Betrayal. I Don't Need a Homebody

“I’m leaving.”

“Where to? We have a family…”

He smirked.

“Family? No, Olesya. Family is when you want to come back home. And I can barely drag my feet here.”

Cold struck through me, my hands started to shake.

“What did I do wrong?”

He looked at me with indifference, even with pity—as if I were something dirty stuck to his boot.

“You’re a clutz. Do you understand? A homebody clutz. Always in a robe, bags under your eyes. It reeks of borscht and longing from you. I’m tired.”

“But I— I…—my voice broke, my chest tightened.

“You’re nobody, Olesya. And next to you, I’ve become nobody too. Enough.”

He left, slamming the door.

And I was left alone—“nobody.”

In a robe.

With borscht on the stove.

And his child in my heart—one he will never find out about.