On my third attempt to unlock my phone, I turn on the audio that was sent to me.
“Listen, baby…”
“Where did you get this?”
“They sent it.”
“Got it. Well… even better.”
“Better? If it weren’t for this,”—I point at my phone, indicating the voice message—“would you have kept acting like a jerk?”
“Vera. I want a divorce. And I’ll tell you right away: I met someone else. The one with whom I’ve experienced such bright, real love for the first time.”
It was like I’d been slapped across the cheeks, trampled on bare feelings, and my heart was ripped out. Bright… real love. And what, Vlad, was it between us then?
Fourteen years of a happy marriage—and in the end, my husband has real love! I won’t hold him back and I won’t wish him happiness. I’ll start a new life too!