Anya stayed in the bathroom for a long time. She didn’t want to be alone with her ex. What was the point? To confirm that he’d managed to find happiness while she hadn’t?
She only dared to come out when she heard the commotion of family members outside the door. It seemed Nastya and Taras’s parents had arrived to meet their potential son-in-law. Deep down, Anya hoped they wouldn’t like him.
In the living room, besides Andrew, Taras and Uncle Victor were seated on the large couch. Anya’s entrance drew their attention: Taras greeted her cheerfully, while Uncle Victor jokingly remarked that she’d probably drained the entire well with how long she’d been in the bathroom. Anya deliberately avoided looking at Andrew. She wished he wasn’t there at all.
“Why don’t you tease the future son-in-law instead, Uncle? Let him see what he’s gotten himself into while there’s still time to run.”
“He’s not going anywhere now,” Victor laughed, clapping Andrew on the shoulder with a friendly pat. “Nastya’s got him on a tight leash. No escaping for our boy, right?”
Whether it was Victor’s goofy expression or Andrew’s differing opinion, the guy didn’t rush to respond. Anya shrugged and headed to her room, feeling the weight of a heavy gaze on her back. Why the hell was Andrew doing this?
His behavior infuriated her. It would’ve been better if he’d pretended not to recognize her at all. Better if he’d ignored her, acted like she didn’t exist, rather than looking at her as if… as if she were still someone he desired.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you torturing me?” she whispered, staring out the window. In her hands, she clutched a hairbrush and a blow dryer. Tears dripped from her eyes.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Startled, Anya quickly turned on the dryer to mask any sound of distress.
“Who is it?” she called out.
“Anya, it’s Mom! Can I come in?”
“Come on in!”
“Sweetie, hi! So, you’ve met Nastya’s boyfriend. Such a nice young man!” Her mom kissed Anya on the cheek and stood across from her. “Anya, have you been crying? What’s wrong? Nightmares again?”
Her mother’s surprise seemed boundless, as if she hadn’t caught her daughter in tears almost every day for the past four years.
“He’s just a guy,” Anya said, wiping away those cursed tears and continuing to dry her hair. “Nothing special about him.”
“Seems well-off, though,” her mom continued, as if she hadn’t heard a word Anya said. “Maybe he could introduce you to someone nice.”
“I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
Her mother waved a dismissive hand.
“Oh, don’t fool me! I can see your ‘fine.’ Every time I come over, you’re crying for no good reason. Anyway, we’ll talk later. Grandma and Nastya have already set the table. Let’s go.”
“I’m not going.”
“What do you mean, you’re not going?”
“Just that. I’m staying in my room. I don’t feel like seeing anyone.”
“Anya, don’t you dare show me that attitude!” her mom warned, wagging a finger. “I don’t care that you’re thirty-two. I’ll give you a good scolding like when you were a kid.”
“Go ahead. I don’t care.”
Muttering something about Taras, the clever one who could talk some sense into her, her mom left the room. A minute later, her brother knocked on the door.
“Come in!” she called.
“Aunt Karen said you’re not planning to grace the family with your presence.”
Taras sprawled lazily on the old couch across from her bed, letting out a wide yawn. Then, as if he owned the place, he propped his feet up on the armrest. Anya had just finished drying her hair and was now braiding it into a small plait. It desperately needed a trim, as she hadn’t been to a salon in ages.
“I’ve got no reason to be there. I’m not interested in that guy.”
Her brother studied her face with a scrutinizing gaze. For a moment, Anya thought he was about to figure out everything she was trying to hide. But Taras shifted his attention to the car key he was twirling in his hands.
“Nastya will be upset. She really wanted everyone to like Andrew.”
Sitting down next to her brother, Anya let out a groan. Why on earth was guilt creeping in now? She nudged her cousin over and lay down beside him.
“I hate you,” she said, staring at the ceiling.
“That’s a lie,” Taras countered with an easy tone. “I’m your favorite. If you were my teacher, you’d give me nothing but A’s.”
