— You do realize I’m not an idiot, right? — Marina stood in the bedroom doorway, gripping her phone. — I know everything, Alexey. Everything!
— What are you even talking about? — he reluctantly tore his eyes from the laptop screen and looked at his wife in surprise. — Your fantasies again?
— Fantasies? Seriously? You’re going to look me in the eye and lie?
— Marina, I’m tired. Let’s not have one of your tantrums right now.
— Not now? Then when? When you deign to talk about Svetlana?
Alexey snapped the laptop shut.
— What Svetlana? Are you out of your mind?
Four years of marriage dissolved in that question. Eight years of shared plans, hopes, and breakfast conversations. But now Marina saw a stranger in front of her — someone who could lie without blinking.
Two weeks before this conversation, Marina had been home alone cooking dinner when the doorbell rang. She thought Alexey had forgotten his keys — he’d been so absent-minded lately. On the threshold stood a tall blonde in an expensive coat.
— Are you Marina? Alexey’s wife?
— Yes, and you are…?
— Svetlana. Your husband’s ex-girlfriend. Can I come in? We need to talk.
A thought flashed through Marina’s mind: “Why is my husband’s ex on my doorstep?” Something in the woman’s tone made her wary.
The hostess silently stepped aside. They went to the kitchen, and Svetlana pulled out her phone.
Marina watched the stranger and tried to understand what was happening. Why had a woman from Alexey’s past appeared now, of all times?
— I’m not going to beat around the bush. Here, — she held out the phone with a message thread. — Your husband has been writing to me for the last three months. We met four times. At the Metropol Hotel, at his office, at my place and… in your apartment, when you were at your mother’s.
In their apartment? In their shared home, with their photos on the shelves, where she brewed his favorite tea every morning?
— You can take screenshots; you can see which number sent them. And all the photos too — they’re yours, — the uninvited guest said calmly.
Marina read the messages, and her hands began to tremble. “I miss you,” “You’re the most beautiful,” “I regret not marrying you.”
Each word hit dead center. Those phrases… she remembered them. Alexey had once written the same to her.
Svetlana watched the reaction of her ex’s wife and thought, “Poor fool. Naive, domestic, believing in fairytales about fidelity. Exactly the kind of woman I never was. I wonder how long it will take her to digest the truth?”
— Why are you showing me this?
Marina asked even though she already suspected the answer. Women sense lies from a distance, especially when it comes to men.
— Because he promised to marry me five years ago. He dumped me a week before the wedding. For you. And now he writes that he made a mistake.
Svetlana left the main part unsaid: that revenge is a dish best served cold. That she had waited for years for the moment she could destroy his well-being as methodically as he had destroyed her plans. She looked at Marina and saw a pitiful woman who was now going to learn the truth about her “perfect” marriage.
When Svetlana left, Marina stayed in the kitchen with a phone full of screenshots and photos. A hundred pieces of proof that her life had been an illusion.
That evening Marina was sitting in the kitchen when Alexey came home.
— Hi, sunshine. How was your day?
— Fine. Will you have dinner?
— Of course. Smells great.
She set a plate in front of him and watched him eat. An ordinary evening, ordinary words, an ordinary smile. How could he be so calm?
— Lyosha, when was the last time you spoke with Svetlana?
His fork froze halfway to his mouth.
— Which Svetlana?
— Your ex.
— Marina, that was ages ago. Why are you bringing this up?
Alexey replayed the last meeting with his lover in his head. Could someone have seen them? Or did Svetka tell her something herself? No, she wasn’t crazy…
— Just curious. You two were friends.
— “Friends” is putting it strongly. We broke up and went our separate ways. That’s all.
Marina watched his reaction and desperately wanted to believe him. Maybe everything Svetlana had brought was fake? But she had seen the phone numbers the messages came from. And the photos… dozens of them, some intimate, in bed.
Alexey kept eating, considering the topic closed. Dinner really had turned out well — potatoes with meat, just the way he liked.
The next day Marina called her sister Natasha.
— Natash, can I come over? I need your advice.
— Of course, come. Did something happen?
Natasha had known her sister since childhood. Marina never asked for help over trifles; she preferred to solve problems herself. If she was calling, it meant the matter was serious.
At her sister’s apartment, Marina told her everything about her husband’s messages, about Svetlana, the photos. Natasha listened without interrupting.
— Show me the messages.
Marina handed over the phone with photos of the screenshots.
Natasha scrolled quickly, trying to understand the lover’s motive. Why come to the wife? Usually, lovers preferred to stay in the shadows. So this was something else. Revenge?
— What a bastard! Marin, what are you going to do?
— I don’t know. Maybe it was just… flirting? Maybe nothing really happened?
Marina still doubted her own conclusions, even though the facts were right in front of her. She didn’t want to believe — it hurt too much to destroy four years of life.
