Seven years. For seven years I’ve lived in this apartment, for seven years I’ve woken up next to Anton, for seven years I’ve put up with his mother’s barbs. For seven years I’ve heard the same thing: “You came from your backwater and settled yourself right into a ready-made little nest.” Valentina Petrovna never misses … Read more
He was terrified he wouldn’t recognize her. Fifteen years is no joke. It’s a whole life squeezed into the gap between yesterday and today. The last time Artyom had seen Lika they were both fifteen—two angular, half-childish creatures trembling with unspoken feelings and hormones. Now they were thirty. He was a successful co-owner of a … Read more
The doors of the operating room swung open with a soft, damp sigh, releasing him into the sterile cool of the corridor. Lev Vyshinsky staggered out, swaying like the last drunk at the edge of town. He leaned against the cold, rough wall, feeling his hands—bandaged in exhaustion—betray him with a tremble, and his legs … Read more
Svetlana froze at the sink, a glass of water suspended in her hand. The sentence hung in the kitchen air so unexpectedly that at first it seemed like Sergey was joking. But her husband stood in the middle of the room with an absolutely serious face, waiting for a reaction. She was an engineer in … Read more
A two-story brick house on Sadovaya Street came to Irina from her aunt, Margarita Petrovna, under a deed of gift even before she married. A six-hundred-square-meter plot, fruit trees in the yard, a private well, a garage—true wealth for a twenty-seven-year-old woman. The papers were executed with a notary in the spring of last year; … Read more
Lena remembered the day Igor came home with a broad smile and a bottle of champagne in his hands. It was four years ago, when they still laughed together in the kitchen, when he still kissed her in the mornings before work, when she still believed they were a couple and not a master and … Read more
Rita turned off the engine and looked at the country house through the windshield. Nothing seemed to have changed—the same blue roof, the same birches around the perimeter of the plot, the same gate her father had once painted green. The only odd thing was that the veranda light was on. Maybe the neighbors? Except…the … Read more
“Eh, Anya, you’re rushing into marriage for nothing! You couldn’t wait for me… And you yourself once promised: when I grow up—we’ll get married. Fine then, I don’t wish you anything good! I even hope nothing works out for you—you’ll split up as soon as possible! Better yet—let him just die, and Anya will be … Read more