The Unexpected Reunion That Changed Everything
“Vadimka, I have fantastic news for you!” Svetlana exclaimed, standing before the mirror as she carefully applied mascara to her eyelashes. Her eyes shimmered with excitement, and her lips curved into a satisfied smile. She glanced at her reflection as if affirming she looked like a queen ready to issue an important royal decree.
“Tomorrow evening, my mother is coming over. Your mission is to bring the apartment to perfect order! Not a single cobweb should linger in the corners! Imagine that Queen Elizabeth herself is visiting, and then you’ll understand how impeccably you need to clean!”
Pausing to relish the impact of her words, Svetlana continued as if commanding an army before battle:
“I’m heading to my manicurist now, and maybe later I’ll go to the spa with my friend Lucy or just hang out at her place. We haven’t seen each other for ages, and we have so much to talk about — especially girl talk. So, the cleaning is on you. I’ll be back in about six hours. Do your best — my mother notices everything! Once she spotted a speck of dust on the fridge even though I’d wiped it just a week ago! So, please don’t let her down. It’s better to overdo it than to get lectured afterward.”
Hearing this, Vadim frowned. His eyebrows knitted above his eyes, and he muttered under his breath in barely disguised annoyance:
“Svetlana, do you realize what you just said? It’s your mother who’s coming, not mine. Shouldn’t you be the one cleaning then? Or am I now supposed to play housekeeper in your family dynamics?”
He paused, digesting the situation. On one side, there was the mother-in-law; on another, the cleaning; and on a third, his own plans for the evening — which, admittedly, were nonexistent but he desperately wanted an excuse to escape. Marrying hadn’t come with signing a cleaning contract. That simply didn’t fit his idea of marital duties.
Vadim was well aware that his mother-in-law had keen eyes and an inquisitor’s heart. If she spotted the slightest dust particle or a loosely closed detergent cap, her nagging would echo loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Ironically, while she struggled to read medicine labels at the store, she detected dust in the most inaccessible spots of the house where the vacuum cleaner had never ventured.
Already, Vadim was considering escape routes. Maybe a taxi ride? He had used that trick before when his mother-in-law visited unexpectedly. But times had changed, and without permission, leaving was impossible. Thus, the cleaning was inevitable.
He sighed deeply and glanced at his wife. Svetlana looked at him as though poised to give a verbal exam in husbandly etiquette. If her gaze could kill, Vadim would have been under the white sheets by now.
“If you refuse to clean now,” she began, clutching her makeup brushes like weapons, “then I might cancel my meeting with Lucy. Just imagine— I’ll be upset, in a bad mood, and then, dear, you’ll be cleaning under my strict supervision. Every speck of dust will be gone; every shelf wiped. And don’t even think about objecting.”
Svetlana knew how to apply pressure so that even the most headstrong men would surrender. A chill ran down Vadim’s spine. He realized that if he argued, he would regret it for days. His wife was a master at philosophical attacks. She could prove that the sun revolved around the Earth if she set her mind to it.
“Come on, darling. Don’t deny yourself the pleasure,” he said, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. “And don’t worry about the apartment — I’ll handle it. I promise it will be sparkling clean before you return. Even your mother will be impressed.”
Svetlana beamed as if she had won a long-awaited victory, then continued her makeup in silence. She knew well: it was unwise to praise a man prematurely; he might get too confident. Besides, why thank him for what should be part of his duties? He was a husband now, not a guest in the house.
Meanwhile, Vadim was plotting a cleverer plan. He had some savings Svetlana didn’t know about. Now seemed the right moment to use them. He had no intention of cleaning himself. No way! He would gladly pay someone else to do it.
The idea of a cleaning service seemed brilliant. He called the first company he found:
“I need an urgent call! A woman must come as soon as possible!” he almost pleaded.
After a brief conversation, the operator replied:
“The earliest available time is 7 p.m. Will that work?”
“Seven? I need it right now! This is a matter of life and death!” Vadim begged. “Do you have a male cleaner?”
“Our men work on heavy-duty sites; none are available for home cleaning,” she answered.
Disappointed, Vadim called other companies, but the prices for urgent service were shocking. The money he planned to save would vanish paying the fees. The idea collapsed like a house of cards.
He sighed heavily, imagining himself scrubbing floors and wiping windows. Life was playing an unkind joke on him.
Suddenly, the phone rang. It was the first company:
“Young man, a cleaner became available. We can send her right now.”
“Of course! Please come quickly!” Vadim rejoiced like a child gifted with ice cream.
He poured himself coffee, settled on the sofa, and prepared to relax. Let others work; he would enjoy a brief respite. Social media was out of the question — Svetlana might check his browsing history — but a movie seemed acceptable.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Vadim hurried to open it and froze. Standing there was Marina — the very girl he had cruelly rejected at university. She had once gifted him postcards and knit scarves, while he ridiculed her before the entire class. Now she smiled knowingly as if she anticipated an interesting evening.
In one hand, Marina held a powerful, shiny vacuum cleaner resembling a new tank; in the other, a bag neatly packed with cleaning supplies, arranged like surgical tools before an operation. Her movements were precise and confident, as if she were not just a cleaner but the true queen of comfort. Over the years, she had become even more beautiful. Yet, oddly enough, some things stayed the same — toilets still remained her faithful allies.
“What kind of people leave their homes unguarded!” Vadim said with irony, hiding his embarrassment. “Don’t stand in the doorway — come in, like an honored guest!”
“Hello, Vadim,” Marina greeted, entering the apartment with the ease of someone confident in herself and her skills. “So, where shall we start?”
