I woke up the next morning feeling restless. The air in the apartment seemed heavier than usual, and the tension between Vadim and me was palpable. The coffee incident from the previous night had left me uneasy, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
I glanced at the kitchen, where Vadim was already preparing coffee as if nothing had happened. His movements were slow, almost too casual. It made me sick to think that he might have been playing me all this time.
I was determined to get to the bottom of it. As he poured the coffee, I feigned sleep and pretended to be exhausted from work. Vadim smiled, thinking that I was still under his spell, and set the cup next to me on the nightstand. He kissed my forehead and told me to rest, adding that he would handle everything.
Once he was out of the room, I quickly poured the coffee into a plant pot on the windowsill. It was then that I heard him return, and before I could act, I quickly laid back down and closed my eyes. I could hear him moving around the apartment, the sound of footsteps echoing in the silence.
My heart raced as I waited, trying to steady my breathing. I needed to know what was happening. I had to know if my suspicions about the sleeping pills were true.
Minutes passed, but Vadim’s footsteps were still audible. Then, I heard him make another call, his voice muffled but unmistakably concerned. He was speaking to someone, asking if the plan was still on track. His tone was anxious, not the usual calm and collected one I had come to know.
That was when the truth hit me like a ton of bricks.
He wasn’t just trying to sedate me for a few hours of rest. Vadim was working with someone — someone I couldn’t trust. And worse yet, he had been plotting behind my back for much longer than I had imagined.
I sat up slowly, pretending to still be groggy. My eyes were wide open now, and I was ready to confront him. Vadim entered the room with a fake smile on his face, but the moment he saw me sitting up, he froze. The tension was palpable. His eyes darted nervously, avoiding mine.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, though I could hear the shakiness in his voice.
I didn’t answer him directly. Instead, I asked, “Vadim, what’s really going on? What’s happening with the apartment? And why have you been acting so strange lately?”
His face paled, and his lips trembled. For the first time in our marriage, he seemed unsure of himself. He tried to calm me down with empty words, but I could see the cracks forming in his facade.
I pressed on, “What did you mean last night when you said ‘we need to come up with something else’?”
Vadim’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, I saw the guilt behind them. He wasn’t the man I thought I knew. The man standing before me wasn’t my husband anymore — he was someone I didn’t recognize, someone who had betrayed me in the worst way possible.
Without waiting for him to answer, I stood up and walked toward the living room. There, on the coffee table, was a folder with papers sticking out. I opened it without hesitation and saw the documents that would prove everything. It was a sale agreement for the apartment, listing my name and a price that made my blood run cold.
Vadim had been planning to sell our home, our life, all while feeding me sleeping pills to keep me unaware. The betrayal stung, and my heart shattered.
I turned to face him, holding up the papers. “You were going to sell the apartment, weren’t you? You and your mother… planning behind my back, using me like a pawn.”
Vadim’s face crumbled, and he sank to his knees, his hands shaking. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I… I was desperate, Valya. The debts, the pressure, I thought this would fix everything. But I never meant to hurt you.”
It was too late for apologies. The man I had once loved, the man I had trusted with everything, was gone. All that was left was a stranger who had manipulated and lied to me for far too long.
But as I stood there, I realized that this was my moment of liberation. I no longer had to accept his lies, his manipulation, and the toxic environment he had created. This was my life, and I was going to take it back.
I picked up the phone and dialed a lawyer’s number. It was time to take action.