— Are you serious? It literally says they met!
— But what if she’s lying? Getting back at him?
— Lying? No, it’s all clear here. Getting back at him — yes, that’s exactly what she’s doing. Female anger is a scary force. Remember my friend Lena? When her husband left, she spent three years planning how to ruin his reputation at work. And she did — now he’s working as a loader. Marin, wake up! It doesn’t matter whether she’s taking revenge — your man is cheating on you. They handed you the proof on a silver platter!
— But why him? We were happy…
Natasha pressed the point: her sister’s husband was a cheater, and this wasn’t just a one-night flirtation but systematic meetings over months.
Marina thought it over and realized her sister was right. But she still didn’t know what to do next.
Three days later was her mother-in-law’s birthday. Everyone gathered: the birthday girl, Valentina Ivanovna; her daughter Olga with her husband; the mother-in-law Elena Petrovna; Natasha; and a family friend, Igor.
— Marina, dear, you look a bit pale, — noted Valentina Ivanovna.
— I’m fine. Just tired from work.
— Lyosha, keep an eye on your wife! — Olga winked at her brother. — Or someone will whisk her away.
— Who would want her besides me? — Alexey put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. — Right, sunshine?
“Who would want her besides me,” Marina repeated to herself. Yet he wrote another woman, “You’re the most beautiful.”
She slipped out of his embrace.
Elena Petrovna looked at her son-in-law and thought, “Cocky. He always was. And Marina seems dimmed somehow.”
— I’ll go put the kettle on.
In the kitchen, Elena Petrovna approached her.
— Daughter, what’s going on? You’re not yourself.
— Mom, everything’s fine. I just have a headache.
— Marina, I gave birth to you and raised you. I can see something’s wrong. Did you and Alexey fight?
— Mom, not now. Please. His relatives are here; this isn’t the place.
Her mother left, but she kept thinking about her daughter’s strange behavior. Something had definitely happened.
Marina stayed in the kitchen, and she couldn’t get her husband’s phrases to his lover out of her head: “I miss you,” “I regret not marrying you.” And here he was saying, “Who would want her besides me.”
After dinner the men went out to the balcony to smoke. Igor clapped Alexey on the shoulder.
— So, man, how’s married life? Still the honeymoon phase?
— Great. Marina’s a gem.
— Take care of her. Women like that aren’t lying around on the road. A good wife is a big stroke of luck these days.
— Where would she go? — Alexey smirked. — Home, work, home. What options? And besides me she hardly knows anyone.
— Lyokha, hey… be careful. Times change. A buddy of mine thought the same way, and his wife went and filed for divorce. Now he pays alimony and lives in a studio.
— Oh, come on. We’re doing great. Though she has been acting strange these last few days. Quiet, looking at me from under her brows. Maybe it’s that time of the month.
— Maybe you hurt her somehow? My wife sulks sometimes too, and then it turns out I forgot our dating anniversary or something like that.
— Doesn’t seem like it. I’m a model husband, — Alexey laughed.
Igor thought about “model” Alexey and remembered how he’d seen him with a blonde in a restaurant a month ago. He’d decided not to interfere then — not his business. But now he felt awkward.
The sounds of the party were still ringing in her ears when Marina crossed the threshold of their apartment. The scent of her mother’s perfume on her dress reminded her of the just-finished birthday, where she had smiled, congratulated, and played the role of the happy daughter-in-law. Now the mask could finally come off.
Alexey went into the living room, carelessly tossing his jacket onto a chair. His movements betrayed the fatigue of a man forced to make small talk for hours.
— Alexey, I want to talk to you.
He turned, irritation flickering in his eyes.
— Oh God, again? Marina, I’m tired. I’ve got an important meeting tomorrow.
“Not now,” Alexey thought. “After a day like this, the last thing I need is a showdown. Probably over some trifle again.”
— This is more important than your meeting. Sit down.
“A serious tone. Could it really be serious? No, Marina always dramatizes.”
Alexey reluctantly dropped into an armchair, ostentatiously glancing at his watch.
— All right, spit it out. What did I do wrong this time? — His voice had a mocking edge. — Maybe I gave your mom the wrong flowers? Or my toast wasn’t solemn enough?
— Svetlana came to see me.
The blood drained from Alexey’s face, but he pulled himself together instantly, as if a self-defense mechanism had clicked on.
“Damn. That lunatic actually went to my wife. But what could she have said? And most importantly — did Marina believe her?”
— And? What did she want? — His voice sounded as indifferent as possible.
— To tell the truth. About your meetings. About what you’ve been writing to her.
— Marina, that’s nonsense! She’s insane! I told you how unhinged she is!
— Lyosha, I have proof.
Alexey jumped up, gesturing broadly.
— What proof? Her words? You believe some stranger more than your husband?
