Divorce. A (Not So) Maiden Name

My husband holds hands with my former friend.
— I’m leaving you, Agata, — declares her husband. — Katya and I are expecting a child.
Despair crashes down on me like a wave. My lungs refuse to breathe, my heart erupts like a volcano, burning everything inside. Consciousness clings to a thin ear of hope. I ask:
— Is this a joke?
— No, Agata, — firmly answers Katya, squeezing my husband’s hand even harder with her fingers.
— Agata, you and I are getting divorced, — the husband confirms.
Uninvited tears pour from my eyes; I didn’t want Alyosha and Katya to see them.
— Don’t play the victim! Katya, unlike you, managed to get pregnant and soon I’ll have a heir. As you can see, the problem wasn’t me.
***
On the fifth anniversary of our wedding, my husband told me he was leaving for his pregnant lover. But the tragedy that at first knocks me off my feet turns out to be a chance—an opportunity to start the best life. And the former husband will still beg me to come back.