I opened the door and gestured for Nastya to go in first. She hesitated as she crossed the threshold, clutching the kitten carefully to her chest. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, mixed with a hint of distrust. I got it—everything was happening too fast for her.
“Come on in, don’t be shy,” I said, locking the door behind us.
Nastya took a few steps forward, glancing around.
“I hope you’ll feel comfortable here,” I added calmly. “You can stay until you figure out your next move.”
She nodded but didn’t say a word.
I led her down the hallway to the guest room and opened the door.
“This is your room.”
Nastya stepped inside and looked around. It was small but cozy—light walls, a wooden bed with fresh sheets, a wardrobe, and a nightlight on the table by the window. I noticed her shoulders relax just a little.
“If you need anything, just let me know. Bathroom’s to the right, kitchen’s to the left. Get some rest.”
She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, stroking the kitten.
I wanted to say something more but decided against it. Better to give her some space.
“Goodnight, Nastya,” I said softly and left, letting her be alone with her thoughts.
I sank into my armchair, leaning back with a tired sigh, and took a sip of whiskey. The drink burned my throat, spreading warmth through me. In the dim light of the desk lamp, shadows danced on the walls in strange patterns, while the city lights flickered outside the window.
I thought about Nastya.
Her guarded look, her cautious movements, the way she held onto that kitten like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. She wasn’t used to trusting people, that much was clear. Something in her eyes made me feel… what, exactly? Pity? Sympathy? No, something more.
I took another sip.
What had happened to her? How did she end up in this situation? I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to push. But the thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone.
I rubbed my face with my hand. This shouldn’t be getting to me. Not now. Not her.
But, damn it, it was.
I woke up to the sound of the doorbell. The morning was gray and quiet, the air in the room still holding the chill of night. I got up slowly, glancing at the clock—way too early for unexpected visitors.
As I walked down the hallway, I noticed the door to Nastya’s room was slightly ajar. Silence. She was probably still asleep.
The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. With an odd sense of unease, I opened the door—and froze.
Vika stood on the doorstep.
“Hey, babe,” her voice was light, casual, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “Didn’t expect me, did you?”
I really didn’t. The last time we spoke was a few days ago, and she was somewhere by the ocean, posting pics of cocktails and sunsets on social media.
“Vika? What are you doing here?”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by my reaction.
“I came back early. Wanted to surprise you. Aren’t you happy to see me?”
I hesitated for a second. Something tightened inside me. Nastya.
Vika leaned in to kiss me, but I stepped back half a pace, letting her inside.
“Yeah, of course. I just wasn’t expecting…”
Vika took off her coat, looking around the apartment.
“Has something changed around here?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer because I suddenly heard a faint sound behind me. I turned around.
Standing at the entrance to the living room was Nastya. Her hair was messy, she was wearing one of my T-shirts, and she held the kitten in her arms. She was staring straight at Vika.
Vika froze, her eyes narrowing as her face shifted from surprise to tension in an instant. She looked from me to Nastya, then back to me.
“What the hell is this?!” Her voice came out sharp, almost angry.
Nastya stayed silent, just holding the kitten a little tighter.
“Oleg?” Vika stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists. “Care to explain what’s going on here? Who is she? Why is she wearing your shirt?”
I moved toward Vika, trying to calm her down.
“Let’s not make a scene. It’s not what you think…”
“Not what I think?!” Vika laughed sarcastically. “Then what is it? Go on, explain! Are you cheating on me in your own house?!”
Nastya finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady.
“There’s nothing between us.”
Vika spun around to face her, her eyes flashing with anger.
“And you’ve got the nerve to speak?! Who even are you?”
“Vika, enough!” I cut her off firmly. “It’s a complicated situation, but yelling isn’t gonna help.”
“A complicated situation?!” Vika took a step back, her lips trembling. “I fly back early to surprise you, and I find some girl in your house, wearing your clothes—and this is just a ‘complicated situation’?!”
I tried to take her hand, but she yanked it away.
“You’ve been lying to me, Oleg. I’ve seen it in your eyes. I felt something was off, but I trusted you. And you…”
Her voice broke, and she grabbed her bag, heading for the door.
“Vika, wait…”
“Don’t!” She threw me one last furious look. “We’ve said everything we need to say.”