The plane touched down exactly on time. Elena breathed out in relief—the journey was finally over. Two weeks by the sea had been wonderful, of course, but the longing for home had grown overwhelming. She imagined stepping into her own bathroom for a long, hot shower, brewing tea, and curling up on the couch in front of the TV. No tours, no schedules, no rushing from one attraction to another. Just silence, calm, and the solitude she had missed so deeply.
Her husband was supposed to meet her at the airport, but ten minutes before landing he sent a message saying he was stuck at work.
“Take a taxi, I’ll cover it,” he wrote.
Elena felt a twinge of disappointment but didn’t let it show. Sergey had always worked a lot—especially since his promotion to department manager. Late nights, business trips, urgent calls—after three years of marriage, she had grown used to all of it.
After picking up her luggage, Elena headed for the exit. The September evening greeted her with a damp, cutting wind and a fine drizzle. After the Turkish sun, the contrast was so sharp it made her shiver. She caught a taxi, gave the address, leaned back in the seat, and closed her eyes. Exhaustion from the flight washed over her—sleep tugged at her relentlessly.
When the car pulled up to her building, Elena paid and stepped out, struggling to drag the heavy suitcase after her. The driver drove off, leaving her standing under the misty rain, staring at the familiar windows. A light was on in the kitchen, and shadows danced across the curtains.
Was Sergey already home? That was odd—he’d said he’d be late for hours.
Elena entered the building, wrestled the suitcase into the elevator, and went up to the sixth floor. At the door to her own apartment, an inexplicable sense of unease suddenly crept over her. Voices drifted from inside—a woman’s voice and a child’s.
Had she imagined it?
She froze and listened.
No. A woman was speaking softly, and a child laughed brightly.
Elena slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened, and the smell of fried potatoes hit her. Normally warm and comforting, it now felt чужим—foreign and out of place.
“Sergey, it’s me!” Elena called, rolling the suitcase into the hallway.
The voices from the kitchen fell silent. A second of stillness followed, then hurried footsteps. A woman around thirty-five appeared in the corridor—thin, with short chestnut hair and a face that seemed oddly familiar. Behind her hovered a girl of about ten, her mother’s exact double.
“Oh,” the woman froze, wiping her hands on a towel. “You… you’re back already?”
Elena stared at the stranger, trying to make sense of what was happening. Meanwhile, the woman looked as though she had every right to be there—in Elena’s apron, holding Elena’s towel, standing in Elena’s apartment.
“Yes, I’m back,” Elena said slowly. “And who are you?”
The woman smiled nervously.
“I’m sorry—I thought Sergey had warned you. I’m Natalia, his ex-wife. And this is Alice, our daughter.”
The ground seemed to slip from under Elena’s feet. Ex-wife? Daughter?
Sergey had never mentioned a child. He’d only said he’d been married once and divorced quickly, without details. And now this woman and her child were standing in Elena’s kitchen as if that were perfectly normal.
“What are you doing in my apartment?” Elena asked, trying to sound calm, though her voice trembled.
“You see,” Natalia lowered her eyes, “we’ve had housing problems. The neighbors upstairs flooded us—it needs major repairs. Sergey suggested we stay here while you were on vacation. He said he’d talk to you…”
“He didn’t,” Elena cut in sharply. “Not a word.”
Natalia looked helplessly from Elena to her daughter and back. The girl tugged at her sleeve, whispering something.
“Mom, I told you Uncle Sergey lied,” the girl said loudly enough to be heard.
“Alice, hush,” Natalia scolded her gently, then turned to Elena. “I understand how shocking this must be. I’d feel the same. But Sergey really promised everything was settled. He said you didn’t mind, that he’d discussed it with you.”
“Where is he now?” Elena interrupted, pulling out her phone.
“At work,” Natalia replied. “He should be back soon.”
Elena dialed her husband’s number. Ringing… then his voice:
“Yes, Lena?”
“Can you explain why your ex-wife and child are living in our apartment?” she asked, forcing herself to stay composed.
Silence hung on the line.
“Damn,” Sergey finally exhaled. “You’re already home? I thought you’d be delayed at the airport… I have an urgent meeting right now. I was going to come back earlier and explain everything.”
“Explain it now,” Elena demanded.
“Lena, it’s complicated over the phone. Natasha’s place was flooded, she and Alice had nowhere to go. It’s just for a couple of weeks until the repairs are done. I couldn’t say no—you understand that.”
“I don’t understand why you never told me. And why I’m only now finding out you have a daughter!”
