Camilla
The bell signaling the end of the last class brings an indescribable sense of relief. I feel like jumping up and running home alongside the kids. Finally, the weekend is here—I can sleep in, savor a slow cup of coffee, cook something delicious, and unwind with a favorite movie in the evening. Best of all, no noise, no shouting.
— Camilla Edwardson, — the vice-principal calls out as I stride confidently toward the school exit.
— Yes? — I turn around, knowing I can’t just ignore her.
— In two weeks, we’re scheduled to reopen the pool after renovations, — she says, stepping closer.
— Yes, I’m aware, — I reply calmly. She’s been mentioning this opening at staff meetings for the past three months.
— We need you to prepare some poems for the kids to recite during the celebration. Sponsors will be attending, so everything must run smoothly, — she emphasizes, underscoring the importance of the event.
— Understood, — I respond evenly, knowing there’s no way out of this. I’ll have to search for poems tonight so the kids have enough time to memorize them.
— Have a great weekend, — she smiles, and I’m finally free to go.
As planned, I hurry to Natalie’s clinic. She’s squeezed me in at the end of her workday. Luckily, the clinic isn’t far, so I get to enjoy a walk in the fresh air while the rain has paused. I knock on her office door and peek inside.
— Hey, can I come in?
— Oh, my dear, you’re quick, — my friend says with a smile. — Come on in.
— I rushed over, — I reply, taking off my coat. — I want to get home early and surprise Yuri with a special dinner. I even picked up a little gift for him—an e-cigarette.
— Wow! What’s the occasion for such a gift? If I’m not mistaken, he gets home earlier than you. Why doesn’t he cook dinner for his wife? — she teases.
— It’s the anniversary of the day we met, — I explain as we step behind the privacy screen. Despite being the one who introduced us, Natalie has never been particularly fond of my husband.
I can tell from the look on her face that my visit is in vain. She stays silent, but I already know. I get dressed and step out from behind the screen, sitting across from her as she writes something in my chart. Unable to bear the silence, I speak first:
— I get it. You don’t need to worry about how to break the news.
— Camilla, didn’t I warn you about those hormonal pills? I don’t know why that reproductive specialist prescribed them to you, but now your cycle is completely off. I don’t even understand why Yuri dragged you to that doctor if he wasn’t willing to get tested himself, — she starts, her frustration building.
— He said he got tested, — I defend him.
— Did you see the results on paper? — she asks for the umpteenth time.
— No. Are you suggesting I shouldn’t trust my own husband?
— I’m suggesting you stop taking stuff that’s only harming you, — she says indignantly, her gray-green eyes flashing with concern. When she’s angry or worried, they turn the vivid shade of fresh grass.
— So, it’s a no this time too, — I sigh. — That’s a shame. I was almost certain.
Natalie doesn’t have any words of comfort; she just shakes her head sadly.
— How’s work? — she asks, handing me my chart.
— Same as always. A crazy day.
— Camilla, you’re under constant stress. You’re always running somewhere, rushing, with no time for yourself. You need to rest, to stop and take a deep breath. I’ll write down the name of some vitamins—they’ll definitely help during the spring when your body’s feeling run-down.
— You have no idea how tired I am of all this. I even dream about those tests and disappointing results.
In the five years of our marriage, I’ve spent four of them running from clinic to clinic, desperately trying to figure out why we still don’t have a child. Yuri doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He thinks it’ll happen when the time is right. But I can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t have a burning desire to become a father. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, I don’t know. When I suggest we go through the process together, he flat-out refuses and gets angry. Once, after yet another argument, he told me he’d already done all the necessary tests and that everything was fine on his end. Since then, I’ve felt guilty. I think he blames me for the fact that our family hasn’t grown.
Natalie understands everything, worries for me, and tries to reassure me that things will work out, that my day will come. But sadly, there’s nothing she can do to help.
I say goodbye to Natalie and hurry to catch the bus. It’s almost six o’clock, and the sky is starting to darken.
Am I sad? Yes. Unbearably so… I had hoped to give Yuri the best gift imaginable. But, unfortunately… If I start feeling sorry for myself again, I won’t be able to hold back the tears right here on the street.
So, the only gift will be the e-cigarette sitting in my bag—a subtle hint that it’s time to quit smoking. Yet somehow, Yuri Vlasov, the infectious disease specialist, doesn’t seem to get it. As for my visit to Natalie, I’ll keep quiet about it. I don’t want to ruin the romantic evening.
I dash into the supermarket, frantically thinking about what to cook that’s quick and tasty. In the end, I grab a bottle of champagne and decide to order sushi so I don’t spend half the evening in the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, I’m approaching our building. Could it be that this hectic day is finally over, and I’m about to step into the comfort of our apartment? It would be nice if it were truly ours, but we make do with what we have. Yuri’s priority is a car, and I’ve accepted his choice. Truthfully, I feel guilty for not agreeing to sell the apartment in Berdyansk to help save up faster. But it’s not about greed—it’s about memories. That place is the only thing left from my childhood. It’s priceless to me. It holds my past, and from its window, you can see the sea and the dawn of a new day. I just can’t let it go.
A woman with a small dog exits the building and holds the door open for me.
— Oh, thank you, — I say, hurrying in with my bags. I climb to the second floor and unlock the door. The apartment is silent, as if no one’s home. For a moment, I stand there, puzzled, until I notice a pair of women’s boots on the shoe rack.