This is absurd. A comedy. Pure nonsense. Things like this don’t happen in real life!
I met her a few years ago, and she was both my revenge on my wife and a breath of fresh air that painted my life in vivid colors. For a short while, she became my emotional fireworks, my comfort, and my escape. She was more than just a fling for a couple of nights. Later, she haunted my dreams... I was obsessed with her! And I still think about her...
And now what?
My angel girl is standing right in front of me, pretending she doesn’t remember me. She’s become Danilenko’s wife! Harry isn’t a close friend of mine, but we worked abroad together once and promised to keep in touch after the contract ended, to visit each other. Back then, I had just gotten married, and my child was born, so I needed to provide for my new family. It was tough since I was still studying to be a teacher. So, I took a year-long academic leave and went to work overseas, then returned to my family, finished my studies, and started a modest career as a geography teacher. Once I became a family man, friends and buddies took a backseat, so all those promises with Harry stayed just words, and our contact was limited to birthday greetings on Viber. But a month ago, after I finally got divorced and started reconnecting with friends I’d neglected over the years, I made the careless decision to message Harry. And now—here I am, passing through his city, and he’s invited me to his home. A home he shares with her—my angelic wonder...
If I think about it, Danilenko means nothing to me. He was never really a friend. But finding myself in such an awkward situation, for a moment, I realize I should leave. I don’t belong here. This is someone else’s family, someone else’s territory. And someone else’s woman, who was once mine for a few days. How can I look Harry in the eye?
Yet, I can’t bring myself to go. I said I’d leave, but now I’m hesitating.
I just stare at Angelica. I just tear myself apart inside for my mistakes... She’s become even more beautiful in the time we’ve been apart. How can I tear my eyes away from her?
“It wouldn’t be polite to turn down Harry’s invitation. Please, come into our home,” the wife of another man insists.
“Harry”... “Our home”... The words she speaks sink into my soul and hit me like a punch to the gut.
Back then, I was the tied-down man, and she was free. Now, it’s the exact opposite. And once again, we’re not meant to be happy together... Though maybe she’s happy with “Harry”? I hope so.
Letting out a loud exhale, I muster the courage to cross the threshold. I hand her the gifts I brought. After closing the door behind me, she glances at the label on the bottle.
“Semi-sweet. France,” I describe the wine so she doesn’t have to waste time reading it herself.
“That’s good. I don’t like sweet wines,” my angel comments on my choice, shattering my heart. Is she doing this on purpose, to make the memories sting like wild wasps whose nest has been disturbed by angry folks? Once, she rejected a drink I bought with the exact same words.
While pain paralyzes me, she heads deeper into the apartment, tossing over her shoulder:
“I’ll be in the kitchen. Take off your shoes and jacket. There are slippers by the wall.”
I glance at the row of slippers. There are more than just one or two pairs. Looks like Harry’s still the life of the party and loves being around people. My little angel probably has to host guests often, like she’s doing with me right now.
My eyes linger on a pair of white, soft-looking slippers with a crown design and the words “Beloved Husband” written on them. It’s not hard to guess who they’re for and who gave them. The man of the house gets the best.
I’m starting to regret coming to Zaporizhzhia today. I knew my angel girl was from here. I thought about her while I was on the road. Maybe, subconsciously, I wanted to run into her in some weird way, but I never could’ve imagined it would happen under these circumstances.
Their apartment radiates family harmony and order—it’s obvious. When I spoke to Danilenko on the phone, he told me his wife knows how to make a home cozy, and he’s proud of her. For a moment, I felt a pang of envy—some guys just get all the luck! And now, knowing who exactly is the keeper of warmth in Harry’s home, I envy him even more.
I never doubted Angelica’s knack for homemaking. She loves to put her touch on everything and create a harmonious, comfortable atmosphere. During those fleeting days we spent together, that’s exactly what she did. For me. And now, she’s doing all that and more for someone else.
Bitterness and despair grip me by the throat and tear into me like a pack of wild dogs. What an idiot I am! But I deserve this. If someone can see but chooses to close their eyes and claim they’re blind, no one can help them see again—only they can open their eyes with their own willpower, endurance, and desire...
And that’s what I was. I told myself I was stuck in a dead end. But was I really? No. I wasn’t blind—I was just a fool! If you can’t see the exit sign, maybe it’s only because you think it can’t possibly be the one labeled “entrance”? Only an idiot wouldn’t get that. An idiot like I was.
Three and a half years ago, I found out about my wife’s betrayal. A long, brazen, shameful affair. I demanded a divorce from Olga, but she begged for forgiveness. She swore it would never happen again, that she’d been led astray. Since we were raising a daughter together, I swallowed my pride. Because I was a fool.
That year, instead of a family trip to the Azov Sea, I went alone. I needed time to myself, to think about how to move forward, what the best course of action was. Thoughts of betrayal choked me. I didn’t want to cheat on Olga in return, but then I saw her—my angel girl. Angelica’s beauty, her graceful figure, her aura of calm with a sweet hint of joy—it captivated me almost at first sight. And after that, everything happened beyond my control. I was drawn to her! And I couldn’t resist.
When I returned to my wife after that vacation, at first, I thought my mistake was meeting Angelica. Saying goodbye, I knew I’d grown attached to her, and she to me. I saw tears pooling in her eyes as I kissed her cherry lips one last time, and I cursed myself for letting a beach romance happen. But later, I realized the mistake wasn’t meeting my angel. The mistake was letting her go. Now, as a guest in her home, I understand that more than ever. Despite my wife’s promises, I was betrayed again. I made a mess of things, keeping the wrong person in my life—the one I could’ve been happy with, and who I could’ve made happy in return, slipped through my fingers. And now? All I can do is bite my knuckles in regret...
Looking around the room one more time, I let out a heavy sigh. Maybe I should just turn around and leave without saying goodbye? Why keep tearing open my heart and rubbing my presence in Angelica’s face? I wouldn’t say she looked thrilled to see me. Probably, behind that wall she escaped to, she’s asking herself why the hell I showed up. I’m surprised she even let me into the apartment. If I were in her shoes, I’d have kicked myself out. I’ve got no business here—barging into other people’s families when I couldn’t even hold my own together...