“I’m not anyone’s teacher anymore,” she replied sadly, remembering how her heart used to flutter with joy when she walked into the lecture hall where he sat.
“That’s your choice. And you can easily change it.”
“Maybe in another life.”
Anya had no intention of returning to the university. She didn’t even want to work. Her grandmother’s house was the best refuge, the place where she felt most at ease.
“Come on, Hopeless is waiting for us. Time to give him a hard time so he doesn’t think we’re just gonna fawn over him.”
With a reluctant smile, Anya followed her brother out of the room.
The first thing that caught her eye was Nastya sitting on Andrew’s lap, animatedly telling a story to Aunt Karen, who sat nearby. At that moment, Anya regretted agreeing to come out.
Her ex immediately shot her that particular look of his before resuming his act of pretending not to know her.
“Better this way,” she thought, clenching her jaw tightly, and went to greet her dad and Aunt Mary, Nastya and Taras’s mom. The family had already gathered around the table, eagerly eyeing the appetizing dishes while waiting for Anya. She chose a seat next to her father at the far end of the table, as far from Andrew as possible.
They’d barely lifted their forks when Uncle Victor started showering Nastya and Andrew with toasts, wishing them happiness, health, and even hinting at grandchildren. Anya ate in silence, avoiding everyone’s gaze, praying to God for this to end soon. Seeing her happy sister beside the man her heart couldn’t let go of was too painful.
“So, tell us how you two met!” Aunt Mary requested.
“Oh, it’s such a fun story!” Nastya beamed even brighter. She’d climbed off Andrew’s lap but rested her head on his strong shoulder. Once, Anya had lain on that same shoulder after passionate nights. The memory hit her like a punch to the gut, and suddenly there wasn’t enough air to breathe.
“For the first time in a year and a half, I decided to skip class with my girlfriends,” Nastya began, gesturing animatedly. “I must’ve had a gut feeling because I was drawn to Market Square. For those who don’t know, it’s the heart of Lviv, the city’s main plaza. Marina and Vicky didn’t want to ditch class, but I insisted. I said I just had to go. The girls couldn’t say no to me. Honestly, I wouldn’t have even noticed Andrew if he hadn’t looked at me with this gaze, how do I put it…”
Nastya paused to think, but Anya, unable to control herself, blurted out while staring down at her potato salad:
“Piercing.”
“Spot on, Anya!” Nastya exclaimed with a laugh. “You noticed it too? So, the moment I looked into those eyes, I couldn’t hold back a smile. And he just stood there, staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. I’m telling you…”
Nastya went on about the festive New Year’s atmosphere, a Christmas tree adorned with twinkling lights, the magical snow gently falling, and Andrew with his unbuttoned coat and a serious expression. Meanwhile, Anya felt someone’s heavy gaze on her. She kept her eyes glued to that darn potato salad, studying it inside and out, refusing to look up. But curiosity got the better of her, and she stole a quick glance at Andrew. He, like her just moments ago, was staring at an empty plate that once held sprat sandwiches. A faint smile lingered on his lips.
Searching for whoever was watching her, Anya’s gaze moved on and met Taras’s eyes. Her brother crossed his arms demonstratively and squinted as if to say, “What’s going on here?” Anya felt completely out of place. Why had she opened her mouth? Taras was sharp and observant; he could sniff out a lie in an instant.
Mustering all her willpower, Anya forced a smile at her brother as if nothing was wrong, then decided to focus on the lovey-dovey couple at the center of attention. Though it pained her, she pretended to be engrossed in their overly sweet story.
“…and I couldn’t help myself,” Nastya clapped her hands. “I went over to introduce myself. Andrew seemed so unapproachable, so cold, but I knew I could melt that ice in his heart. I cleverly got his number. We texted for a while, and then Andrew invited me to celebrate New Year’s with his friends. That’s why I didn’t come home for the holidays, and I’m sorry about that!”
“Well, we’ll think about whether to forgive you or not,” Anya’s dad teased.
“Oh, come on, Uncle!” Nastya pouted, her lips curling childishly. “I’ve apologized a thousand times already!”