“I was going to tell you… at the right moment.”
“In three years you never found one?”
Sergey sighed heavily.
“Let’s not do this over the phone. I’ll be there soon, I’ll explain everything. Please, Lena, don’t jump to conclusions.”
Elena hung up without saying goodbye. She felt betrayed, deceived. Three years of marriage, and such a fundamental part of her husband’s life had been hidden from her. And now these people were in her home, using her things, as if they had every right.
Natalia was still standing in the hallway, biting her lip.
“Listen,” she said softly, “I understand how this looks. But Sergey assured me everything was agreed with you.”
“Did you know I had no idea your daughter even existed?” Elena asked bluntly.
Natalia raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“What do you mean—you didn’t know? Sergey visits Alice regularly, pays child support, takes her on weekends…”
“Takes her on weekends?” Elena felt anger boiling up. “Where does he take her? He’s never brought her here!”
“Of course not,” Natalia shrugged. “He said you were against him having contact with his child from his first marriage. So they meet in cafés or go to the park.”
Elena closed her eyes. The world suddenly felt hostile and unfamiliar. Sergey had lied to her for years. And apparently lied to his ex-wife too, painting Elena as some heartless woman who didn’t want to see his daughter.
“I was never against it,” Elena said quietly. “I just didn’t know.”
Understanding—and then sympathy—flickered in Natalia’s eyes.
“It seems we were both deceived,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry. We’ll pack our things and leave immediately.”
“Where will you go?” Elena asked, suddenly feeling not only anger but pity for the woman and her child. “It’s late.”
“We’ll find a hotel,” Natalia replied. “Don’t worry about us.”
The girl, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke:
“Mom, I don’t want to go to a hotel. It’s scary there.”
Natalia stroked her hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll manage for the night.”
Elena looked at them—the exhausted woman and the frightened child—and couldn’t bring herself to throw them out at night. Whatever was happening between her and Sergey, these two weren’t to blame for his lies.
“Stay,” she said at last. “Just for tonight. We’ll sort things out tomorrow.”
Natalia let out a relieved breath.
“Thank you. I swear we won’t cause any trouble.”
“Did you already make dinner?” Elena asked, nodding toward the kitchen.
“Yes—potatoes and cutlets. Nothing fancy.”
“Then let’s eat and talk later. I’ve had a long trip and I’m exhausted.”
The three of them sat at the table in tense silence. Alice kept stealing glances at Elena, and Elena couldn’t help noticing how much the girl resembled Sergey—the same gray eyes, the same mouth. How could she not have known this child existed? How had Sergey managed to hide something so important?
“It’s good,” Elena finally said. “You cook well.”
“Thank you,” Natalia smiled faintly. “Sergey always liked my potatoes.”
The words lingered in the air, reminding Elena that this woman had known her husband far longer—and perhaps better—than she ever had.
“How long were you married?” Elena asked, surprised by her own calm.
“Seven years,” Natalia replied. “We married right after college and divorced when Alice was five.”
“Why?”
Natalia glanced at her daughter.
“Alice, go watch cartoons in the room.”
The girl reluctantly climbed down from the chair and left the kitchen. Natalia waited until the door closed.
“Sergey cheated on me,” she said quietly. “With a coworker. I found out by accident—caught them together. I couldn’t forgive him, even though he swore it was only once.”
A lump rose in Elena’s throat. The story felt painfully familiar. She and Sergey had also met at work, when he was still officially married—though he’d insisted the divorce was imminent.
“You met him at his company, didn’t you?” Natalia asked, studying Elena closely.
Elena nodded.
“I thought so,” Natalia said sadly. “He always had a thing for coworkers. Said he had more in common with them.”
Elena pushed her plate away. Her appetite was gone.
“Why are you here now?” she asked. “After all these years. Why did he let you into our apartment?”
Natalia shrugged.
“He offered himself. I would never have asked. We only communicate because of Alice, and even that is minimal. But when the flood happened, he suddenly stepped in and said you had a spare room…”
“A spare room?” Elena repeated. “In our two-bedroom apartment?”
“He said you lived in a three-bedroom place. That one bedroom was always empty.”
Elena let out a bitter laugh.
“He lied. We have two rooms—a bedroom and a living room. I guess he planned for you to sleep in the living room.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” Natalia nodded. “Alice and I are on the couch. Sergey said it was fine.”
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Both women exchanged a glance. Elena stood up and went to open the door. Sergey stood there—disheveled, wearing a guilty smile and holding a bouquet of flowers.