“It feels awkward to direct you,” Vadim muttered, feeling an unfamiliar surge of anxiety. “Didn’t expect to see a familiar face… Would you like some coffee? Or tea?”
“Sorry, I’m working. No time for tea or coffee. The sooner I finish, the sooner I’m free,” Marina answered, avoiding conversation.
“Look at you, so busy now,” Vadim said with mild envy. “Not surprised though. With this job, I bet you count every minute. You must want to rest, right? You decide where to begin. I placed the order, said cleaning was needed, so you pick what’s best for you.”
Marina immediately got to work. She wasted no time on reminiscing or questions about their lives. The past was a closed book—unworthy of rereading. She moved through the apartment with the agility of an athlete, as if performing a dance rather than cleaning.
Vadim stood aside, unable to take his eyes off her slender figure. She had grown even more beautiful and self-assured. His wife, despite all her virtues, simply paled in comparison. Why hadn’t he appreciated her back then? If he had known how painful the present would be, he would never have pushed her away.
“Marina, why do you seem like a stranger?” he tried to spark conversation. “Tell me, how’s life? What do you do now? Are you happy?”
Suddenly, a wave of shame overtook him. He remembered the university day when he mocked her before everyone after she gave him a scarf made with care. “You clean toilets with those hands and yet knitted this scarf? No, dear. We aren’t a match. Look where I am and where you are! Your destiny is scrubbing toilets; mine is sitting in a director’s chair.” These harsh words, cast so cruelly back then, now returned like a thunderous boomerang.
“I’m doing well. Life is good; I have no complaints,” Marina replied calmly while continuing her work.
“Are you married yet?”
Vadim didn’t understand why this question troubled him so much. He wanted to hear she was free — that she still waited for someone, maybe even him. That somewhere in her heart, she still remembered him and the admiration she once felt.
“Not yet, but soon. How about you? Married?”
The indifferent tone suggested she wasn’t particularly interested. She asked out of politeness, to avoid awkward silence. It stung Vadim. He expected a flicker of curiosity about his life, but her gaze was calm, cold, even somewhat indifferent. He knew that changing his wife was impossible — Svetlana would tear him apart. Yet, he longed to feel needed and wanted, if only for a moment.
“Well, I… how can I say…” he hesitated but didn’t finish.
“Oh, there are panties lying near the bed. Should I put them in the laundry or the closet?” Marina lifted Svetlana’s underwear lightly with two fingers, and Vadim’s embarrassment deepened.
“I’ll do it myself!” he muttered, blushing, grabbed the item, and headed to the laundry basket.
The conversation didn’t resume afterward. Marina focused fully on cleaning, disregarding his presence as mere background noise. It hurt, but Vadim couldn’t show it.
To provoke some reaction, he teased her:
“Remember what I said? I told you your destiny was scrubbing toilets. And here you are, still doing just that.”
“You saw right through it. You can’t run from destiny,” Marina nodded calmly without raising her eyes.
Inside, Vadim felt something break. Had his words not affected her? Did he mean nothing to her? Hurt swelled within him, constricting his breath. He merely chuckled, realizing he couldn’t prove anything.
When Marina finished, she removed her gloves, wiped her hands, and smiled:
“Here’s the job, boss. That’ll be five thousand three hundred and fifty rubles.”
Vadim pulled out five and a half thousand from his pocket and offered it with a pleased grin:
“Keep the change for tea. I bet you don’t get to eat much with this job, so slim as you are.”
Marina carefully placed the money in her pocket and shrugged:
“Looks like you’ve become generous.”
Her words felt like a compliment, and Vadim smiled, feeling old feelings stir. He didn’t want her to leave. He wished to see her off, chat, learn something new — anything.
“Wait, I’ll take out the trash and walk with you, maybe see you off at the bus stop,” he offered.
“No need; I came by car,” Marina politely declined.
“Still driving that old Lada?” Vadim teased.
“You could say that,” she shrugged.
Nevertheless, Vadim went outside with her. He wanted to stretch the meeting, even if just by a few minutes. When Marina pressed the car remote button, a large SUV’s headlights lit up nearby, and Vadim gasped in surprise:
“Is that your car?”
“Yes,” Marina nodded, skillfully loading her tools into the trunk. She shed her work overalls, now appearing in shorts and a light top — no longer a cleaner but a model from an advertisement. Vadim struggled to hide his sigh. He longed to leave Svetlana, divorce her, and take Marina away with him. Yet, she looked at him like the past — something left behind.
“Is that how you earned money cleaning toilets?”
“Try cleaning them yourself, then you’ll know,” Marina smiled. “Sorry, my fiancé is waiting at home. I didn’t plan to stay long. Nice seeing an old friend. Good luck!”
Vadim watched her drive away, feeling something inside shift. Back in the apartment, he grabbed his phone and called the cleaning company:
“Hello, I want to know who cleaned my place today?”
“That was Marina Arkadyevna, the owner of our agency. She kindly accepted the urgent order. Did you want to leave a message?”
“No, thank you,” he replied.
He hung up and eyed the trash bag in his hand. So, Marina—the girl he once scorned—had scrubbed toilets, earned a luxury car, while he, dreaming of a director’s chair, still cleaned up after his wife. With a heavy sigh, Vadim headed to the dumpster, wishing he could turn back time and change everything. But such chances were gone.
In summary, this story reveals the bitter consequences of harsh words and underestimating others. Vadim’s journey from arrogance to regret highlights how pride can blind us to true worth and opportunities for growth. Ultimately, humility and respect pave the way toward reconciliation and self-awareness.