— Do you really think I’m going to believe in an “urgent meeting” on a Saturday evening, Vadim? Lena stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, watching her husband hurriedly stuff a phone charger and a spare shirt into his leather briefcase.
“Lenusya, don’t start, okay?” Vadim did not even turn around, continuing to rummage through the dresser drawer. “We have a contract with the Chinese that’s on fire. You know, time zones and all that. If we don’t finalize the shipments now, the company will lose millions. Do you want us to be left without a bonus before New Year’s?”
“The Chinese, huh?” Lena smirked, but there was less irony in her voice than exhaustion. “And why exactly do you need that new cologne for negotiations with the Chinese, the one you poured half a bottle of over yourself five minutes ago? Can they smell it through Zoom?”
Vadim froze for a second, his shoulders tensing, but then he immediately put on a mask of offended virtue and turned toward his wife.
“It’s basic hygiene, Lena. And respect for our partners. We’re meeting in a restaurant, in a private room. I have to look and smell presentable.”
“In a restaurant…” she repeated like an echo. “Of course. And I thought you said the meeting was at the office.”
“We’re starting at the office, then going to dinner. That’s enough of this interrogation!” he snapped the lock on his briefcase irritably. “I’m doing this for us. For the family. By the way, I ordered a courier. They’ll bring you something. A little thing, but nice. So you won’t sulk.”
Lena raised an eyebrow in surprise. Vadim had not given her gifts for no reason in about five years. Usually, it all came down to obligatory tulips on March 8 and a gift certificate to a cosmetics store for her birthday.
“What did you order?”
“A surprise,” he muttered, checking notifications on his phone. “A bath set, your favorite shower gel or something like that. You can relax this evening while I’m working. All right, I’m running.”
He pecked her on the cheek quickly, dryly, as if he had burned himself, and darted out into the stairwell.
Lena remained standing in the hallway, listening to his footsteps fade down the stairs. She knew. A woman’s intuition is a terrible thing; it works flawlessly even when you beg it to be wrong. “The Chinese,” “the meeting,” the new cologne, and his shifty eyes. The puzzle came together too easily. But she did not have the strength for a scandal.
She went into the kitchen, poured herself some cold coffee, and sat by the window. Down below, near the entrance, Vadim’s figure flashed past. He did not go to his car. He got into a Comfort Plus taxi that had pulled up. Lena smiled sadly. People don’t drive their own cars to meet the Chinese? Or did he simply not want his car to be “seen” near someone else’s building?
Two hours later, the doorbell rang.
“Delivery!” a young voice shouted from behind the door.
Lena opened it. On the threshold stood a breathless courier in a yellow jacket, a huge backpack over his shoulders.
“Apartment forty-eight? Ordered by Vadim Nikolayevich?”
“Yes, that’s my husband.”
“Here you go. There were two bags in the order, but the app glitched or something, the addresses got mixed up, but I figured it out by the surname. This is the gift packaging for you, right?”
The guy handed her a thick, heavy bag made of expensive designer paper with gold embossing. Lena was surprised. For “shower gel,” the packaging looked far too grand.
“Um… probably. He said it was a surprise.”
“Well, have a good evening!” The courier was already running downstairs, jumping over the steps.
Lena closed the door and walked into the living room. The bag pleasantly weighed down her hand. Strange. Vadim never spent money on packaging; he usually brought everything in plastic supermarket bags. Maybe she had been accusing him unfairly? Maybe he really had decided to do something nice for her, feeling guilty about constantly working?
She sat on the sofa and carefully untied the silk ribbon. Inside was not shower gel. And not a bath set.
There was a deep blue velvet box.
Lena’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be? A ring? Earrings? For their fifteenth anniversary, which he had forgotten a month ago?
With trembling fingers, she opened the lid.
Inside, on a white silk cushion, a necklace sparkled. It was not costume jewelry. Lena was no expert, but she immediately understood: this was white gold and diamonds. Delicate, elegant craftsmanship. At the center of the piece glittered a large teardrop-shaped sapphire. The thing cost a fortune. Certainly more than three of Vadim’s monthly salaries, which he was always whining about to her.
“My God…” she breathed.
The edge of a card showed white beneath the box. Lena pulled it out. A small card made of thick paper. On it, in Vadim’s familiar sweeping handwriting, was written:
“To my beloved, passionate Little Fish. May this stone remind you of the color of your eyes when you look at me. Waiting for tonight. Yours, V.”
Lena reread the text three times.
“Little Fish.”