“Lena, my love, I can explain everything,” he began.
Elena stepped aside silently, letting him in. Sergey entered the hallway, cast a cautious glance toward the kitchen where Natalia sat.
“Hi,” he nodded to his ex-wife. “How’s Alice?”
“She’s watching cartoons,” Natalia replied. “I assume you and your wife want to talk privately. I’ll go to her.”
She left the kitchen, leaving Sergey and Elena alone. He placed the flowers on the table and turned to his wife.
“Lena, I know how this looks. But I had no choice. Natasha was flooded, she and Alice had nowhere to stay. I couldn’t leave my child without a roof over her head.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?” Elena asked, looking straight into his eyes. “Not once in three years.”
Sergey lowered his gaze.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t understand. That it would complicate everything. We were so happy—I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“So instead you lied to me every day,” Elena said quietly. “Every weekend you claimed you were working late or seeing friends—you were with your daughter?”
“Not always,” he shook his head. “Sometimes I really was working. But yes, I often saw Alice. She’s my daughter—I couldn’t abandon her.”
“And no one ever asked you to!” Elena cried. “I would have understood. I would have accepted her. You never even gave me a chance!”
Sergey sank into a chair, exhausted.
“I got tangled in my lies. First I didn’t tell you, then it felt too late. And then… I was afraid you’d find out not just about Alice, but that I still communicate with Natasha.”
“In what sense—communicate?” Elena felt cold spread inside her.
“Not what you’re thinking,” Sergey hurried to say. “We’re just Alice’s parents. Sometimes we have to discuss things—school, health, stuff like that.”
“And for that you moved her into our apartment while I was gone?” Elena shook her head. “I don’t believe that’s all.”
Sergey stayed silent, avoiding her gaze. Elena suddenly realized she didn’t even care anymore. The exhaustion, the shock, the endless lies—it all drained her. She just wanted the day to end.
“You know what,” she said, standing up, “I don’t want to discuss this now. I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Where?” Sergey asked. “Natasha and Alice are on the couch in the living room. Maybe we should go to a hotel?”
“We?” Elena gave a bitter smile. “No, Sergey. You’ll stay here—with your ex-wife and your daughter. I’m going to my mother’s. I need to think about whether I even want to continue this marriage.”
She went into the bedroom, pulled a bag from the closet, and began packing the essentials. Sergey followed her.
“Lena, don’t go,” he grabbed her hand. “Let’s talk it through. I love you—you know that.”
“I don’t know what I know anymore,” she freed her hand. “You lied to me for three years. Hid your daughter. And now I come back from vacation to find your ex-wife running my house. How am I supposed to trust you after that?”
There was a cautious knock on the bedroom door. Natalia peeked in.
“I’m sorry to interfere, but I heard everything. And I want to say—we’ll leave right now. I don’t want to destroy your family.”
“It’s too late,” Elena zipped her bag. “It’s already destroyed.”
“Where will you go at this hour?” Sergey turned to his ex-wife. “With a child?”
“We’ll find a hotel,” Natalia shrugged. “We’ve done it before.”
“No,” Elena suddenly said. “Stay. I’ll go to my mom’s. You and Sergey can calmly discuss your… relationship.”
She slung the bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. Sergey followed, trying to explain, apologize, stop her. Elena no longer listened. All she wanted was silence—and time to process what had happened.
At the door, she stopped and turned to him.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Or the day after. When I’m ready to talk.”
Stepping out of the apartment, Elena took a deep breath. Despite the pain and betrayal, she felt strangely light. She understood that this wasn’t the end of the world. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it was bitter. But now she knew the truth. And the truth, however painful, was freeing.
As the elevator descended, she dialed her mother’s number. She needed to warn her she was coming—and to tell everything from the beginning: about her husband’s secret daughter, his lies, the bizarre situation with his ex-wife. Her mother always knew how to listen and support without judgment. That was exactly what Elena needed now.
Outside, she raised the collar of her jacket. The rain had nearly stopped, but the wind was still damp and biting. This was not at all how she had imagined returning from vacation. Instead of a cozy evening on the couch—conflict, revelations, and a night at her mother’s. But maybe that was for the best. Sometimes life shatters our plans to show us a truth we don’t want to see.
Elena caught a taxi and gave her mother’s address. Tomorrow would be a new day. And perhaps the beginning of a new life—without lies and secrets. No matter how painful it was now, she knew she would get through it. After all, the truth is always better than the most beautiful lie.