“Ilya, don’t go into the living room yet and urgently—wash your hands!” I shouted toward the hallway when my husband returned from work.
I wasn’t done preparing for the holiday… I needed about five more minutes. But a moment later, the person who appeared on the living room threshold wasn’t Ilya at all.
“Hello, I’m Kristina,” said the made-up red-lipped woman. Her lips stretched into a smile, and she added: “Your husband has a second family. With me. We need to do something about that.
It’s been thirteen years since we met. A solid family, a wonderful son. And my husband’s words: ‘I have another.’ Said after that very ‘other’ came into our home herself to destroy my life.”