She never saw Denis or Zoya Pavlovna again. Sometimes, rumors reached her. One of their mutual acquaintances would say that they were living in poverty, constantly arguing, blaming each other for all their troubles. Zoya Pavlovna had completely deteriorated, turning into a cantankerous old woman. Denis started drinking. Alisa didn’t feel sorry for them. She had erased them from her life, like crossing out a bad line in a draft.
She was learning to live again, alone. On weekends, she would drive out of the city, walk in the forest, and breathe the fresh air. She read a lot, went to the theater, and met up with friends. She was rediscovering a world that had been hidden behind the walls of her failed marriage. One day, walking in the park, she saw a young couple. They were sitting on a bench, holding hands, and talking quietly about something. The boy was gently stroking the girl’s hair, and she looked at him with such love that Alisa’s heart ached. She turned away and walked on. It hurt. But this was a different kind of pain. Not the pain of betrayal, but the pain of loneliness. She realized she was ready for a new relationship. But she also realized that she would never again allow anyone to treat her the way she had allowed Denis to. She had learned to value herself. And that was the main lesson she took from this terrible story. A lesson for which she had to pay too high a price.
Two years passed. Alisa’s life settled into a calm, measured rhythm. She still worked at the landscape design studio, but now as a lead specialist. Her projects were valued. Her name was well-known in professional circles. She bought a small but her own apartment with a mortgage in a new building with large windows overlooking a park. She renovated it, furnishing it to her taste: light, minimalist, with lots of air and greenery. She learned to be alone, but she was not lonely. She had her brother, her friends, her beloved job. She traveled a lot, visiting half of Europe, bringing back not only souvenirs from each trip but also new ideas for her gardens and parks.
One cold November evening, she received a call from an unknown number. She didn’t want to answer, but something made her press the green button.
— Hello, — she said.
— Alisa… — a quiet and uncertain male voice came through the phone. — It’s Denis.
She fell silent, not knowing what to say. She hadn’t heard his voice in two years.
— Please don’t hang up, — he spoke quickly. — Just for a minute. I… I wanted to apologize. For real. I know it’s late. I know what I did. But I’ve been thinking all this time. And I understood. I was a complete idiot, blind, deaf. I let my mom destroy everything.
Alisa was silent, listening.
— She… she has cancer, — he said very quietly. — Stage four. The doctors said she has a few months left.
— I’m sorry, — Alisa said sincerely.
— She… she asks for forgiveness too. Says she was wrong. She wants to see you. You know…
Alisa closed her eyes. See Zoya Pavlovna? Why? To relive that horror again?
— I don’t know, Denis, — she answered honestly.
— I understand. I’m not insisting. I just… just passed on her request. How are you? Are you happy?
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