Lyud, you understand…” Volodya began. “No, I love you, but you look so much like her and… I’m confused.”
She suspected that he might be cheating on her, but she could never have guessed with whom. It was some kind of madhouse. It just didn’t add up.
“Don’t, don’t explain,” she said, suddenly feeling indifferent about what would happen next. She couldn’t stay in the apartment with two people who had betrayed her. “I’ll come back for my things later, okay? I need to be alone.”
“What’s frozen? What are we going to do? Soon Lyudka will arrive, and it’ll look suspicious to everyone.”
“How am I supposed to know what to do? First, get dressed!”
They stood in the middle of the apartment, staring at each other in bewilderment, not knowing what to grab first. Should they make the bed? Hide the traces of a romantic evening? Gather the belongings that shouldn’t be there?
It was useless. Ten minutes. In that time, it was impossible to cover up the traces. The only option was to dignifiedly greet the mistress of the apartment, who had returned at the wrong time, and calmly explain what was happening. But first, she had to get dressed.
Two weeks ago, Lyudmila had kissed her husband goodbye and flown off to Crimea for a vacation to visit a friend. She had been looking forward to the warm sea, the scorching sun, fruits, and the long evening chats with her friend—something she had sorely missed since her move.
Only one thing had marred her pure joy: at the last minute, her husband was handed some sudden, extremely urgent, but very lucrative project. She hadn’t really understood the project, but it had somehow prevented Volodya from going on vacation with her.
Volodya tried to console her, saying that perhaps he would manage to deal with the most urgent matters within a week and then join her for the rest of the vacation. Lyudmila wanted to believe that, but… Every time urgent business held him back in Moscow, he promised to wrap things up quickly and catch up with her, and every time she ended up vacationing alone.
That wasn’t such a big problem: Lyuda was an independent, self-sufficient woman who never felt bored even when alone. She always had something to do. Besides, she had company for her vacation.
She just wished to spend more time with her husband. But what could she do, work was work. In the end, they had decided that they needed to buy a bigger apartment, and then have children. They needed to earn money for that apartment.
Nina greeted Lyuda at the airport with strawberries and an excited squeal. After hugging for a long time, they walked to the car.
“Where’s your Vovka now? It’s the second time you’ve come without him. I almost forgot what he looks like.”
“As always, work.”
Nina smirked:
“He doesn’t take care of himself at all.”
Lyudmila smiled sadly. What else could be said?
“At least no one will interrupt the evening gossip. Did you hear? Zhenya is getting divorced again, a third wife, and nothing seems right for him…”
“You’re kidding…”
The conversation gradually captivated Lyudmila, and for a while, she forgot that she had once again ended up on vacation alone.
The sunset over the sea was beautiful. The sun was diving straight into the waves, melting them, flooding everything with gold. In moments like these, Lyuda regretted that she hadn’t become an artist. It would have been wonderful to paint all of this. But there were no paints, no canvas… All she could do was take beautiful photos.
Lyuda pulled out her phone, turned on the camera, and began to adjust to the landscape. The image on the screen looked great. A finger tapped on the white circle…
The landscape was obscured by a male silhouette, hopelessly ruining the photo.
“Beautiful lady, how about I take a picture of you against the sunset?”
Lyudmila looked at the young man, her age peer—maybe about three years older—in irritation. He might have been quite handsome, but Lyuda was too upset about the ruined photo. Muttering discontentedly, she said, “No, thank you,” and went to set up a new shot.
“Why are you like that?” Nina asked her. “You’re just attractive to him, and he doesn’t know how to get your attention.”
“Not at all, Nina, not at all. I’m married, after all.”
“Remember, your husband didn’t come with you again—he’s working, you know. And now, you’re returning to Moscow without having had any rest.”
“I’m not planning to cheat on my husband!” Lyudmila declared firmly.
“Oh, come on, who’s talking about cheating? You can just have a fun time, chat with a handsome man, listen to a sea of compliments, and then go back to Moscow, charged with those compliments and glowing like a mysterious star.”