“Proof? What proof could there be? I deleted the messages, the photos… Oh God, what if she saved something?”
— It’s not just words.
— Then what? Show me this “proof”! — Alexey’s voice grew louder. — Svetka’s always been vindictive. She just can’t accept that I married someone else! She could fake anything just to break us up!
— So you admit you met with her?
“Absolutely not. If I admit to one thing, she’ll dig further.”
— No! I won’t admit anything because nothing happened!
Marina was silent, studying her husband’s face. She remembered how happy she’d been just a week ago. Their shared breakfasts, his gentle kisses before work, vacation plans. Then she pictured Svetlana — beautiful, self-confident, glowing with happiness, believing she would soon marry Alexey. Two different worlds, two different faces of the same man.
The Brunello Café sat on a quiet side street, far from the bustle of the center. Marina chose a table by the window, nervously glancing at the door. Olga arrived ten minutes late, flustered and clearly in a hurry.
— Ol, I need your advice. As Alexey’s sister.
— What happened? You two were so odd yesterday. — Olga settled into her chair, giving Marina an appraising look. — Lyoshka was on edge all evening, and you… you were too quiet.
— Your brother is cheating on me.
Olga set her cup down with a clatter, nearly spilling coffee.
“That can’t be. Lyoshka’s a fool, but not that much of a fool. Although… he’s always been weak-willed with women.”
— What? Marin, are you sure?
— I have proof. But he denies everything.
— Wait. What kind of proof?
“If there’s proof, that’s bad. But maybe Marina’s exaggerating? Women often see cheating where there isn’t any.”
— Messages, photos. His ex brought them.
— Svetka?! That witch even shows up? Marin, she’s a vengeful bitch!
— But the proof…
— Look, I know Lyoshka. He’s an idiot, but not to that extent. Maybe it’s a fake? — Olga spoke quickly, trying to find rational explanations. — With today’s tech you can fake anything. And Svetka’s always been creative with her dirty tricks.
— Olya, it’s his style, his words. Even the meeting places — all the texts came from his phone. And the photos…
— Photos are easy to fake; better, Marin, try talking to him. Calmly. — Olga didn’t believe her own words, but she defended her brother instinctively. — Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks?
Marina explained that she had already tried to talk, but her husband stubbornly denied everything. She chose not to show Olga the photos and messages — she wanted to give Alexey a chance to confess on his own. But now she understood: time was running out, and she would have to make the decision herself.
The apartment greeted them with the cool of evening. Alexey went straight to the computer, clearly planning to dive into work, but Marina didn’t let him hide behind his usual routine.
— Alexey, I’m begging you. Just tell me the truth. I’m ready to forgive. Do you understand? Forgive! But I need the truth.
She had decided: if her husband confessed, the family could be saved. Attachment to a former fiancée was the past — survivable. But lies were destructive. Without trust, a marriage is dead.
— What truth? You’ve gone crazy with your suspicions!
— Lyosha, she showed me the messages.
— So what? Anyone can fake screenshots! It’s elementary!
Marina didn’t mention that she’d seen which number the messages came from.
— And the meeting at the Metropol on the twenty-third? You said you had work.
— I did, loads of it!
— At a restaurant?
— Marina, enough! You’re turning into a paranoid! I didn’t meet with Svetlana, I didn’t write to her, I didn’t cheat on you! How many times do I have to say it?
— You know what? If you had confessed, I would have forgiven you. But your lying…
“Don’t cave. If I admit it now, she still won’t believe it wasn’t serious. Women dramatize everything.”
— I’m not lying! You’re just believing some lunatic!
Marina stood up and headed for the bedroom. Her husband wasn’t just lying to her — he was insulting her intelligence, thinking she’d buy his pathetic excuses. It was unbearable.
— Where are you going?
— To think. Alone.
“Let her cool off. By morning she’ll forget it. Women bounce back.”
Marina closed the bedroom door and took out her phone. The photos were there — Alexey and Svetlana in bed, happy, in love. She could have shown them, forced her husband to confess under the pressure of indisputable facts. But she wanted to hear, “Yes, it happened, but you’re my only love.” Those words never came.
Her mother’s house greeted Marina with the familiar smells of childhood and a warmth she had sorely missed these last few days. Elena Petrovna opened the door, saw her daughter with a suitcase, and understood everything without words.
— Tell me.
— Mom, he cheated. And he’s lying to my face. I can’t do this anymore.
— How do you know?
“Please don’t tell me it’s just female suspicions. Marina has a clear head; she’s not prone to fantasies.”
— His ex came and gave me proof. Messages, photos.
— And him?
— He denies it all. Says she’s a psycho, that it’s all fake. Mom, I tried to talk to him twice. He stuck to his story even when I offered to forgive him.
