“Mikhail, you betrayed me again. You crushed me, changed—” I whisper, swallowing tears. “I don’t understand how this can be possible! Honestly, I didn’t cheat!” he blurts out in a hurry. I’m suffocating from his lies. How can he say that? After all, right before our eyes there’s a stranger’s one-year-old girl—an exact copy of our Машенька. “What do I have to do for you to believe me?” the husband can barely get the words out. My heart pounds wildly in my chest. How painful and insulting it is to live everything all over again… We met with Mikhail after eight years and started from scratch. He convinced me that he could be trusted. I married him. We have two daughters and a son. Two years later, quite by accident, I learn that his favorite habit has returned—he’s lying, he’s cheating. How is that possible? He says he loves me, and that no one else is needed! Don’t I have to destroy everything,”