My name is Ulyana Dvortsova. I’m fifty—and only now has it dawned on me: I didn’t live—I just existed.
For thirty years I tried to be the perfect wife. I cooked borscht that my truck-driving husband adored, ironed his shirts, waited for his returns from trips, and didn’t pry with questions. I raised our daughter, Katya, worked as a merchandiser, smiled when I was supposed to, and fell silent when it was more convenient.
Katya grew up and got married—and suddenly I was left alone with the emptiness of my life.
What do I even know how to do? Who am I if you strip away the roles of wife and mother? What did I dream of—did I even dream?
Everything turned upside down when I found out that my husband was cheating on me. And not just cheating—he had been living a second life for years. The world that had seemed safe and right to me collapsed in an instant.