“No, that’s just too awkward.”
That whole evening, Lyudmila thought about her friend’s words. Maybe there really was nothing wrong with such casual interaction? Just chatting, going somewhere together—it wasn’t cheating. It was simply a new acquaintance, pleasant conversation.
The next day on the beach, they encountered the same man again. Seeing them, he even seemed happy—his smile, at any rate, became much wider.
After a while, he approached the ladies with three cups of iced lemonade.
“Would the ladies like to cool off?”
“Yes!” Nina replied on behalf of both, and shifted so that the new acquaintance could only sit between them. “I’m Nina, and this is Lyuda from Moscow, my friend. And you are?”
“Oh, a Muscovite? I am too. Almost. From Korolyov. I’m Max.”
Lyudmila blushed. She had hoped he would say he was from somewhere in Siberia or the Far East, so that even if the acquaintance went somewhere unwanted—if, for example, he got angry about a refusal of a closer acquaintance—they would eventually part ways, not even remembering each other. But now, they were practically neighbors.
However, Nina was already engrossed in a trivial conversation with him, which meant the communication would continue.
“I’m a programmer, working in Moscow. I came here with my brother.”
“And where is your brother?” Nina exclaimed. “Because you and Lyudka were talking about programming, and I’d be bored.”
“Are you a programmer too?” Max asked with a sincere smile. “My brother is on a tour; he doesn’t like beach holidays. Honestly, I would have gone with him too, but I was hoping to meet you on the beach.”
Nina smiled charmingly, and Lyuda blushed again. Nina gave Lyudmila a skeptical look and decided to take charge.
“What’s his name, then?”
“Andrey.”
“So, why don’t you come over to our place tonight?!” she suggested to Max. “I have my own house not far from the sea, with a gazebo, we can fire up the grill, have some shashlik. Let’s get to know each other better.”
That evening, the group indeed gathered at Nina’s house. They brought marinated meat, sausages, and fruits. Andrey immediately focused his attention on Nina, while Max lingered around Lyuda.
This embarrassed her. It felt as though she was deceiving him, promising something she wasn’t going to deliver. At one point, she couldn’t stand it any longer:
“Maxim, I want to be honest with you: my husband is waiting for me in Moscow, I love him, and I’m not going to cheat. You interest me, and I’d like to continue our acquaintance, but purely as friends.”
Max was silent for a while, then smiled enigmatically:
“You’re even better than I thought. Fine, let it be strictly friendly.”
The following week flew by. By day, Nina organized city tours for everyone, and in the evenings the guys treated the girls to various delicacies. It seemed that Nina and Andrey’s relationship had become more than serious.
For Lyuda and Max, it was a bit more complicated. In his eyes, admiration for her burned brighter each day, while Lyuda became increasingly embarrassed. Even though she undoubtedly liked Max, that fact scared her much more than his overt affection.
At one point, in a burst of passion, Max tried to kiss her. Lyuda recoiled and ran out to the porch. Then she returned:
“I thought we agreed!”
“Lyuda, I’m sorry, for heaven’s sake. I understand everything, but I can’t help myself. I think I love you: you’re bright, pure, decent, smart… I can’t list it all. I don’t know what to do. How do I restrain myself? Maybe we shouldn’t even keep in touch anymore. I just want you to know that you can always call on me for help.”
Without waiting for a reply, Max left.
Lyudmila watched him go, then glanced into the house where Nina and Andrey sat, and without even looking at them, she said, “I need to take a walk!”
For hours she wandered along the seashore, trying to settle her feelings. She only returned to her friend’s by early morning. Nina was alarmed:
“What happened? I was so worried! Did he hurt you?”
“No… He confessed his love for me.”
“Oh, come on! That’s wonderful.”
“What’s so wonderful? I’m married. I love my husband and I’m not planning to get a divorce or cheat. It turns out that I muddled Max’s head, made him fall for me, but I can’t give him anything.”
