I heard the phone vibrating stubbornly in my purse. I took it out, looked at the screen and read the message. I can’t say that it caused me joyful emotions and a surge of spiritual strength…
— Is this your Timurchik? Galya, with whom I shared a study, asked. — Probably writes that he loves and misses? And he can’t wait to see you…
I heard a slight mockery in her voice.
— Yes, if only! — she replied with an ironic smile and quoted the contents of the sms: “Hello, treasure. Buy sugar and coffee. I love you. Timur.”
— Well, don’t make such a face! He also wrote “I love you,” — said a friend.
“And that explains it all?” We got married just three years ago, and his messages boil down to a shopping list or agreeing on what we’re going to eat for dinner. This is not how it should be… — I stopped talking because Galina giggled. — And what are you laughing at?
“I’m sorry, but it’s actually funny. Are you fifteen years old? It’s only green teenagers and out-of-touch American screenwriters who believe that euphoria can last a lifetime…
“That’s not the point. I would like Timur to at least sometimes openly say what he feels for me, but he, like all men, believes that feelings are evidenced not by words, but by actions.
— Actions are also good. Is not it so? she smiled. — But if you buy sexy underwear and spend the weekend with your husband, you can believe that next week you will not feel a lack of tender words.
I shrugged and went back to work, because I didn’t want to continue this conversation. “What does this Jackdaw know? She doesn’t understand a romantic soul,” she thought irritably, but just in case, she promised herself that on the way home I would stop by a lingerie store. Exactly at 17:00, when we were leaving work, my mobile rang again.
I looked at the screen in surprise: “Hello, my angel! What can I do to see your divine smile again?” I read and was speechless, because this fiery message did not come from my husband, but from some unknown number. I sighed sadly and quickly typed the answer: “I think it’s a mistake. Unfortunately.” To my surprise, a minute later the message appeared again: “Unfortunately? In this case, I am more than sure that this is the right, very right number — the one I need.”
“I’ve found a joker too,” I thought, and went to the store so that my beloved man had coffee for breakfast. And… something hotter.
When I got home, Timur was sitting at the computer, staring at some columns of numbers, tables and graphs.
— Did you buy coffee? — the husband left without any “hello, my treasure” or “how are you, my love”. He didn’t even think to turn his head away from the monitor.
—Yes, my lord,” she replied sarcastically. — I love you very much too!
— What did you say? — he was surprised.
Nothing,” I muttered, because I didn’t want to explain anything to him, and stomped off to cook
— I’m going to a seminar in St. Petersburg on Saturday,
— said my faithful, eating pasta with mushroom sauce.
— On Saturday? Why? — I asked indignantly. Of course, because I had a stunning set of the sexiest underwear in my bag, which I was going to experience on this particular day.
— I could ask the boss to send the Bear, but then he will get the prize, — explained the beloved.
— Money again! Is this the most important thing in life? Why is it necessary to measure everything with these pieces of paper? — reproached her husband.
— Maybe not the main thing, — Timur reluctantly agreed. — But without my bonus, we can forget about a vacation in Tunisia. Unless you’re no longer interested in this trip.
I couldn’t argue with this argument, because I had been dreaming about Tunisia for several years, and Timur knew this very well. I went to bed offended, and the next day I received a strange message in the office again: “Hello, beautiful! I hope you slept well last night?”
I smiled and typed the answer: “Thank you, I’m not complaining about sleep. Do we even know each other?” The next sms appeared with lightning speed: “Are you teasing me on purpose? We met at Julia’s party. Don’t you remember?”
I thought about it. Indeed, two weeks ago Timur and I were at Yulia’s birthday party. But I couldn’t remember most of the faces and surnames because my cousin invited a lot of people to this party. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember…” she wrote hurriedly and read a new message a couple of seconds later: “You’re breaking my heart! You have no idea what I went through to get your number.”
— I see that sexy underwear worked, — Galya noticed, curiously watching how I conduct an active correspondence.
“It’s not what you think,” she explained with some annoyance. — I don’t correspond with my husband…
— So who are you writing to? — she was surprised, sitting down on the edge of my desk.
“Uh, nothing like that,” I was horrified.
— Of course, of course! And “nothing like that” caused a blush on your cheeks and a sparkle in your eyes? Well, tell me what’s the matter… Otherwise I’ll die of curiosity…
— Okay, so be it, — I finally gave up and let her see the messages from my secret admirer.
“I don’t like it,” Galya said, looking accusingly into my eyes.
“Stop it,” I laughed. — After all, this is just an innocent game.
— Did you play? she asked seriously.
— As for me, everything is clear: the man wants you, and you don’t seem to mind.
— Do you mind?! — choking with indignation, I twirled my finger expressively at my temple. — What are you, a Jackdaw? In general, don’t be so correct. I admit that correspondence with this man gives me some pleasure, but this does not mean that I want to sleep with him. Look how I’m going to kick him now! — I finished emotionally, took my mobile and wrote: “I’m sorry, but I’m married, and nothing will come of it.”
Galya looked at the sms and patted me on the shoulder, showing her satisfaction, but my secret admirer did not answer. However, in the evening, when Timur and I were watching TV, everything started all over again. “You know, I have a family too, but my wife and I are unhappy. We live out of habit. You’re different. I miss. I want to see your smile,” I secretly read a hot message from my persistent fan, coming up with an answer on the go.
— What a boring movie. I’d better go to the shower,” she said, turning to her husband. Entering the bathroom, I took out my phone.
“I get sick too… And sometimes it seems that the whole world does not understand me …” — typed a reply message.
A minute later my phone vibrated again: “I would understand you, my angel. Just give me a chance, and you’ll see for yourself that not everything beautiful is behind us yet.”
