Valentina was stirred from her slumber by an unfamiliar sound. The room was engulfed in darkness, and the clock read two-thirty. Her partner’s side of the bed was empty — Victor had stepped out for some reason.
She listened intently. A soft voice floated in from the kitchen. Her husband spoke cautiously, almost in a whisper.
“I understand it’s hard for you…”
Valentina caught his words. “But bear with me a little longer.”
Who could he possibly be talking to at this hour? She carefully rose, tiptoeing barefoot to the door. Her heart raced.
“I miss you too,”
Victor continued. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, I promise.”
Valentina froze. Throughout their thirty years of marriage, Victor had never spoken to her in such a tender tone—not for a long time at least.
“No, she doesn’t know anything,”
his voice dropped even lower. “And it’s better that way for now.”
She? Was he referring to her? Valentina pressed against the wall, her legs turning to jelly.
“I’m sorry I have to keep this from you,”
Victor sighed. “But you do understand… The situation is complicated.”
Something was said over the phone, followed by Victor’s quiet laughter. Valentina couldn’t recall the last time he had laughed like that at home.
“Alright, alright. See you, darling.”
Darling! Valentina’s breath caught in her throat. She quickly slipped back into the bedroom, diving under the covers.
Victor returned shortly after, carefully lying down, trying not to wake her. She pretended to sleep, her eyes closed, pondering who this ‘darling’ was.
Breakfast Revelations
In the morning, Victor behaved as usual. He scrolled through the news on his phone while sipping coffee.
“Did you sleep well?”
Valentina asked innocently.
“Yeah, it was fine.”
“I thought I heard someone moving around at night.”
Victor jumped, nearly spilling his coffee.
“That was me… I went to the bathroom.”
She recognized the lie immediately. After all these years, she had learned to spot his untruths.
“I thought I heard someone talking in the kitchen,”
she pressed on.
“Must have been the neighbors. Or maybe someone had their TV on.”
Another fabrication. Victor didn’t even look her in the eye.
“Vitya, is everything alright with you?”
She felt brave enough to ask directly. “You seem… different.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. You’re more silent. Seem lost in thought.”
Victor rose, placing his cup in the sink.
“Work has been stressful. I don’t want to burden you.”
He left to get ready, while Valentina sat at the kitchen table, her mind racing — something was definitely going on. Something significant.
All day, her thoughts circled back to the late-night conversation. ‘Darling… I miss you… See you tomorrow…’
Could Victor be seeing someone else? At fifty-seven years of age? After so many years of marriage?
Valentina examined her reflection in the mirror. Wrinkles, gray hair, extra weight. When had she aged so much?
Or had she simply stopped taking care of herself? Letting herself go, thinking, ‘What else could I do?’
Tears welled up in her throat. Had Victor found someone younger? More attractive?
Evening Doubts
Late that evening, Victor came home. He claimed he had been held up at work. However, he carried an unfamiliar scent, reminiscent of a woman’s perfume.
“Are you going to have dinner?”
Valentina asked.
“No, I already…”
Where had he been? With whom had he been? But she didn’t dare ask, fearing the truth.
They went to bed in silence. Victor fell asleep quickly, while Valentina lay awake, listening for any sound that might reveal his secrets.
The night passed quietly. However, the next morning, she noticed Victor frequently glancing at his phone. Reading messages and smiling.
Who was writing to him? What were they discussing?
After breakfast, Victor left for work, leaving Valentina alone with her burden of thoughts. His phone lay forgotten on the charger — he didn’t take it.
She stared at the device for a while. She had never intruded into someone else’s belongings before. But now…
With trembling hands, she picked up the phone. Unsure of the passcode, she tried their wedding date. No luck. Their daughter’s birthday didn’t work either.
Then she remembered — Victor had recently changed his password. Maybe it was something new.
After several tries, the screen unlocked on her fifth attempt.
The first message was from an unknown number. The thread was lengthy, indicating frequent communication.
“How are you? I’ve missed you,”
the latest message read, certainly from some time the day before.
“I miss you too. Just a little longer,”
Victor replied.
“When can we meet?”
“Tomorrow after work. The usual place.”
Valentina plopped down on a stool. Her hands trembled so violently that she almost dropped the phone.
As she scrolled further up the messages, her heart sank. Sweet nothings filled the conversation. “My dear,” “darling,” “kissing you tightly.”
Who was this woman? And how long had this affair lasted?
