— Masha, don’t pester her, — Sveta chided. — Let her at least take off her coat!
Irina smiled and pulled wrapped gifts from her bag. A book for Denis, a drawing set for Masha. The gifts themselves weren’t as important to the children as simply having a new person in the house to show their drawings to and share school stories with.
In the evening, after the children had gone to bed, the sisters sat in the kitchen with tea. Viktor had also gone to his room to give them some time alone.
— So, tell me, how are you? — Sveta poured tea and pushed a vase of cookies towards her. — It’s one thing over the phone, but in person, you can see things differently.
— I’m fine, — Irina shrugged. — I’m living. Working. Alone now.
— And how is it, being alone?
— It was hard at first. So quiet. Unfamiliar. But now I even like it. No one to annoy me, lie to me, or hide things.
Sveta looked at her sister for a long time, then asked quietly:
— You don’t regret getting divorced?
Irina thought about it. Did she regret it? Sometimes at night, when she woke up in an empty bed, she remembered how they used to fall asleep in each other’s arms. How Andrey would kiss the top of her head before bed. How he would say, “Good night, my love.” That was a long time ago, maybe ten years ago, when they were still close. She missed those times, the love that once was.
— I regret wasting so many years on him, — she finally answered. — But I don’t regret leaving. He betrayed me, Sveta. He wanted to take my home. That’s unforgivable.
— You did the right thing, — Sveta said firmly. — You can’t forgive something like that. He hit rock bottom.
— You know what hurts the most? — Irina wrapped her hands around the hot cup. — He could have just told me. Come and say, ‘Ira, I have problems, debts, I’m in a mess, help me.’ I would have helped. We would have figured something out together. Sold something, taken out a proper loan, together. But he chose to deceive me. Because he’s weak. A coward. It’s easier to forge documents than to confess to your wife.
— Exactly.
They fell silent. Viktor’s snoring could be heard from the other room, and outside, firecrackers popped intermittently—someone was already starting the celebrations early.
— And that old woman, — Sveta leaned closer, — the one who predicted it… did you see her again?
— No. I only called to thank her. She said she was glad I listened.
— It’s some kind of mysticism, — Sveta shook her head. — I don’t usually believe in this stuff, but this is an amazing coincidence.
— I didn’t believe it either. Until this happened. Now I don’t know what to think.
On New Year’s Eve, they all sat together at the table, watched TV, listened to the president’s address, and went out on the balcony to set off fireworks. The children shrieked with delight, Viktor laughed, and Sveta put her arm around Irina’s shoulders. And suddenly, Irina felt something inside her begin to thaw. A warmth that had been missing for many months. Family. This was a real family. Not one where there are lies and betrayal, but this one—noisy, cramped, but honest and loving.
The week flew by. Irina helped her sister with chores, went for walks with the children, and went ice skating with them. Masha skated holding onto her aunt, while Denis zipped across the ice, showing off his skills. Irina watched them and thought: I could have had children too. If things with Andrey had turned out differently. But they didn’t. And now it was too late to think about it.
On January 7th, she returned home. The apartment greeted her with cold and silence. Irina turned on the heating, unpacked her things, and sat on the sofa. Alone again. But this time, the loneliness wasn’t crushing. It was just a fact, as neutral as the weather outside.
At work, she was warmly welcomed. Colleagues congratulated her on the holidays and shared their vacation experiences. Life was returning to its usual rhythm.
In mid-January, Irina received a call from an unknown number. She answered cautiously: what if it was about Andrey again?
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