— Marin, maybe…
“I want to protect my daughter, but how? If there’s proof, it’s obvious. It’s just a pity that such a seemingly good man turned out to be a liar.”
— Mom, I know his style. His words. He wrote her the same things he once wrote to me.
— What have you decided?
— Divorce. I can’t live with someone who lies to my face.
Elena Petrovna hugged her daughter, and Marina felt grateful that there were no lectures about “all men are like that” or “you should have put up with it.”
— I’ll support you in whatever you decide.
That evening the phone rang.
— Marina, where are you? I came home and you’re gone. What is this, some childish game?
— I’m at my mother’s.
— Come home. Let’s talk. We’re adults; we’ll sort this out calmly.
— We did talk. You deny everything. Even when I offered forgiveness, you chose lies.
— Because there’s nothing to admit! Marina, you’re destroying our family over some hysteric’s nonsense!
Marina held the phone while looking at the screen — a photo of her husband and his lover, happy faces in bed, their selfie as a keepsake of a “wonderful evening.”
— No, Alexey. You destroyed it. With your lies.
— I’m coming to get you. Enough of this theater; let’s go home and discuss everything like normal people.
— Don’t. I’m filing for divorce.
— You’ve lost your mind! Over what? Over fabrications? Svetka is a sick woman; she’s taking revenge because I dumped her! Don’t you understand she’s using you?
Marina thought that in another life her husband might speak the same way about her if they had parted ways differently.
— Over your lies. Goodbye.
She hung up and felt a strange calm. The decision was the right one. Life without trust isn’t life at all.
A month later, when the divorce papers had already been filed, Marina ran into Igor at the store. She was standing in the household goods aisle studying boxes of laundry detergent when she heard a familiar voice.
— Marin! How are you?
Turning, she saw Igor — Alexey’s colleague, with whom they often spent time in group outings. His face showed embarrassment, as if he hadn’t expected to meet her.
— I’m fine. Living, — Marina replied, trying to keep her voice even.
Igor shifted from foot to foot, clearly wrestling with something.
— Listen, I… I need to tell you something. About Lyoshka.
— Don’t. It’s over, — Marina turned back to the shelf, pretending to study the ingredients on a cleaner. — The papers are filed, the apartment is divided. What’s left to talk about?
— No, wait. I saw him with Svetlana. A couple of months ago. I didn’t know what to say to you, — Igor lowered his head. — I thought maybe you knew, maybe you had some kind of arrangement… Then I found out you were divorcing. I’ve been torturing myself these weeks, you understand? I should’ve told you right away, but he’s my friend — I just didn’t know what the right thing was.
Marina slowly turned to him. Not a muscle in her face moved.
— Thank you for telling me now. At least I know I wasn’t going crazy.
— Marin, he’s an idiot. To lose you over…
— He didn’t lose me because of the cheating. He lost me because of the lies. I was ready to forgive. But he chose to lie to the end, — Marina’s voice softened, but each word was distinct. — You can forgive weakness. You can understand a mistake. But when a person looks you in the eye and continues to lie, when you give them a chance to tell the truth… that’s no longer a mistake. That’s a choice.
Igor nodded, at a loss for words.
— Good luck, Marin. You… you did the right thing.
A week later Olga told Marina that Alexey had moved in with Svetlana. Her sister-in-law called in the evening while Marina was unpacking boxes in her new one-bedroom apartment.
— He moved yesterday, — Olga reported. — Took his things, left the keys on the kitchen table. Can you believe the nerve?
And a month later the same Olga called with the sequel:
— Svetlana kicked him out! — Olga’s voice barely hid her glee. — She said she got her revenge for the past and now they’re even.
Marina listened, feeling a strange relief. Not joy — she was far from that. More like the satisfaction that the circle had closed. That justice, however twisted, had prevailed.
“So I wasn’t a wife; I was a pawn in someone else’s game,” she thought, putting down the phone.
Alexey tried to come back to Marina — he wrote, called, went to his mother-in-law’s. But Marina was adamant. The last time he showed up at the door of her new apartment was on a Saturday morning. He stood there rumpled, unshaven, holding a bouquet of chrysanthemums.
— I gave you a chance — more than one. You chose lies. Live with that choice, — she said, not inviting him in. — I’m not angry anymore, Lyosha. I just don’t trust you. And without trust, there’s nothing.
— Marina, forgive me! I was a fool! — he held out the flowers, but she didn’t take them. — She used me! I realized it too late. I love only you, I always have!
— Yes, you were. And you still are, — Marina shook her head. — You don’t understand the main thing, Alexey. A person who lies about small things will betray over something big. And I’m not going to spend my life playing detective, checking your every word. Goodbye, Alexey.
She closed the door, leaving him standing on the landing. Inside, her mother, her sister, and a new life were waiting. A life without lies.