The phone vibrated — an incoming call. The same number.
In a panic, Valentina hung up, placed the phone back down, and fled to her room.
One hour later, she called her daughter.
“Anya, can you talk right now?”
“Sure, Mom. What’s up? You sound upset.”
“I… Anya, do you think Dad has changed lately?”
“In what way?”
“He seems more secretive. Quiet.”
Anya paused for a moment.
“Mom, what’s happened?”
“Nothing particular. Just a mother’s intuition.”
“Maybe you should directly talk to him? Ask him what’s wrong?”
“What if he…”
“What if what?”
Valentina couldn’t voice her suspicions aloud.
“Never mind, forget it.”
“Mom, are you sure you don’t want to share?”
“Not yet.”
Confrontation and Truth
That evening, when Victor returned home, his demeanor was grim.
“Forgot my phone at home,”
he mentioned as soon as he stepped through the door.
“Yeah, I noticed. No calls?”
Valentina lied without flinching. Victor let out a relieved breath.
“I’ll be late tomorrow,”
he announced at dinner.
“Again?”
“We have an inspection. A lot of tasks to handle.”
What inspection? Victor had worked as a lathe operator for twenty years. There hadn’t been inspections in that long.
“What time will you be home?”
“I don’t know. Late.”
Heading off to meet his ‘darling,’ she thought.
That night, Valentina found it impossible to fall asleep. She tossed and turned until morning, plotting her next moves.
Should she follow him? Discover who this woman was?
When Victor prepared to leave for work the following day, she noticed him retrieving his best shirt from the closet — the one he reserved for special occasions.
“You’re dressing nicely,”
she commented.
“We have a small corporate event at work.”
Another lie. What corporate event happens on a Wednesday?
Once he left, Valentina searched the entire apartment. In the pocket of his jacket, she found a napkin from a café, “Cozy Courtyard.” They had never been there together.
And in the drawer of his desk, she uncovered a note in a feminine handwriting: “I’m waiting for you. Don’t be late. Kisses.” And an address — Mira Street, 15.
Her heart sank. So, they were meeting at the lover’s home.
Valentina sat on the sofa, tears streaming down her face. Thirty years of marriage. Thirty years!
What’s next? Divorce? Starting over at fifty-nine?
But she had to uncover the truth. Otherwise, her heart would shatter under the weight of her suspicions.
On Saturday, Valentina followed Victor. He left home at two, claiming he was heading to a friend’s house.
She donned dark sunglasses, wrapped her scarf, and trailed him at a distance.
Victor boarded a bus downtown, and Valentina hopped on the next one, her heart racing as if it were audible to the world.
Upon reaching Mira Street, she watched Victor enter the entrance to building fifteen — the very address from the note.
Valentina waited five minutes before she followed him inside. She scanned the intercom to find the correct apartment — 23. The name “Morozova” stood out.
Who was this Morozova? Young? Divorced?
Valentina ascended to the second floor and positioned herself by the stairwell window. From here, she could see the door of apartment twenty-three.
She waited for an hour and a half. Her legs grew numb, her back ached. But knowing the truth mattered more than her discomfort.
Finally, the door opened. Victor stepped out, and behind him was… a woman around forty-five. Tall, slim, and strikingly beautiful.
“Thank you so much,”
Valentina heard her say. “I wouldn’t have managed without your help.”
“Don’t mention it,”
Victor replied. “I do this for family.”
Family? What family?
The woman embraced Victor and kissed his cheek.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll bring the documents.”
What documents? Divorce papers?
Morozova closed the door, and Victor headed toward the exit.
Valentina barely managed to hide around the corner, her tears choking her. That was it. Thirty years of marriage came to an end.
At home, she collapsed in the kitchen, sobbing. What should she do now? How to carry on?
Victor returned later that evening, cheerful.
“Had a good time with Petrovich,”
he announced.
“Yeah, it shows.”
“What do you mean it shows?”
“You look content.”
Victor grew alert.
“Val, what’s got you upset?”
“I’m not upset.”
“You are. What’s wrong?”
Valentina couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d endured in silence for thirty years, but could she keep it up now?
“I’m upset by your lies!”
“What lies?”
“You weren’t at Petrovich’s! You were with your lover on Mira Street!”
Victor paled and sat down heavily on a chair.
“You… followed me?”
“I did! What else could I do? You’re lying and hiding things, whispering to someone late at night!”
