Alisa covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing out loud. I, on the other hand, felt a pang of icy satisfaction.
— Ma’am, you seem to have the wrong number, — I said with polite coldness. — I was speaking to my husband, Yegor Petrov. And you are, forgive me, who?
— I, I… — She stammered, at a loss for words. — I’m the one he wants to be with, not some old hag like you. So give our money back. Yegor promised me a fairy tale.
— Our money? — I chuckled. — Sweetheart, I earned that money over eight years while your Yegor was mooching off me and telling me fairy tales about his genius startups. So, if we’re being technical, it’s my money. And for a fairy tale, you need to talk to someone else.
— Why you! — she hissed, but Yegor apparently took the phone back from her.
— Lera, I’m begging you! — His voice had changed. There were pleading notes in it now. — Don’t do this! Give us at least enough for the hotel and the return tickets!
— Us? — I mimicked him. — You’re still saying “we”? Yegor, do you seriously think that girl will stay with you when she finds out you don’t have a dime? She’ll dump you right there, in the middle of the lobby of that fancy hotel you can’t pay for.
I could hear them starting to bicker with each other on the line.
— What does she mean? — Snezhana shrieked. — Yegor, you said you had it all figured out, that you were rich!
— Calm down, baby, it’s a misunderstanding.
— What misunderstanding? They’re going to throw us out of here! I’m not going to sit in this hole without any money!
Listening to their squabble was the best music to my ears. Their perfect plan, their fairy-tale escape, was crumbling before their very eyes. The alliance of traitors was falling apart at the seams.
— You know, Yegor, — I said, interrupting their argument, — it seems you have trouble in paradise. But that’s not my problem anymore. Tell your sweetheart that everything in life has a price, especially other people’s husbands. Don’t call me again.
I ended the call and leaned back in my chair. Alisa was looking at me with a mixture of admiration and horror.
— Lera, you’re a devil! — she breathed.
— No, — I shook my head. — I’m just a good bank employee.
The next call came late at night. I woke up to the persistent vibration of the phone on the nightstand. The number was unfamiliar, but I had a guess who it was. He must have found a way to call through some messenger app. I answered the phone and remained silent.
— Hello, Lera? — The voice was quiet, broken, completely unlike my husband’s confident tone. There was no screeching from Snezhana in the background, no noise from an expensive hotel, just a kind of dull, ringing silence.
— What do you want, Yegor? — I asked without any emotion.
— Lera, forgive me, — he whispered, and I heard him sob — a real, pathetic, masculine sob. — Forgive me, I’m such a fool, such a scoundrel!
I was silent. I didn’t feel sorry for him, not one bit. I just listened to the man I once loved fall apart…