Not Lena. Not his wife. Not “Lenusya,” as he called her when he needed something.
“Little Fish.”
Lena’s eyes were brown. Ordinary dark-brown eyes. The sapphire could in no way remind anyone of their color.
The world around her swayed. The sounds of the street outside disappeared, leaving only a roar in her ears. So she had not imagined it. So it was not paranoia.
Vadim had bought a necklace. An expensive, luxurious necklace. For his mistress. And for her, his wife, with whom he had lived for fifteen years, who washed his shirts and saved money on tights to pay for their son’s tutors, he had ordered “shower gel.”
And that idiot courier had mixed up the bags.
Lena imagined what was happening at the other end of the city right now. Some “Little Fish”—surely young, blue-eyed, and long-legged—was receiving a bag with shower gel worth three hundred rubles.
Laughter burst from her throat on its own. At first it was quiet, almost like a sob, then louder, more hysterical. Lena laughed, clutching the necklace worth two hundred thousand rubles, maybe even more, while tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Shower gel…” she moaned through her laughter. “A standard Wild Berry set, right, Vadim? So I could soak in the bath and not ask questions?”
She abruptly fell silent. She got up and walked over to the mirror. She held the necklace against her neck. The sapphire shone coldly and mockingly. It suited her. It suited her damn well.
At that moment, the phone on the table chimed. A text from her mother: “Lenochka, hello. The doctor said the sanatorium voucher has gone up in price. I probably won’t be able to go this year; my pension won’t be enough. It’s all right, I’ll get some fresh air at the dacha.”
Lena looked at the screen, then at the necklace. Something clicked inside her. The self-pity that had washed over her first suddenly evaporated, giving way to icy, calculating fury.
She remembered how Vadim had shouted last week that they had no money for new winter boots for her. How he demanded an accounting for every kopeck spent at the grocery store. “We need to save money, Lenusya, times are hard.”
Hard times, then? Sapphires for Little Fish?
Lena wiped away her tears. She carefully placed the necklace back into the box. Then she picked up her phone and dialed the number of her school friend, who worked as an appraiser at a large pawnshop.
“Tanya, hi. Are you working today?”
“Hi, Len. Yes, until eight. What happened? Your voice sounds strange.”
“Tanya, I urgently need to appraise and pawn something. Very expensive. With tags, with a receipt — it’s probably inside the box, under the lining. Vadim always hides it like that.”
“Vadim? You’re selling his gift? Len, is everything okay with you two?”
“Everything is simply wonderful with us, Tanya. Couldn’t be better. I’ll be there in half an hour. Get the cash ready.”
Vadim burst into the apartment closer to midnight. He looked as though he had been run over by a road roller. His tie was crooked, a button was missing from his shirt, and his hair was disheveled. In his hands he clutched the same bag with the cheap shower gel that had been meant for Lena.
The apartment was quiet. The only light was on in the living room.
Lena was sitting in an armchair, reading a book. She was wearing her best house robe, her hair was styled, and a slight smile played on her lips.
Vadim froze in the hallway, breathing heavily. He replayed the events of the evening in his head like a horror film.
His arrival at Veronika’s place—the very “Little Fish.” The anticipation of a passionate night. The ceremonial presentation of the bag. Her squeal of delight… which, within a second, turned into a scream of rage when she pulled out a Chistaya Liniya nettle-scented set.
“Are you mocking me?!” Veronika screamed, throwing a bottle at him. “You promised jewelry! You said this would be a special evening! And you show up with soap from an underpass?! Get out of here and go back to your wife, you miserable cheapskate!”
He had tried to explain. Tried calling the delivery service, but no one picked up. He realized the bags had been mixed up. And then true horror overtook him.
If Veronika had the gel, then the necklace… was with Lena.
And the note. Oh God, the note!
He drove home, rehearsing excuses. He would say it was a joke. That it was for a colleague and he had just been checking the quality. No, nonsense. He would say he had bought it for her, and the note… what idiotic lie could he invent about the note? “Little Fish” was Lena’s affectionate nickname? He had never called her that.
He entered the room prepared for a scandal, for shouting, for broken dishes.
“L-Lena?” His voice treacherously trembled.
Lena raised her eyes from the book. Her gaze was clear and radiant.
“Oh, you’re back? How did the negotiations with the Chinese go? Successfully?”
Vadim swallowed. Why wasn’t she yelling? Maybe she had not opened the bag?
“Yes… difficult. Very difficult. Len, listen… the courier came…”
“He did!” Lena beamed and set the book aside. She stood up and approached her husband. “Vadik, darling, I simply don’t know what to say.”
