate you, that you’re unhappy…”
“I’m going to say what’s true. You took the day off to help me. You canceled it for work. You didn’t warn me in advance. You didn’t offer any alternative. You simply left.”
“I couldn’t do anything else!”
“You could. You could have said, ‘Marina, work is calling, it’s urgent. Let’s order some of the dishes so you don’t exhaust yourself.’ You could have said, ‘Let’s postpone the dinner.’ You could have said, ‘I’m sorry, I let you down, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right.’”
“And what would that have changed?”
“Everything. It would have shown that you were thinking about me. That I exist to you.”
Andrey turned away.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No. I’m telling the truth.”
He spun back around.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve been silent for too long. When you forgot our plans because of work. When you promised one thing and did another. When you took my efforts for granted.”
“I never…”
“Andrey. Today I worked alone for twelve hours. I cooked dinner for twelve people. I cleaned the apartment. I set the table. I changed, put on makeup, and smiled all evening. And not once — not once — did you ask how I felt.”
He was silent.
“You came home pleased with yourself. You accepted compliments. You enjoyed the evening. And I was the servant at your celebration.”
“That’s unfair.”
“That’s the truth. And I am not going to tolerate it anymore.”
Andrey grew alert.
“What do you mean?”
Marina went into the hallway. She took a small travel bag from the closet.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to Katya’s for a couple of days.”
“Now? At night?”
“She’s expecting me. I texted her an hour ago.”
Andrey stepped toward her.
“Wait. This is foolish. Let’s talk about this calmly.”
“We did talk. You said I was being dramatic. That the problem was nothing. That I should calm down.”
“That’s not what I meant…”
“That is exactly what you meant. And it shows that you don’t hear me. You don’t want to hear me.”
She put on her coat.
“Marina, this is ridiculous. You can’t leave in the middle of the night because of some argument.”
“This is not an argument, Andrey. This is a boundary.”
“What kind of boundary?”
“Mine. The one you crossed today. And I will no longer allow you to do that.”
He stood there, not knowing what to say. His confidence had disappeared somewhere.
“Will you come back?”
“I don’t know. That depends on you.”
“On me?”
“Yes. On whether you are ready to see me. Truly see me.”
Marina opened the door.
“Wait!” He grabbed her hand. “Don’t leave like this. I… I don’t understand what’s happening.”
She looked at him coldly.
“Exactly. You don’t understand. And until you want to understand, we have nothing to talk about.”
“What should I do?”
“Think. Remember today. Remember what you felt when you left. Remember whether you thought about me even once.”
“I did think about you!”
“You thought about whether I would manage. Not about how I felt.”
She pulled her hand free.
“The dishes are on the table. You can start with them.”
The door closed. Andrey remained standing in the hallway, staring at the empty space.
In the living room, dirty plates, cutlery, and glasses with lipstick marks were waiting.
He went into the kitchen. He opened the dishwasher. Then he closed it again.
He sat down on a stool and buried his head in his hands.
The phone on the table buzzed. A message from Marina: “I arrived. Don’t call. I’ll write when I’m ready.”
Andrey stared at the screen for a long time. Then he stood up and began clearing the table.
For the first time in many years, he was doing it himself. And for the first time, he realized how much time it took.
Outside the window, dawn was breaking. A new day began with dirty dishes and an empty apartment. The celebration was over. It was time to think about what he had done.