Olga slowly approached the mirror, adjusting a stray lock of hair. She had always felt uncomfortable in noisy gatherings, but Artyom, her husband, decided that it would be impolite to refuse the neighbors’ invitation to a New Year’s party.
“Do you understand, Olya, they always invite us,” he coaxed, pulling out his best suit from the closet. “It would be wrong on our part if we ignored their hospitality.”
Olga sighed, trying to hide her displeasure. Deep down, she longed to spend the evening quietly together, enjoying the festive atmosphere in the cozy comfort of their home. But she couldn’t object: the neighbors were indeed very kind people and had even helped them during the renovation several months ago.
When they arrived at the neighbors’ apartment, the place was already buzzing. Music played loudly, bursts of laughter and children’s voices could be heard. People moved between rooms, holding glasses and plates of appetizers. Olga tensed a little, feeling a slight anxiety creeping over her. Loud social gatherings had never been her scene.
They were greeted by Egor, a young and charismatic neighbor who smiled broadly, as if he were delighted to see every guest.
“Olga, Artyom! How happy I am that you came! Come in, make yourself at home!” he said, holding his gaze on Olga a bit longer than simple cordiality would explain.
His words made her blush slightly, but she quickly composed herself, trying to remain calm.
The evening gradually gained momentum. Artyom quickly found a group among familiar men and immersed himself in conversations about work, football, and other topics that interested him. Left alone, Olga felt somewhat lost. To hide her awkwardness, she took a champagne glass from the waiter’s tray and moved towards the window to admire the winter landscape outside. The snow lay in a thick blanket, illuminated by the soft light of the streetlamps.
“Why is such a beautiful girl sitting alone and bored?” a familiar voice asked nearby.
She turned and saw Egor. He was holding a glass of red wine; his smile seemed warm, but there was something more in his eyes—a certain insistence that made Olga slightly uncomfortable.
“I’m just admiring the view,” she replied, trying to speak lightly and nonchalantly, though inside she felt a touch of unease. His steady gaze made her feel as if she were the center of attention, something she did not want at all.
“Then perhaps we should liven up your evening a bit?” Egor suggested, extending his hand. “Shall we dance?”
Olga hesitated. She knew that refusing might seem rude, especially considering that Artyom was completely absorbed in his conversations and would likely not notice her absence.
“Well, one dance won’t hurt,” she finally said, placing her glass on a nearby table.
The music was slow, and Egor moved confidently, with a grace she hadn’t expected. His hand on her waist lingered a little longer than was appropriate, but Olga decided not to pay it any heed.
“You are remarkably light,” he whispered, leaning in closer.
“Thank you,” she replied, trying to avert her gaze to hide her embarrassment.
The dance dragged on. Olga noticed the music growing even slower, and Egor embraced her a bit more tightly than appropriate. A glimmer in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable, but she decided not to make a fuss.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.
“Egor, you’ve had too much to drink,” she replied, attempting to gently pull away, but he held her hand.
“Just a couple of glasses. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are the most beautiful woman at this party,” he continued, not letting go of her.
Olga tried to bring some lightness back into the conversation, but her heart was already beginning to race with anxiety.
“It’s time to go back to the guests,” she suggested, stepping aside.
Egor snorted.
“Yes, of course. But maybe before that, shall we have another glass? I have some excellent wine at my apartment that I saved for the occasion, in case I met a woman like you.”
Olga laughed, trying to turn it into a joke.
“You’ve clearly had too much to drink.”
“Just one glass,” Egor said, gesturing toward the door. “Just one.”
She hesitated. Foolishly, but for some reason, she decided to agree. Perhaps to avoid conflict or simply not to offend Egor.
The morning began with a bright light piercing through the curtains, striking her eyes directly. Her head throbbed as if after a long party, but that wasn’t Olga’s main worry. She slowly realized that the bed around her was completely unfamiliar. Looking around, she understood that she was in a stranger’s room. In the corner stood Egor, who smiled upon noticing that she had awakened.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said with a light hint of mockery.
Olga sat up abruptly, feeling panic seize her. She was wearing her clothes, but the memories of how she ended up there were hazy.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Egor shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed.
“You came to me. We danced, drank wine… and then you got tired and stayed here to rest. Don’t worry, nothing happened.”
Her eyes narrowed. The memories of the previous evening were fragmented. She remembered the dance, remembered how she had entered his apartment, but everything else was like a blur.
“Are you sure?” Olga looked at him suspiciously.
“Of course,” Egor spread his hands. “But if you want, you can tell your husband something else.”
Those words made her freeze. They sounded like a threat. Now it was important for her to understand: what exactly had happened and how to deal with the consequences.
—
Olga hurriedly left Egor’s apartment, feeling her heart pounding with mixed emotions. Every step down the stairs seemed heavier than the previous one, as if she carried an invisible burden on her shoulders. Egor’s words echoed in her mind—his biting laughter and deceptively tender tone. Outside, the air felt thick and viscous, as though it resisted her every move. But she had to go home—to the one who was waiting for her—and figure out what to do next.
When Olga entered her apartment, Anton was sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hands. His gaze, full of questions, met hers immediately. His eyes flashed with surprise, then with cold fury.
“Where have you been all night?” he asked, barely restraining his anger, which was slowly rising like the tide before a storm.
