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Vera the Mistress - стр. 14

– Nothing. All right.

Vika nodded and went into the hall.

"Where are you going?" Vera got up weakly from the sofa and threw off the blanket, shivering, although there was no temperature.

– Home.

– Vika, wait, and tea?

Always temperamental and cheerful friend exploded like a bomb:

– Tea? What kind of tea, Vera? You're in a clinic, you've had fainting spells, surgery, and abortion, which, by the way, is not listed in this statement. It's listed in the history of your medicine cabinet. What the hell, friend? Are you a normal person? Why don't I know anything?

Vicka's green eyes burned with righteous fire. She was standing in the corridor in one boot and an unbuttoned raincoat. She was angry, brave, and beautiful.

"Vic, I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you, it's embarrassing and painful.

"So I'm a stranger to you?"

– No, not a stranger, sorry, – Vera sighed and trudged to the sofa, she took the cup and took a small sip, then resolutely took a deep breath.


Vika listened with her mouth open, still sitting on the sofa in her raincoat, her boot in her hands, having forgotten to take it to the corridor. Vera told about Oleg, about their secret affair, which lasts more than a year, told about the abortion, about travel, about calls from his wife, meeting, and events of the last days.

Twilight faded into the late evening, and then into the night. The girls were sitting on the sofa, one occasionally crying and falling silent, while the other only nodded sympathetically and shook her head.

Vera finished her story and covered her face with her hands. She felt ease and lightness as if a heavy stone that had been pressing her to the ground fell from her shoulders. A secret affair with a married man was no longer just her secret.

But for some reason, Vika was more interested in his wife’s charitable actions than in Oleg.

"Vera, dear, this is not the worst thing, believe me. We all make mistakes. You're still young, but I'm five years older than you, and I once slept with a married man.

Vera looked at her friend gratefully. She knew that Vika was telling all this to comfort her, but saint Vika, the mother of an equally fair four-year-old beauty daughter and the wife of a famous Moscow lawyer, could not be….

– Yes, before I met Misha, I worked as a designer in Novosibirsk, you know, but you don't know why I moved to Moscow. My boss, Roman, was an elementary womanizer and freak. But that doesn't mean it's not my fault. I am guilty, of course, guilty as a sin. I was naive twenty-year-old fool who fell for the sweet speeches, words, and velvet chatter of an elderly ladies ' man. Naturally, at the corporate party, it happened right in his office. It was later that I found out that all our women's team had been there before me, including the accountant Valentina, his age, with whom he had had affairs twenty years ago when both were young and hot. His wife, who had long endured his infidelities and debauchery, for some reason went berserk with me. Not only did she make a scene at my house in front of my parents, but she also brought her children to work so they could see "daddy's new whore." The entire team was in shock, each with fear thought that in my place could be it. But many of our women also had families and children. My affair with Roman ended with a couple of times of dubious quality of comfort in the office before it had time to begin and flourish. The hero-lover cowardly suggested that I write of my own accord, which I did with great pleasure. My parents calmed me down and blessed me for Moscow. And I am happy that I came here. Here I met Misha, my love, my happiness. But he has not yet shown me his documents and passport with an empty column about marital status, I even forbade him to kiss. We're still laughing. He, by the way, that's why he married me, said that he had never seen anyone like me. And I told him that I had vowed never to have any personal dealings with married men in my life.

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