Finally finishing cleaning, Lisa looked around the apartment one more time and let out a satisfied sigh. She had been meaning to do a thorough cleaning for a while but never got around to it. Stanislav had been disappearing at work all weekend lately, having received a small promotion, and Lisa found things to do herself so as not to spend those days in boredom.
Elizaveta worked at a school and volunteered to lead a drama club. At first, she thought it wouldn’t be very popular, but many of the students became interested, offered ideas, and eventually, they created some very interesting plays. They were even invited to perform at cultural houses from a local factory and a poultry farm. Now, Lisa had no free time. She would have spent all day in rehearsal today, but the school had its electricity turned off for the whole day, giving her a chance to attend to her home.
Elizaveta poured some berry tea into her favorite cup and stepped out onto the balcony, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Although it was a warm autumn, it noticeably cooled off in the evening. And it was already drizzling, tapping against the balcony windows. Lisa cracked the window open, inhaled the fresh air scented with fallen leaves and rain, and looked down.
A familiar car was parked at the entrance. Her husband had been dropped off again by his coworker. A friend of Lisa’s, seeing Stanislav with this young woman once, immediately called Lisa and blurted out without even saying hello:
“Lizka, you won’t believe it!” she said excitedly. “I just saw your Stas at the crossroads. He’s sitting in some woman’s car, can you imagine?!”
“The green Matiz?” Lisa asked in a calm tone.
“Exactly! So, you already know?”
“Yes, that’s his coworker, Lyana. They work in the same office and she often gives Stas a ride when he’s without his own car.”
“Oh, then I understand,” Nelya breathed a sigh of relief over the phone. “I thought our quiet guy was playing around, and with such an unattractive woman, even though she’s young.”
This was exactly why Lisa was not jealous of her husband. Lyana was actually quite unattractive, and Stas even said that with such looks, the poor girl would remain a spinster forever. Even her youth could hardly compensate for her plainness.
Seeing Lyana’s car, Lisa hurried to the kitchen to warm up dinner for her husband. Her mood was excellent. Today Stas came back earlier; perhaps they could go for a walk if he wasn’t too tired, or at least watch a movie together.
But Stas, upon entering the apartment, stirred anxiety in his wife’s chest. Pale, he seemed agitated. He looked at Lisa, avoiding eye contact, and sat down on a pouf without taking off his coat.
“What happened, Stasik?” Lisa asked worriedly, sitting down next to him on a stool.
“Liz, I couldn’t tell you before, and now I can’t keep it silent anymore, so please listen and don’t interrupt. It’s hard for me to say this, but I must. – He licked his dry lips, unzipped his jacket, and lowered his gaze to the floor, – I… Lyana and I… In short, I’ve fallen in love with Lyana and want to be only with her. Please let us have the apartment, Liz… Lyana is pregnant, and you can live alone in the communal apartment. Please, for the sake of our past years…”
In an instant, Lisa’s entire life flashed before her eyes. They had been married for nearly thirteen years. They didn’t have children not because either of them was infertile, but because Lisa was scared to become a mother. She loved children, which is why she chose her job, but she feared she wouldn’t handle it if her child fell ill or something bad happened—she simply wouldn’t be able to bear it. She had watched her younger brother suffer from epilepsy seizures as a child, how her mother cried, how Lisa herself hid in the closet during those moments, and how her father paced the rooms, wringing his hands. Those scars lasted a lifetime. Then everyone, including her brother, somehow forgot about those seizures as they stopped naturally, and now he was completely healthy, but Lisa could never forget. And how she worried when she saw sick children brought to school by careless mothers, always fearing the child might die at any moment. That’s why she was afraid to become a mother. And Stanislav neither objected nor insisted that they needed children; he was neutral about it, and after discussing it once, it was never brought up again. And now… Stanislav was going to be a father… And Lyana would be the mother… Who would have thought!
“Liz, why are you silent?” Stas asked, swallowing a lump in his throat and lightly touching Elizabeth’s hand.
