Betrayal. Don't Let Go
5 hrs. 11 min.
Language
Russian
Author
Nadezhda Skay
Author
Nadezhda Skay
Narrator
Anastasia Vostrikova
Narrator
Anastasia Vostrikova
Description
*Elena, I love your husband. Every day I wait for him to finally find the courage to leave you*
— Is this some kind of joke…
*You probably think it’s a joke or that they got the number wrong, but it’s not. Pasha is wonderful; we’re insanely happy together. Don’t believe me? Ask him about Marina*
Not a joke. I read the message again and again—over and over. It wasn’t a joke. My hands shook so much that I almost dropped the phone.
— Does Marina Boartseva work with you?
Oh no! Could it be true? Pasha choked on his drink, squirmed in his chair, and answered, almost stuttering.
— Hm…yes, there is such a one.
— Pash, honestly, who is she to you?
He pushed his cup aside, stared into me with brown eyes, and said:
— Just a friend.
— In what sense?
— Literally. We’re friends and that’s all.
With those two messages from an unknown number, my family life, my love, and my faith in one single man collapsed. Forgive? No, it’s not about me. Holding my head high, I file for divorce, leave—and believe that in the future it will be better. But will the past let go of me?
— Is this some kind of joke…
*You probably think it’s a joke or that they got the number wrong, but it’s not. Pasha is wonderful; we’re insanely happy together. Don’t believe me? Ask him about Marina*
Not a joke. I read the message again and again—over and over. It wasn’t a joke. My hands shook so much that I almost dropped the phone.
— Does Marina Boartseva work with you?
Oh no! Could it be true? Pasha choked on his drink, squirmed in his chair, and answered, almost stuttering.
— Hm…yes, there is such a one.
— Pash, honestly, who is she to you?
He pushed his cup aside, stared into me with brown eyes, and said:
— Just a friend.
— In what sense?
— Literally. We’re friends and that’s all.
With those two messages from an unknown number, my family life, my love, and my faith in one single man collapsed. Forgive? No, it’s not about me. Holding my head high, I file for divorce, leave—and believe that in the future it will be better. But will the past let go of me?
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15:44
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13:49
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