After two grueling months away from home, spent at my father’s bedside, I finally returned… and heard someone open my lock with a key.
A young woman entered the apartment as if she were the mistress of the place. When I asked for an explanation, her answer left me cold:
Advertisements
– Mikhail gave me the key.
After spending two months in the hospital with my mother while she cared for my father, I dreamed of only one thing: falling into my bed.
But as I entered the apartment, I realized something was wrong.
There was a strange smell in the air. Too sweet. It wasn’t my usual lavender and vanilla air freshener.
I tried to ignore it, thinking I’d simply lost touch with home or was too accustomed to the sterile smell of a hospital.
My muscles ached from countless nights spent on the hard chair next to the hospital bed, watching my father’s chest slowly rise and fall to the rhythmic beeping of the machines. They reminded me how fragile life is.
Mom insisted I go home and get a good rest. “If you fall, you won’t be able to help anyone,” she said, literally pushing me out the door.
I took the first plane ticket and arrived home just in time for breakfast.
Michael greeted me at the door with a warm hug and a million questions about Dad.
“I’ll tell you everything, but first, shower,” I replied.
As soon as I entered the bathroom, the strange, sweet scent enveloped me again.
I decided to ask Mikhail about it later and stood under the hot water.
I washed off the hospital smell and the tiredness of the long flight and tried to relax.
I threw on a fluffy bathrobe and headed out into the hallway. As I headed toward the kitchen, I heard the familiar click of a key turning in the lock.
My heart sank.
Michael was preparing breakfast. So who else could have joined me?
I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on, a carved wooden horse statue (as if it could protect me), and froze, staring at the front door.
The woman entered as if she were the mistress of the place.
Young, stunningly beautiful, with the perfect hairstyle that I couldn’t achieve even in three hours at the hairdresser. Her designer bag probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
She didn’t look around, didn’t prow, and didn’t seem suspicious. No, she walked in as if she felt more comfortable there than I did.
When she noticed me, she froze.
Her face showed surprise at first, then suspicion.
–And who are you? – Her voice could cut glass.
I gripped my robe tighter and suddenly realized I was practically naked, while she looked like she was on the cover of a magazine.
–Excuse me, what? I live here. And who are YOU?
She tilted her head and studied me as if I were an incomprehensible painting.
–I’ve never seen you before.
“I’ve been away for two months,” my voice trembled with anger. The wooden horse trembled in my hand, and I put it down feeling stupid. – Who gave you the key to MY apartment?
“Mikhail,” she answered without hesitation. – He said I could come whenever I wanted. To make myself at home.
She waved her hand casually, as if showing off her own home.
The world shook beneath my feet.
Michael. My husband. The man I’ve missed so much. The one I trusted. The one I defended for years from my suspicious mother.
The same husband who only visited me twice in the hospital in two months, citing his work as the reason each time.
I took a deep breath.
—Now that I—his WIFE—have returned, you obviously can’t do that anymore.
—Wife?—Her lips glimmered slightly in the hallway light.—He said he was free… Well, I guess it’s time for me to go.
She turned toward the door, leaving a trail of expensive perfume behind her.
Thoughts exploded in my head.
That sweet aroma…
That smell has haunted me ever since I returned.
That woman was here. Lived here. She walked around my apartment. She used my things, breathed my air while I spent sleepless nights in my hospital bed. While I watched my father fight for his life, she felt like the mistress of my house.
No, wait! My voice sounded louder than expected. Come with me.
We went into the kitchen.
Mikhail was sitting at the table like a normal morning, drinking coffee and scrolling through his phone.
Steam rose from his favorite mug, which I’d given him for our first anniversary. He looked so calm, as if nothing unusual had happened.
The woman frowned and looked from him to me.
Her confidence wavered for the first time.
—And who is this?
Michael raised his head and smiled broadly.
—Oh, early morning guests! Good morning! I’m Mikhail. And you?
He put down his phone and looked at us curiously.
I was ready to strangle him.
“The woman who opened our door with a key,” I said tersely, watching his face.
A look of genuine confusion appeared on his face.
He froze, holding the mug halfway to his mouth.
—Wait… WHAT?
The woman stared at him and shook her head.
“This isn’t my Mikhail… I… I don’t understand what’s going on, but Mikhail—my Mikhail—gave me the key. I was here. I can prove it.”
I dropped my perfume bottle in the bathroom and a piece of tile broke off.
“I felt that the whole time…” I murmured.
Now everything fit together.
Mikhail and I exchanged glances.
“Show us a photo of your ‘Mikhail,'” I demanded, crossing my arms.
She hesitated, then pulled out her phone.
A few flicks of her fingers and she turned the screen toward us.
My jaw dropped.
All the pieces fit together to form a nightmarish puzzle.
—Jacob?!—I turned sharply to Mikhail. —Your 24-year-old, good-for-nothing younger brother?!
The same brother who “borrowed” money from us three times and never gave it back a penny.
Michael groaned and rubbed his temples.
-Yes… I let him in here while I was on a business trip. He gave me the key and asked me not to touch anything. He… he must have brought her here. He lied about everything. And to her. And to you too.
The woman crossed her arms.
-I thought it was strange that such a young guy lived in an apartment like this…
I clenched my fists.
-While I was taking care of my sick father, your brother created a “homey atmosphere” here?!
Mikhail sighed guiltily.
-You’re right. I had to check everything…
I took out my phone.
-I know everything, Yakov. And she reported the break-in to the police. Guess whose name I said?
There was a tense pause on the other end of the line.
“W-what?…” Yakov’s voice trembled.
I continued calmly:
–And by the way, the girl you cheated on? She also filed a complaint against you. For fraud. You claimed to be the owner of property that didn’t belong to you.
Mikhail grinned and pointed to the phone. I switched to speakerphone.
“Oh, and one more thing, Yakov,” Mikhail added. – Your parents will soon find out what an “honest” person you are.
A panicked groan came from the other end.
– No, no, don’t tell them! I just… just… What happened to me?! Look, I’ll fix everything! Just don’t!
I smiled coldly:
– It’ll take a long time to fix this. In the meantime, listen carefully.
Mikhail and I made it clear: he will NEVER get the keys, the money, or a second chance.
I ended the conversation and turned around, saying to Mikhail:
Now let’s change the locks.