I keep watching the door, and when Tёma finally comes, I smile.
“How are you?” he asks quietly.
“As you can see—already better.”
“Because it’s the truth that slowly starts to feel lighter.” I’d read about my illness, realized the horror of what happened, and how lucky I really am.
“How did you rest? Will you show me the photos?”
“I…,” he turns away. “I… Asya, I won’t come anymore.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Just think about it!” Tёma starts talking louder, getting irritated.
“You’re an invalid now! You’re all cut up! How can anyone live with that? Can you imagine what scars you’ll have left? I can’t, Asya. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the ward and for the treatment too. And then…”
“So you’re leaving me?” I can’t believe my ears. It feels like I’m truly starting to lose my mind.
“Yes.”
He finally finds the strength to look me in the eyes—cold, чужий.
My husband left me in the hardest period, when I was fighting a serious illness. He easily crossed out twenty years of marriage. I won’t forgive and I won’t forget. I’ll get back on my feet—and I’ll cross out him too.