Vadim tensed, pulling his head into his shoulders.
“I… I wanted a surprise,” she continued, gently stroking the lapel of his jacket. “But this! You outdid yourself.”
“You… liked it?” he asked cautiously, feeling cold sweat run down his back.
“Liked it? Vadim, it’s magnificent! I opened the box and simply froze. A sapphire! My favorite stone. You do remember how I dreamed of something like that, don’t you?”
Vadim’s legs nearly gave out. She thinks it’s for her. She found the necklace. But the note? Did she not see the note? Or did she decide that “Little Fish” was her?
“Well… yes, of course,” he tried to smile, but what came out was a grimace of pain. “I wanted to make you happy. You deserve it. Everything for you, my love.”
He frantically thought it through. Fine, to hell with Veronika. The necklace was a pity, of course, two hundred and fifty thousand down the drain, but at least the marriage was saved. Lena was pleased. There would be no scandal. He had wriggled out of it. Whew.
“And where is it?” he asked, looking around her neck. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“Oh, I tried it on,” Lena nodded. “It sits perfectly. As if it was made for me. But then I thought…”
She walked over to the table and picked up an envelope.
“You see, Vadik, you and I always said that family is the most important thing. That we must support each other and our loved ones.”
“Well, yes…” He did not understand where she was going with this.
“So. You know my mother has lung problems. She urgently needed a good sanatorium. And somehow we never had the money. First your car, then the loans, then ‘hard times.’ And when I saw this gift… I realized how much you love us. You won’t be offended, will you?”
Vadim felt the floor vanish beneath his feet.
“What… what did you do?”
“I sold it,” Lena announced lightly and cheerfully. “To Tanechka from the pawnshop. Of course, they took it at a discount, but the money was enough for a voucher for Mom to Kislovodsk — a deluxe room, full treatment course! — and to pay off the loan for your last phone, and there was even some left for us to live on.”
“You… sold… the necklace?” Vadim whispered. His vision darkened. “You sold the gift?!”
“Oh, don’t be angry!” Lena kissed his pale cheek. “I thought: why do I need that trinket if Mom is unwell? You yourself taught me to be rational. That was the best thing you’ve done in all these years, Vadim. You sacrificed your stash for my mother’s health. I’m proud of you!”
Vadim slid down the wall onto the small hallway pouf. He could not say a word. If he started shouting now that it had been for his mistress, he was dead. If he kept silent, he was an idiot who had blown a quarter of a million to send his mother-in-law to a resort.
“By the way,” Lena’s face suddenly changed. Her smile disappeared, and her gaze turned steely. “What’s in that bag?”
Vadim mechanically clutched the bag of gel to his chest.
“It’s… it’s…”
“It’s that same Wild Berry gel that was supposed to come to me?” Lena stepped toward him. Now coldness radiated from her. “And the note ‘For my beloved Little Fish’ was in the necklace box.”
Vadim froze. She knew. She had known everything from the very beginning.
“Len, I’ll explain everything… it was a joke, it was role-play…”
“Shut up,” she said quietly but very clearly. “The games are over, Vadim.”
She walked to the front door and opened it wide.
“I packed your things. The suitcases are on the landing. You are going to take your shower gel right now, go to your Little Fish—if she still lets you in with that ‘luxurious’ gift—and never show up here again.”
“Lena, you can’t! This is my apartment!”
“Yours?” She laughed. “Have you forgotten that we transferred it to our son’s name when you were hiding from the tax authorities three years ago? I’m his guardian. So formally, you are nobody here. And now—out.”
“But… the money… the necklace…” he babbled, backing into the hallway.
“There is no money,” Lena cut him off. “Mom flies out tomorrow morning. The tickets are non-refundable. Consider it severance pay for fifteen years of my patience.”
She pushed him over the threshold. Vadim stumbled over his own suitcases, lined up in a row by the elevator.
“And yes, Vadim,” she said at last, holding the door handle. “You’re not much of a fish. You’re more like… a crucian carp. Small and bony.”
The door slammed shut with a loud, final click.
Vadim remained standing on the cold stairwell landing. In one hand he held the briefcase from his “Chinese contract,” in the other, a bag with shower gel worth three hundred rubles. And somewhere in a pawnshop lay his future, transformed into a voucher for his hated mother-in-law.
From behind the apartment door came the sound of music. Lena had turned on something lively and loud. It seemed she was finally going to take a bath. With foam. Alone. Without him.