“Alright, alright…”
“So,” Nastya continued, “we celebrated New Year’s together. Turns out, Andrew’s ex had broken up with him and shattered his heart, immediately replacing him with someone else. That’s why I nicknamed him Hopeless—he just couldn’t let her go,” she said, throwing her hands up with a cheerful giggle.
At those words, Andrew finally looked at Anya. She didn’t flinch, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, “Seriously? Couldn’t come up with a better story?” But Andrew didn’t react, simply shifting his gaze back to his girlfriend. Anya suddenly wondered if he wasn’t talking about her at all. Maybe someone else had “shattered” his heart, and he hadn’t thought of Anya even once. For some reason, that thought saddened her and stung her heart.
“Sounds like she was a real piece of work,” Nastya laughed. “But Nastya,” she placed a hand over her heart with a satisfied smile, “helped him forget her. And now we’ve been together for three and a half months. Oh, and I wanted to share some big news. I know it’s a bit early, but last week, Andrew proposed. And I said yes.”
Anya suddenly burst into loud laughter, drawing the family’s attention.
“Sorry,” she said once she managed to calm herself. “I just remembered a joke, but it’s not appropriate right now. But seriously, guys, isn’t it too soon?” She shot a reproachful look at her sister. “How do you know he’s not some creep? What if he turns out to be abusive after the wedding? Or maybe you’re not even compatible astrologically?”
In truth, she didn’t care about any of that. The laughter was just nerves. She had to justify it somehow and not make a complete fool of herself. But judging by the disapproval in the silent stares of her relatives (Anya met nearly everyone’s eyes), she’d already stepped into a mess. A stinking one at that.
“I agree with Anya,” Taras unexpectedly backed her up, slapping his hand on the table. “You’re too young to get married. Finish your studies first.”
Nastya’s expression changed. Even at nearly twenty, she hadn’t outgrown the teenage habit of taking any challenge as a personal attack.
“Why?!” Tears welled up in her brown eyes. “And anyway, what’s it to you? When did you move in with your Nastya? Right from the start of your relationship?”
“Nastya, we’d known each other for over a year! We were friends, and I knew her inside and out!”
“Alright, let’s not go there!” Uncle Victor interjected, turning to Andrew and gesturing toward Nastya. “Do you love her?”
A pause, lasting just a fraction of a second, told Anya the truth, even though Andrew lied:
“I do.”
She didn’t believe him. Or maybe she just didn’t want to? She didn’t want to believe that Andrew loved someone else while she was still stuck on that one perfect month when everything between them had been good.
“I’m sorry,” Anya backtracked. “I probably overreacted. It’s your life, so you decide how to live it.”
Standing up, she headed to her room while the family continued to heatedly discuss the engagement. Anya felt overwhelming shame for her inappropriate laughter. Nastya would probably be upset with her behavior, and who knows what Andrew thought.
To dull the guilt, she put on her headphones, cranked the music to max volume, and returned to her game. It helped her forget everything in the world.
After what must have been her hundredth attempt, Anya finally beat that impossibly hard level. Muttering something about victory, she stretched her hands and was about to keep playing when Taras barged into her room again. She had to take off her headphones and pause the game.
“I knocked three times, but now I see you’re pretty busy. Am I interrupting?”
“Hilarious. Sit down,” she nodded toward the couch across from her. “Didn’t kill each other out there?”
“No, but there won’t be a wedding anytime soon. You got what you wanted.”
“What I wanted? I made a mistake and even apologized. I still feel ashamed.”
Here, Anya was a bit dishonest. The news Taras brought was, in fact, a relief to her. Her brother nodded, not taking his eyes off her. He seemed to believe her, but there was still something in his gaze that made her feel ashamed all over again.
“Don’t you have anything to tell me?”
Inside, everything froze like jelly. Anya knew exactly what her brother meant. The little sneak seemed to see right through her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She lied without even blinking. Taras stared at her intently for a few more seconds before nodding again. He changed the subject himself and didn’t ask any more probing questions. Anya let out a discreet sigh of relief.