After the Divorce. You Can't Get Us Back

— You can take it off the table. I’m not going to eat.

In her husband’s gaze there is no warmth, no familiar calm affection anymore—only irritation and a firm decision.

— You did ask what gift I wanted most of all. Here it is. The best of all possible. The one you couldn’t give me in twenty years.

He approaches Aline and confidently places his palm on her shoulder. She replies with a wide smile.

— My son, — says Vasily, evenly, without any feeling at all. — He will be born in May. I’m going to be a father.

My head rings; the ground seems to slip from under my feet. I clutch the back of the chair to keep from falling. He talks about a son… but not about mine. Not about ours.

— Vasya… — I exhale, stumbling, and call him what I used to, tenderly. — I, too. I, too, am expecting a child.

The sentence hangs heavily between us. Vasily grimaces as if he has heard something unpleasant.

— Enough, Taisya! Our daughter warned you: the moment you find out about Aline, you’ll start making things up.