“What is there to say?” Elizabeth stirred, – I just did a thorough cleaning today… And prepared dinner, and… I’ll just pack my things.
She stood up heavily, stroked her husband’s head, and whispered:
“There’s order in the communal apartment, right? No repairs needed? Of course, I’ll be fine there. You’re right, Stas, why would I need all this space alone, and you need it more… You and Lyana…”
Lisa walked into the room and began mechanically pulling her things out of the closet.
She packed the essentials in a small travel bag: clothes, cosmetics, passport. The rest—photo albums, books, some trinkets—she decided to take later. “When they’re not home, then I’ll stop by. I don’t want to see either him or her.” Thoughts swirled in her head, how strangely everything turned out, and yet just half an hour ago, she dreamed of how they would spend a wonderful evening together…
“Stas,” she called him, stepping into the hallway with her travel bag, “I’m leaving now, I’ll take the rest later. When you two aren’t home.”
He nodded silently, eyes downcast. The corners of his lips trembled with an indeterminate mix of guilt and relief. Lisa noticed that he didn’t utter a single word in defense, didn’t try to hold her back, didn’t ask what she would do next. Apparently, he really didn’t care how she would manage. He just quietly muttered:
“Liz… I’d help you with the things, if you need…”
“No need,” Lisa cut him off, feeling a wall of cold indifference rising inside her. “I’ll manage on my own.”
She threw on her jacket, quickly tied her hair in a careless bun, and without looking back at her husband, walked out of the apartment. The door closed quietly behind her. It was as if she had left a part of herself behind that door—the part that believed in their cloudless marital bliss.
It was already dark outside, the air filled with the scent of autumnal dampness and moisture. The rain, which had only been drizzling earlier, now intensified, but Lisa hardly noticed it as she walked away from the entrance. A taxi was already waiting at the curb.
“Where to?” the taxi driver asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.
“Bolotnikova, twenty-eight,” Lisa replied evenly, realizing she was naming the address of the very place she had sworn never to return to.
The car moved off, smoothly entering the evening traffic. Lisa leaned back in the seat, her weary gaze fixed on the window as raindrops trickled down it. Thoughts, like bare wires, haphazardly jumped from one memory to another. She remembered the moments of her life with Stas. She remembered how they first met at a college party—she was just twenty then, and laughing, she accidentally spilled lemonade on his shirt. Stas always joked that it was fate, “marking” him for her.
A year later, they had a modest civil ceremony, without grand speeches, without many relatives and guests. There was no veil; Lisa wore a light summer dress she had since high school. They were poor students then, and a wedding seemed an unnecessary luxury they could do without. But there was so much love and hope. She was sure that with such a person, they could overcome anything.
They initially lived in that very communal apartment where Stas brought his bride after the wedding. How she hated that place! Six years of fighting for personal space: a shared kitchen, constant scandals with neighbors through the wall, a queue for the shower, and noisy children shouting at night. Lisa would startle at every sound, unable to sleep, falling asleep only in the early morning, her face buried in a pillow, just to not hear other people’s voices.
She remembered standing in the kitchen, waiting for her turn to cook soup or just boil water in the kettle. There was always someone there: neighbors discussing their endless household problems, children running past her, shouting. Lisa always felt like a stranger in this noisy world, trying to communicate as little as possible, not to get involved in these senseless conversations. When they finally moved to their own apartment, it felt like she had escaped from prison.
This apartment became a new beginning for them. After Lisa’s grandmother passed away, leaving her a two-room apartment, they moved in with boundless joy. They renovated, chose new furniture, and every corner of that apartment was arranged with love. Lisa felt that she had finally found her place. She could sit on the balcony with a book, cook in her own kitchen, knowing that no one would burst in, demanding their time at the stove or washing machine.
But now, years later, all these memories seemed to dissolve into a gray haze. What once seemed so important was now just an episode of a distant life. A life that no longer existed.
“Funny,” Lisa thought, watching the city lights flicker past the taxi window, “how quickly you can lose what you built for years.”
