“I had seen them before,” the gypsy woman rocked the baby. “I saw him kiss her in the car. Saw them several times when I was sitting here. I realized you didn’t know anything when you approached.”
“Why did you help me?” Katya asked. “You didn’t even know me.”
The gypsy woman smirked.
“My sister also took my husband. A long time ago. I know what it’s like. I thought, at least you should have time to prepare, so it wouldn’t hurt as much.”
“Here…” Katya trailed off, taking out her wallet. “Please, take this.”
The gypsy woman shook her head.
“No need.”
“There is,” Katya put the money in the box. “Thank you. Really.”
The gypsy woman nodded.
Katya stood up, walked towards her building. She looked back: the gypsy woman was watching her, rocking the baby. At home, Katya unpacked her bags, made dinner. Sat by the window with a cup of tea. It was getting dark outside. The city was lighting up.
She thought about the past month. About how her mother had called, screamed, accused her of cruelty. About how Lena sent messages from other people’s numbers, begging for forgiveness, saying it was all Andrey who seduced her. About how Andrey tried to come back, saying it was a mistake, that he only loved Katya. She didn’t answer a single call. Didn’t let any of them back into her life.
Katya got up, went to the shelf. Took out a photo album. Opened it to the first page: there she was as a little girl, holding Lena. Here they were together at school. Here was Lena’s graduation, Katya standing next to her, hugging her sister’s shoulders. She closed the album, put it back on the shelf. The past was in the past. A new life was ahead. Lonely, but honest. Without betrayal, without lies.
Katya turned off the light, went to bed. Outside, the city was noisy, music was playing somewhere, someone was laughing. She closed her eyes and, for the first time in a long time, fell asleep peacefully.
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