You know, it’s strange to wake up in the morning knowing something is going to happen.
You have no idea whether it will be good or bad; you just know there is something different in the air. That was how the Monday in February began.
I got up in the morning, made coffee, and found my husband, Robert, already sitting at the table, buried in his phone as usual. He didn’t say anything, only drummed his fingers on the table, uncomfortably.
“Viki, please listen,” he eventually pleaded. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
I nearly dropped the spoon.
– Where to?
– South. Sunshine, beach… I want to unwind a little. I had purchased the ticket.
I simply swirled the cold coffee and attempted to assemble my thoughts. We’d been saving for a vacation together for two years. We save money every month and give up a lot of things. I even held off purchasing the coat I wanted last year just so we could travel together.
– And me? My leave has not been approved yet.
“So what?” he shrugged. “Do you think it’s easy for me here?” “This greyness is making me nervous!”
Grayness… And, where are my nerves in the queue?
– But the money is shared and we collected it collectively…
“So what?” he demanded. “I work, too! I have the right to pick when to rest!”
That’s when I first became skeptical. Something has changed in recent months. He had been increasingly distant. He even carried his phone to the restroom, a departure from his previous habit of leaving it around.
I observed what he was putting in his suitcase. I had never seen him in new swimming trunks or a showy shirt, which were completely out of character for him. When did he purchase these?
“If I have any money left, I’ll get you a fridge magnet,” he remarked as he zipped the luggage shut.
A magnet. Well, thank you.
He then shut the door behind him. I was left alone. Am I overreacting? Is it feasible that he merely wants to clear his head?
But suddenly his phone, which he had placed on the table, rang. A message has come. The text was password-protected, but the preview displayed this:
“Baby, I’m already at the airport, waiting for you at…”
My kitten. He hasn’t called me that in years. He stated the nicknames are inappropriate for adults.
Ten minutes later, he returned for his phone. I saw him, his expression tight.
“What are you still doing here?”
“I am home. Is that no longer possible?
He took the device and looked at it warily, wondering if I had touched it. Then he kissed my forehead theatrically.
“Do not sulk. “I’ll bring something when I get back.”
And he departed. And I was left there with my heart beating. Who is the “kitty”? What is happening here?
I dressed and phoned a cab. I knew where I was headed: to the airport. Yes, it is pricey. But the truth is more valuable than anything.
I’ll never forget what I witnessed there. A twenty-year-old girl with long, wavy hair and a lean frame, wearing the same colorful shirt I saw in my husband’s bag. She laughed. They hugged. Róbert murmured something into her ear; she giggled and hugged him. It felt like a cheesy movie was playing in front of me.
The half-year savings and cancellations were all for a lie.
I wanted to run up to them, scream, and possibly slap them, but they had already begun to board. It was late. I went outside, sat on a bench, and began to cry. I wasn’t crying, I was sobbing. People looked at me suspiciously, but I didn’t mind.
The snow started to fall. First, in small flakes, then in a thick white blanket. I simply sat there, frozen.
A voice called out:
Excuse me, ma’am… “Are you OK?”
A man stood before me. In a tattered coat, with tangled hair, freezing to the bone.
“Can I help you with something?”
“No one knows about me anymore,” I said with a sour smile.
“Maybe the situation isn’t so bad…” he remarked softly. “Could you assign me some work? Anything. Temporarily.”
“I looked at him…” We both lost today. But at least he wasn’t lying.
“Do you know what? Come with me. “At least eat something and warm yourself up.”
“Are you serious?” He stared at me.
“Are you a serial killer?”
“No,” he said, smiling.
– Then come. There’s nothing left at home, and Róbert even ate what was in the refrigerator.
The taxi driver grumbled at us, but when I offered him more money, he changed his attitude.
The man introduced himself as Romeo, but insisted that I call him Roli. He was an engineer. He lost both his job and his residence. His wife has moved in with her mother.
“He said he’d come back when I got a job again,” he continued, wryly smiling.
At home, he went to the radiator to warm his hands.
“You can take a bath,” I said. “My husband’s robe is in the closet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure. He’s having cocktails with his partner somewhere down south, therefore the robe is available right now.”
While Roli was taking a bath, I prepared some soup. In the meantime, I was thinking, “Am I normal?” Should I allow a complete stranger inside my apartment?
But today was already out of whack. It felt as if the planet had shifted off its axis.
When he emerged from the bath, I barely recognized him. He was in his early forties, a resolute man with clever eyes; his robe hung a little awkwardly on him, but he was still attractive.
“You’re really not homeless?”
“No,” said the man. “I’m just going through a difficult time right now.”
We sat down to eat and began conversing. Roli informed me about his previous job at a construction company, where he planned projects. Then came bankruptcy, six months of no salary, and finally layoffs.
“My wife put up with it for a while,” he admitted. “Then she said, ‘I don’t want to live in poverty.'”
“Love at first sight,” I said.
“It seems so.”
I also related my story: the airport scene, the “kitten” message, and the end of our joint funds.
“And now?” he said gently.
– I am getting a divorce. My grandma owned the flat, and I have a job that will allow me to make ends meet.
– What about the children?
“It didn’t work out,” I lamented. “He was putting it off. “Now I understand why.”
“Maybe it’s better this way,” Roli remarked gently. “From a husband like that…”
“At least I don’t have to explain to my child why dad went on vacation with someone else.”
After eating, he turned on the television; he hadn’t seen the news in a while. I walked into the kitchen to wash the dishes, then sat down in the armchair and fell asleep.
“What is this?!” he growled at me. “The key doesn’t work!”
“I changed the lock,” I explained quietly.
“Are you entirely crazy? “This apartment is also mine!”
“It was. “Now it’s all mine,” I said, taking an envelope from my bag.
“What is this?”
“Divorce summons. “Hearing tomorrow morning.”
“You… do you seriously want a divorce?”
– Completely serious. How is your “cat”? Has the tan worn off after the holidays?
His face was distorted.
“You have no idea what you’re missing! I’m a man! I need passion, fire! And you’re just… just a cold woman!”
– I could give you half a year’s worth of savings. You squandered it in a week.
Robert clenched his fist. For a moment I thought he was going to hit me. I closed my eyes.
But, then…
“Victoria, is everything okay?”
A recognizable voice. I open my eyes, and there stands Roli. But she is no longer the cold, ragged stranger I took in. She has a clean, crisp suit and an attractive haircut, and two men in suits stand behind her.
Robert staggers backwards as if struck by lightning. His mouth remained gaping. Then he sits on the floor. His face resembles aged plaster.
“Is that you?” I asked in disbelief. “Roli?”
“I,” he said, nodding and smiling. “I promised to get back on my feet. I just returned from a business meeting. I thought I’d pop by to see how you were doing.”
Robert muttered something under his breath before jumping up and storming away as if he were being pursued.
Roli gently grabbed my hand.
Let’s go. I will tell you everything.
We sat at home and brewed tea. Like a movie. It turned out that the night he spent at my house, he spotted a job advertisement on the news: a huge, multinational design firm was searching for an experienced expert, not a junior. The next morning, he arrived at the reception.
– I got the probationary period. Not long after, I was hired full-time. Now I have my own team, a good salary, and a vision for the future. I just worked and studied for months. But the whole time, there was only one thing on my mind: you.