The taxi turned towards the outskirts of the city, where one of the most unpleasant districts began. There were no green parks here, only gray buildings and dirty streets. The further they drove, the more Lisa remembered how she feared walking the streets after eight in the evening. These places always seemed dangerous, uncomfortable to her.
Now she was to live here again. How did it happen that after so many years of life together, she found herself on the fringes of fate, as if superfluous? Did she deserve this—after all the efforts, after all the years they lived together, remaining faithful to each other, albeit without major events, but in peace and harmony? Had she angered fate? Maybe her refusal to have children was a mistake? Maybe, if she and Stanislav had had a child, things would have been different? But she always thought she had the right to choose when and how to become a mother. Stas seemed not eager to have children either, and they never seriously discussed this topic after that first, only conversation.
Thoughts, like viscous smoke, enveloped her consciousness until a sudden thought, like lightning, illuminated her mind. Who forced her? No one actually drove her out by force. She had agreed to leave voluntarily! Voluntarily freed her apartment for Stas and Lyana. Was that fair? What was she doing in the end? Why did she suddenly decide to give them her apartment, received from her beloved grandmother as a last gift? So that this woman could comfortably carry a child from her, Lisa’s husband? No, that wouldn’t do. It was her home, her apartment, her life! And no one had the right to take it from her.
Lisa looked at the driver, took a deep breath, and said:
“Turn around, we’re going back.”
The driver looked at her in surprise through the mirror but silently turned the car around. Lisa hardly noticed the road as she returned. Her head was buzzing with thoughts, but one thing was clear—she wouldn’t give up her apartment. After all, she was the owner. And not for her grandmother to leave her this apartment so she could give it to another woman, a predator, who had taken her husband.
When the taxi stopped at her entrance, Lisa paid and quickly got out. She almost ran up the stairs, hurrying to her door, not giving herself time to doubt. With trembling fingers, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The door swung open, and Lisa immediately noticed a strange woman’s bag in the hallway.
“Lyana is already here,” she thought, but there was no panic or fear. There was a sense of determination, as if she was not facing a battle, but something inevitable. She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
Stas, hearing the click of the lock, came out of the kitchen, saw Lisa, and hesitated a bit.
“Liz, what’s up? Did you forget something?” he asked, then turned towards the kitchen and said, “Lyana, don’t worry, she’ll just take what she forgot and leave.”
He spoke with some careless calm, not expecting any trouble. But Lisa had no intention of leaving. She stepped into the hallway, took off her coat, and hung it on the hook, then walked into the bedroom and began putting her things back in the closet.
After finishing with her things, Lisa headed to the kitchen, where Stas and Lyana were finishing the dinner she had prepared.
“Well, are you full?” she asked quietly but firmly.
They both froze, looking at her, not understanding what she meant. Lisa crossed her arms over her chest.
“If you’ve finished eating, please leave my apartment.”
Stas, confused, stood up:
“What are you talking about? You agreed to leave, didn’t you? We agreed that you would give up this housing to us. It will be cramped for us in the communal apartment, she’s pregnant, you agreed that we needed it more…”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Lisa replied unflinchingly, “This is my apartment. Mine! Not yours, not Lyana’s, but mine. If it’s going to be cramped for you in the communal apartment, figure it out yourself, like a grown boy.”
“But, Lisa, you understand…” he began.
“No, Stas,” Lisa interrupted, “I don’t understand! If you’ve decided to have a child, then you should provide for its future yourselves. That’s your responsibility, not mine. I’m not obligated to sacrifice myself for your comfort.”
Stas tried to object for a few more minutes, but Lisa was adamant. He realized he wouldn’t achieve anything, sighed heavily, and looking at the floor, told Lyana to get ready.
When the door slammed behind them, Lisa felt a strange calm. She knew she would no longer regret anything. Yes, perhaps things would have turned out differently if she and Stas had had a child. But it turned out this way, and now all she had left was to accept it as a fact and move on. And although much had changed, Lisa felt neither bitterness nor regret. “Everything happens for the best,” she remembered her grandmother’s words and nodded.