“Alright, I agree, it’s not wonderful. But it’s not terrible either. You didn’t promise him anything; in fact, you set clear boundaries right away.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You were honest with everyone, and what happens next is out of your hands.”
“You know, I think I’ll go home tomorrow. I can’t relax any longer.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not sure about anything. But I don’t want to torment him or myself. So, I’m going home—to my husband—to hold him and forget everything.”
And so, she disembarked from the plane in Moscow, got into a taxi, and headed home. The turmoil in her soul was so intense that she didn’t even realize right away that she hadn’t informed her husband of her early return. As she neared her home, she quickly texted him: “Dear, I’m back in town as a surprise! I’m in a taxi; I’ll be there in about 10 minutes.” And at that moment, Lyudmila suddenly felt at ease: she had been honest with everyone, she was blameless. Soon she would see her husband. Everything was fine.
The taxi stopped in front of her building. Lyuda grabbed her suitcase and practically flew into the entrance, frantically pressing the elevator button.
The apartment door opened almost before she could ring the bell, as if she had been expected. Well, of course they had been expected. She had given a heads-up, even if not very early. Pushing the front door open, she shouted:
“Honey, I’m home!”
She placed her suitcase in the corner, took off her shoes, and then raised her eyes.
“Mom?! What are you doing here?”
Lyudmila rushed into the room: the bed had been hastily made, on the coffee table were remnants of salads, snacks, and extinguished candles. She dashed into the bathroom. There, too, nothing was comforting: in the glass, instead of her toothbrush—the one she had taken with her—was her mother’s toothbrush; on the shelves were a heap of cosmetics for someone over 55; on a hook hung a dark silk robe, not hers. Her mother’s.
Lyuda spun around. Her husband and her mother still stood in the center of the room, their faces guilty, eyes cast downward. In Lyudmila’s mind, thoughts swirled and facts assembled: that was why he hadn’t gone on vacation with her. It wasn’t about work. No, she had even considered a couple of times that he might be spending that time with someone else—but with her own mother? It was sheer madness. It just didn’t add up.
“Lyud, you understand…” Volodya began. “No, I love you, but you look so much like her and… I’m confused.”
“Don’t, don’t explain,” she said, suddenly indifferent to what would come next. She couldn’t stay in an apartment with two people who had betrayed her. “I’ll come back for my things later, okay? I need to be alone.”
Leaving her suitcase in the hallway, Lyudmila walked out of the apartment. She had no idea where to go. Her closest friend was in Crimea, and she could fly there again, but why? And how long could she keep going back and forth? She didn’t feel like talking to anyone else.
Then, one last phrase spoken by Max surfaced in her mind: “I just want you to know that you can always call on me for help.”
Her hand automatically reached for her phone. Should she call him? What would she say? And besides, he was probably still in Crimea. Okay, she decided, she’d just send a message: “You said I could count on your help.”
She received an almost immediate reply, as if he had been waiting for her message: “Yes, of course. Anything within my power. What happened?”
“I came home at the wrong time and saw something that wasn’t meant for me.”
The reply was as succinct as could be:
“Cheated?”
“Yes, and with my mother.”
It took about five minutes for him to respond, but he finally did:
“I’m gathering my things and I’m ready to come. Where are you now?”
Her husband and her mother maintained a few days of silence, then began calling and texting Lyuda, trying to persuade her to talk. But she didn’t want anything from them anymore. That night, Max found her in some courtyard, guided by her tangled descriptions, took her to his place, treated her to tea, and put her to sleep.
Later, Lyudmila was amazed at herself—and at him. In her state, convincing someone to do anything hadn’t been difficult, yet he hadn’t said a word or even raised a finger. He cared for her so touchingly, supporting her through the divorce with her husband.
Lyuda felt that after what had happened, she would never be able to trust anyone again. But over time, Max managed to thaw her heart. And when, half a year later, he suddenly asked:
“Will you marry me?” – she unexpectedly agreed. And it turned out to be the best decision of her life.