“Nadya?” the husband asks, shocked. “Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up from the hospital.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” My hand reaches for my dark glasses—I’m going to take them off, but I freeze.
“Sweetheart, you probably want to take a shower.”
He leads me into the bathroom and turns on the powerful water. Is he doing it so I won’t hear extra sounds?
“You don’t have any face. You’re upset because of the surgery?” he says. “Don’t worry. You’ll definitely be able to see.”
But I already can. And I see how, behind his back, a red-haired mistress has just been standing there—and now she’s sneaking down the hallway past the bathroom with a handful of things in her hands.
❁❁❁❁❁
After the surgery, I lied to my husband and told him the doctors couldn’t restore my eyesight. I wanted to go home, take off my glasses, and see with my own eyes his joyful reaction. But I saw his mistress.