“Valya, you don’t understand…”
“I understand everything! You’ve found someone younger and prettier! And what about me — am I old and unnecessary now?”
Valentina cried and yelled, unleashing thirty years of hurt in one moment.
“Do you think I don’t see you? You’re glowing with happiness! Meeting her, and then coming home all gloomy!”
“Val, calm down. Let me explain everything.”
“What’s there to explain? I saw her kiss you!”
“Who kissed me?”
“Your Morozova! The beauty!”
Suddenly, Victor looked at his wife strangely.
“Morozova… So you know her last name?”
“I do! And what’s next? Are we getting divorced?”
Victor took a heavy breath, rubbing his face with his hands.
“Valya, sit down. Morozova is not a lover.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s… my sister.”
“What sister? You don’t have a sister!”
“I do. Lena. She got married and changed her last name.”
Valentina froze. Lena? The same Lena they had fought over inheritance twenty years ago? They hadn’t spoken since the funeral of Victor’s mother.
“Lena has come back to town,”
Victor continued. “Her husband left her, she has no money, nowhere to live. I’m helping her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What would you have done? Welcome her with open arms?”
Valentina fell silent. She wouldn’t have accepted her. She had held onto her resentment tightly.
“I’m sorry,”
Victor said quietly. “I knew you’d disapprove. That’s why I hid it.”
Valentina sat quietly, her mind swirling. Lena was Victor’s sister, not his lover.
“She’s sick,”
Victor continued. “Diabetes. The medications are pricey, and she can’t find a job. I’m helping her with paperwork for benefits.”
Valentina recalled the conversation she had overheard. “I miss you,” “darling”…
“You spoke so sweetly to her.”
“Lena is younger. I’ve always cared for her.”
“But why keep it a secret?”
Victor looked at her wearily.
“Because I know you, Val. You’re stubborn. You’ve held onto grudges for twenty years.”
Valentina wanted to argue, but she realized he was correct. She wouldn’t have allowed Lena to enter their home.
“We could have talked,”
she said softly.
“We could have. But I was a coward, afraid of your reaction.”
They both sat silently in the kitchen as darkness enveloped the outside world.
“I thought you wanted to leave me,”
Valentina confessed.
“Leave you? For Lena?”
“For some young mistress.”
Victor stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
“You’re foolish. At fifty-seven, I look for mistresses?”
“It happens.”
“It happens for others. I’m too old for that.”
Valentina nestled against him. How long had it been since he embraced her like that?
“So you aren’t cheating?”
“I’m not.”
“And you don’t plan on leaving?”
“Not at all. Where would I go without you?”
The next day, Victor welcomed Lena to their home. Valentina greeted her sister-in-law with restraint but without anger.
Lena appeared unwell. Thin, pale, and with sunken eyes.
“I’m sorry it turned out this way,”
Lena said. “I didn’t intend to put Victor in an awkward position.”
“I needed to know the truth,”
Valentina replied.
They sat together with tea, conversing cautiously, devoid of accusations.
“Do you remember how we shared candies as kids?”
Victor asked.
“You always gave me the bigger half,”
Lena smiled.
“And mom scolded me for spoiling you.”
Valentina listened, and for the first time in years, she understood — this was family. Not perfect, with its grudges and disagreements, but still family.
“Lena,”
she said, “maybe you should stay with us for now? There’s a free room.”
Lena looked at her daughter-in-law in surprise.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t intrude. It’s hard to be alone.”
Victor took Valentina’s hand, squeezing it gratefully.
That evening, when Lena left to collect her belongings, they were left alone together.
“Thank you,”
Victor said. “I didn’t expect this of you.”
“Neither did I. But I’ve realized — it’s time to stop being angry.”
“You’ve held onto that anger for twenty years.”
“I’ve been a fool. I let money ruin a family.”
Victor embraced Valentina, kissing the top of her head.
“At least you’ve learned.”
“Not learned; simply understood that suspecting my husband is one thing, but allowing a sister into the home is another.”
“What if I had been cheating?”
Valentina pondered.
“I’d probably kill you.”
“Well, that’s good. That means you still love me.”
“I do, you fool. Just next time, don’t hide anything from me. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Within a month, Lena secured a job and rented a small apartment nearby. But she visited every weekend.
Valentina no longer eavesdropped on late-night conversations or rifled through her husband’s phone. She realized that trust was worth more than jealousy.
And family turned out to be stronger than suspicion.