Katya sat nervously on the couch, her eyes tracing the flickering candlelight that danced across the room. Vadim had stormed off to the kitchen moments earlier, after his furious outburst over her innocent attempt to glance at his phone. It was such a small thing, yet his anger had seemed so out of place. They had only been married for six months, and their life had seemed like a fairy tale until now.
As she sat frozen, her mind raced. Could it be? Could Vadim be hiding something from her? The idea of an affair seemed impossible, but there it was—floating in the back of her mind like a shadow. She shook her head, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered to herself. “I just wanted to look at a few photos…”
But what if that was only the surface? What if there was more beneath the surface that she was too afraid to acknowledge?
A few moments later, Vadim returned to the living room with a tray of cherries, his demeanor suddenly calm and composed. He smiled at her, almost too cheerfully. “Here, darling, I picked the biggest ones for you,” he said, placing the tray on the table.
Katya forced a smile. “Thank you,” she murmured, still unsettled. Vadim took her hand in his, leading her toward the door.
“What are we doing tomorrow? My friends invited us over,” he said, a hint of urgency in his voice. “You always say I don’t meet your friends… it’s time to change that. Shall we go?”
“Of course, my love, with pleasure,” Katya replied, trying to mask her unease. She wanted to believe that everything was fine. That Vadim’s outburst was a one-time thing. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.
The next day, they went to their friends’ house—an evening that would only add to the confusion. Ilya and Dasha greeted them warmly, and the night unfolded like a typical social gathering. Dinner, wine, and casual conversation. But Katya couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something was off.
As they sat around the dinner table, Dasha casually asked, “So, Katya, what do you do?”
“I work in film,” Katya replied, taking a sip of wine. “I organize shoots.”
Ilya, who had been eyeing Vadim with a sly grin, chimed in, “Vadim told us so little about you. But then again, his job at the car dealership is more interesting, isn’t it?”
“Actually, I’ve been doing well,” Vadim said proudly. “Twelve cars this month. I’m on track for a nice bonus.”
As the conversation continued, Vadim shared their story of how they met, how he had fallen in love with her the moment he saw her sitting alone in a café with a book. But there was a strange undertone to his words, a possessiveness that Katya couldn’t ignore.
When the evening was over, Katya couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Honestly, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen this apartment before,” she said, glancing out the window of the taxi.
“Déjà vu,” Vadim chuckled, brushing it off. “I feel the same way sometimes.”
A month passed, and things seemed to return to normal. Katya tried to push the unsettling thoughts out of her mind, and Vadim appeared to be back to his charming self. But then, one day, everything changed.
Katya was reviewing some potential locations for shoots when she opened an email from her assistant, Vika. She froze when she saw the photos of an apartment—the very same apartment she had visited with Vadim a month ago. The living room, the décor, even the photos on the walls—everything was exactly the same.
“This can’t be,” she whispered, her mind racing. “This is the apartment where we were at Ilya and Dasha’s!”
Her heart raced as she recalled the faces of the people who had introduced themselves as the owners. Ilya and Dasha—they had seemed so friendly, so genuine. But now, as she looked at the photos in the email, a chill ran down her spine.