While his wife balanced the overstuffed shopping bags on her way home through the gray apartment blocks on the other side of town, she wondered if there would be enough money left until the end of the month,
while her husband lay thousands of kilometers away, on a blindingly white sandy beach, rocked by the warm waves of carefreeness.
At home, the woman sweated as she pushed the stroller up the stairs, because the elevator wasn’t working again, one hand carrying a bag full of bread and milk, the other holding the coat of the younger child,
who, of course, started to throw a tantrum along the way.
Meanwhile, the man lay on his side on a sunbed, lazily watching the sea as the transparent greenish-blue waves repeatedly smoothed over the shore.
The sun scorched his skin, but he didn’t mind. The air was both salty and sweet at the same time, palm trees swayed above them, and soft music came from the bar. Everything seemed light, simple.
Next to him, his lover lay stretched out, as if this world had always belonged to her.
The woman wore sunglasses that hid her gaze, her skin glistening with suntan oil, a faint, confident smile on her lips that suggested she always came out victorious in every situation.
She turned, propped herself on her elbow, and without removing her glasses, asked mockingly:
– And your wife… that little fool really didn’t notice anything?
The man grinned. He almost found the question insulting.
– No. – he shrugged. – She doesn’t care.
– How come she doesn’t care? – the woman asked, tilting her head slightly. – She’s at home, right? And here you are, lying with me. Are you really that blind?
The man stretched out his legs, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.
– She doesn’t have time for such things. She’s always rushing. Morning daycare, then work, afternoon extracurriculars, shopping, dinner, laundry.
At night, she collapses into bed, too exhausted even to talk. She thinks this is life. And she also thinks everything is fine between us.
The lover laughed softly.
– Convenient. A wife like that is a gift. She handles everything, and you enjoy life. – Slowly, she removed her sunglasses and looked deep into the man’s eyes. – But tell me… when will you finally get divorced?
The question was not new. It had been asked countless times before. Yet the man acted as if he were hearing it for the first time.
– Soon. – he answered calmly. – Very soon.
– You’ve been saying that for a year. – the woman remarked sharply. – I’m not twenty anymore. I won’t wait forever.
The man’s face tensed.
– I need to take care of everything. Properly. Without a scandal.
– Of course. – she smiled coldly. – You know she won’t leave. She’s not that type.
The man didn’t answer immediately. His thoughts briefly returned home. He saw his wife in the kitchen, stirring soup and helping the child with homework at the same time.
He saw her getting up at dawn to catch the bus on time. He saw her sitting exhausted at the table in the evening, sometimes just staring into space.
He once noticed this. He was once grateful for it. Now, it had simply become natural to him, like air.
The lover stood up.
– I’ll get a mineral water. – she said casually. – Don’t get bored.
The man was left alone in the shadow of the palm tree. The sunlight vibrated in the air. His phone lay on the towel beside him. Then a message arrived. His wife’s name appeared on the screen.
He didn’t panic. He was more annoyed. – Surely it’s something about the kids again… – he muttered to himself. He opened the message. A single photo.
He tapped it. He froze. The photo was a screenshot. A conversation. The number was familiar. His lover. But not with him. With another man.
The man’s fingers went numb. His heart suddenly started beating as if it wanted to burst out of his chest. The first line: “Don’t get attached. I’m only with him for the money.”
At first, he thought he was misunderstanding. He read it again. Then he scrolled further.
“This bald guy thinks I love him. He has no idea. The point is, he pays. Trips, gifts, everything. I enjoy it, but I will never live with him.”
The man almost dropped the phone.
The “bald guy.”
Him.
The woman who demanded he divorce, who talked about the future, who staged jealousy scenes – she had written to another man in the same tone. The same sentences.
The same role. And then he noticed the message below the photo. From his wife. “I know everything. And yes, she does not own you. You are just one of many to her. Decide where you want to live.”
No shouting. No insults. No tearful accusations. Just one sentence. Cold. Objective. Final.
The man looked around the beach. Suddenly, everything had changed. The sea was no longer inviting. The sun became scorching. The sand burned his skin. The lover returned with the water in hand.
– What’s wrong? – she asked, laughing. – You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
The man silently handed her the phone. The woman skimmed the screen. Her face tensed for a moment. But only for a moment. Then she shrugged.
– And? – she asked indifferently. – That’s your business.
– You… – the man’s voice trembled. – You lied.
– Don’t dramatize. – she sighed. – Everyone lies a little. You too.
The man sat up. – Was it only for the money that you were with me?
The woman slowly put her sunglasses back on.
– Come on. I enjoyed it too. But let’s be honest… – she leaned closer. – What did you think? That it was true love?
Something tightened in the man’s chest. He suddenly remembered his wife’s eyes. The time she held his hand in the hospital during the birth of their first child. The times they laughed together at nothing.
When he still mattered to her.
The lover stood up.
– Listen. If you have a problem at home, deal with it. But don’t drag me into it.
– You dragged me in! – he burst out.
– No. – she shook her head. – You chose to escape. I just took advantage of the opportunity.
The man stood up. His legs were shaking. Suddenly everything was clear. His wife was not blind. She just watched. She waited. And when the time came, she didn’t beg.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t plead. She just sent the truth. The man looked at his phone once more. “Decide where you want to live.” The question was simple.
But under the weight of that answer, he collapsed. Because for the first time, there was no convenient choice. No one else to carry the burden. No one to handle it.
The sand was no longer soft. The sea was no longer tempting. The vacation was over. And the man felt for the first time in his life what it was like when he alone bore the consequences.