Olga swallowed nervously. She knew that the truth would destroy everything that remained between them, so she chose a half-truth.
“I was tired after dancing, stopped by Egor’s for some tea. We talked, and I accidentally fell asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know,” she said, trying to speak confidently, though her voice trembled.
“You went to Egor’s?” Anton squinted, as if trying to see a darker side of the truth in her words. “Really?”
His tone rang like a cracking glass, ready to shatter at any moment. Olga felt her cheeks begin to burn. She realized that her explanation sounded weak and insincere, like a poorly played note.
“Why did you even come home without me?” she snapped, hoping to divert attention from herself and shift some of the blame onto him.
“Because you made it clear that you were having a good time without me,” he replied, looking straight into her eyes. “I was waiting for you. But when you continued flirting with that… neighbor, I realized I had no place there.”
His voice trembled with restrained anger, and his words fell on Olga like stones, evoking feelings of shame and guilt.
Olga lowered her eyes. She realized that with her actions she had already crossed that invisible line they had guarded for so long. But what exactly had happened at Egor’s, she still couldn’t remember. That hazy spot became her personal nightmare, one she couldn’t dispel.
“Anton, I made a mistake, but it means nothing…” she began, trying to find words to stop this destructive wave.
“A mistake?” Anton bitterly smirked. “Was it a mistake, or did you simply decide that you no longer cared about what I feel?”
Anton stood up from the sofa, his face reflecting a mixture of pain and anger. He took several steps across the room, as if trying to cope with his emotions.
“I saw you dancing with him. I saw you laughing at his jokes,” his voice trembled as if he could barely contain himself. “But I never imagined that you would go so far.”
Olga nervously clasped her hands, trying to find any explanation.
“I don’t know what happened,” she almost whispered. “It was all like a blur. I… I didn’t mean to…”
“Didn’t mean to?” he interrupted, his voice growing louder. “You didn’t mean to, but why did you stay with him? Why didn’t you come back home?”
Olga was silent. She understood that words would change nothing. Her mind tried to recall the events of the previous night, but alcohol and emotion had shrouded everything in a veil. All she knew was the pain she saw in Anton’s eyes.
“We built everything together,” he continued. “I trusted you. And you betrayed me.”
His voice turned cold, and a note of deep hurt sounded in it.
“Anton, I made a mistake,” Olga said in despair, grabbing his hand. “But it means nothing. I love you.”
“Love?” he yanked his hand away, as if her touch burned him. “If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have ended up in bed with a neighbor.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Anton did not budge.
“What would you say if I did the same? If I came home only in the morning after spending the night with someone else?”
Those words struck her like a knife in the heart. She knew she had nothing to say in response. All she could do was silently watch as he took his jacket and headed for the door.
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, Olga,” he said finally. “I need time. But for now, I’m leaving.”
The door slammed, and silence fell over her like a heavy blanket. Olga collapsed onto the sofa, feeling her world crumble.
Olga sat in silence for several hours, contemplating every detail of the recent events. She tried to find an explanation, an excuse, even a faint glimmer of hope that could mend what had happened. But instead of answers, she was met only with the realization of how deeply she had betrayed Anton’s trust.
The next day, she decided not to wait any longer. With her thoughts gathered, Olga went to her friend Yulia, who had always been her support in difficult times.
“You need to give him time,” Yulia said calmly, offering her a cup of tea. “But more importantly, you need to figure out what’s inside you. Why did this happen? Why did you let it happen?”
Those words made Olga reflect even more deeply. She realized that her behavior at the party was driven not only by alcohol but also by her own sense of being underappreciated in the marriage. She missed the warmth and attention she once received from Anton. But could that be an excuse? Of course not.
A few days later, Anton came back for his things. His face showed fatigue, but his eyes held no more fury—only cold detachment.
“Are you going to explain yourself?” he finally asked.
“I can’t find the words to fix everything,” Olga replied honestly. “But I want you to know: I never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake I will regret for the rest of my life.”
Anton looked at her with a long, piercing stare.
“Olga, this isn’t just a mistake. It’s something more. And I’m not sure I can ever trust you again.”
He paused for a moment before continuing.
“I’m leaving for a while. Maybe I need to be alone to figure out what to do next.”
Olga nodded, understanding that insisting further was pointless. All she could do was let him go, giving him the opportunity to make his own choice.
Anton and Olga lived apart for several months. He fully immersed himself in work, avoiding friends and acquaintances. Meanwhile, she sought solace in self-improvement: attending courses and beginning a journal where she recorded her feelings.
One day, Olga saw Anton on the street. He was walking with a colleague, laughing about something. She realized that his life was moving on, while hers still stood still. That encounter forced her to make a final decision.
She wrote him a letter, apologizing for everything that had happened and wishing him happiness. At the end of the letter she wrote:
“I hope that someday you can find the strength to forgive me. Not so that we can return to what was, but to free yourself from this burden I have placed upon you.”
A week later, she received a short reply from him:
“I forgive you. But I can’t come back.”
Those words marked the beginning of a new phase for her. Olga realized that sometimes a sincere apology is all one can do to try and mend the past.
Anton and Olga never saw each other again. He began new relationships, and she continued her life, having learned from her mistakes.
That story left a mark on their lives, but it also taught them that trust is something that must be cherished, and once lost, it can be impossible to fully restore.