—Of course,” I muttered, pretending that his messages didn’t make any impression on me, although it wasn’t… I was lying to myself. The same evening, when Timur wanted love, I realized that I was not thinking about him.
— And how is your secret admirer? Haven’t you made yourself known any more? — the curious Galina asked the next day.
– No. I think he took what I wrote to him to heart, – I lied.
There was no work going on all day, but the new acquaintance was gaining momentum. In order not to arouse the neighbor’s interest, I hid my mobile in my pocket, and as soon as the phone started vibrating, signaling the next message, I ran to the toilet to calmly read the SMS and immediately answer it. Unfortunately, the effect was the opposite of what was expected, because a friend began to worry about the state of my health.
— It’s okay! I urged. — A little upset. It will pass –
But I knew that if my phone flirtation lasted a little longer, the Jackdaw would call me an ambulance.
I started answering sms messages less and less often. But it didn’t cool my secret admirer. The less I wrote, the hotter his messages became.
At the weekend, when my husband disappeared from my life for three whole days, the correspondence with my admirer accelerated.
On Saturday, I already knew quite a lot about him: his name was Roman, he was four years older than me, his views and hobbies largely coincided with mine. We both loved Italian cuisine, cycling and hunting sausages. “A real ideal,”
I thought dreamily.
But then I received a message that instantly sobered me up: “My angel, let’s meet.” I knew perfectly well that I couldn’t do it. An innocent flirtation on the phone is one thing, but a date with an unknown man in the absence of her husband is already an abomination. “Sorry, I can’t,” I quickly sent a reply and threw the phone into the corner.
“That’s it, Ilona! Bravo! Be firm. You don’t want to meet him at all!” she praised herself and mentally attached the gold medal “The Most faithful Wife of the Year” to her chest for resisting temptation. Just calmed down, when suddenly my phone came to life again. This time it wasn’t a message, but a call.
— Hello? – I answered hesitantly.
— Ilona, it’s me, Roman. Just please don’t hang up on me. I’m sorry to call, but our meeting is really very important to me.
— Listen, I wrote that this is impossible, — she said in an icy tone.
But that didn’t stop him.
— My angel, I’m not asking for anything indecent. — Damn, he had such a sexy voice! “I just want to talk to you.” And then everyone will go their own way. Let me see you at least one more time. That’s all.
“I’ll think about it,” she answered quietly and ended the conversation with these words.
“Think about it?! God, what an idiot! Why did I say that? After all, I should have rejected him right away. Well, why am I acting like a real fool?!” she cursed herself and took the phone to send a message that would finally end this pseudo-romance. But then a crazy idea suddenly came to my head: “Maybe it would be better to see him? After all, nothing works so well on an inflamed imagination as a cold shower.” I was more than sure that my admirer would turn out to be a plain, balding fat man, and not a macho one. Or rather, I wanted to…
We agreed to meet on the outskirts of the city in a youth cafe, where my friends never look in. “I’m doing this for my husband. For us!” — I thought before going out, but just in case I made myself bright makeup and put on underwear that I bought to seduce Timur. Well…
At exactly eight o’clock I appeared at the agreed place. I found a potential Romance in the crowd: an ordinary man who was also looking at me with obvious interest. I was already walking slowly towards him when suddenly someone put a hand on my shoulder.
Turning around, I saw a tall, dark-skinned brunette who looked like a Latin American. The guy was handsome and well-built, with beautiful dark eyes. In general, in comparison with the others, he looked simply divine!
— A novel? I asked in surprise, and he smiled and motioned me to a small table at the back of the hall.
We talked for three hours. My interlocutor showered me with compliments and complained about his other half, who did not put him in anything. I felt sorry for him. Succumbing to this feeling, I took his hand and said a couple of comforting words. And when parting, I could not just leave him.
— Shall we take a walk? — offered timidly. We walked along the narrow alleys, holding hands. So we reached some small hotel.
— Would you like to come in? — he asked timidly, and I nodded in agreement.
We were both trembling with impatience. They kissed several times in the corridor, and once in the room, they helped each other get rid of their clothes. Seeing my sexy underwear, Roman smiled faintly, as if he had discovered indisputable proof that I planned to spend the night in his arms, and in one strong movement pulled me to him.
By the way, in bed matters he was not at all like Timur. My husband is calm, and there was something wild, unbridled in the Novel… I’ve never made love like this before — passionately and uninhibited, without any brakes. This guy knew how to please a woman.
I woke up in a hotel room on a bed smelling of sex. My wonderful lover looked much worse in daylight than at night. Or did he seem more beautiful to me yesterday after drinking glasses of wine? Or maybe it was remorse that robbed him of his former charm? Don’t know. In any case, I quickly gathered up the things scattered on the floor and got dressed, and then wrote a short note to the subject of the night passion: “What happened, happened. Don’t look for me anymore. Goodbye. Ilona.”
When I got home, I stood in the shower for a long time, trying to wash off the smell of someone else’s body. It seemed that the guilt would wash away with him. The first turned out well for me, but the second — alas. All Sunday I tormented myself, asking how I could have allowed this intimacy, and in such an absurdly short time, because less than a week had passed from the first sms to the passionate night.
When Timur returned, I went to bed, feigning an acute migraine attack. I didn’t have the courage to look my husband in the eye. I hoped that Roman heeded my request and disappeared from my life.
After a couple of weeks, I somehow managed to get used to the idea of what I had done. Although I still had a nasty feeling for myself. But I sincerely repented of what I had done and mentally promised Timur that I would never betray him again in my life. Paradoxically, thanks to this spontaneous betrayal, my husband and I experienced our second honeymoon, being almost in paradise.
Time passed, and gradually I calmed down, deciding that my ugly offense had sunk into oblivion. And suddenly Roman called me on my mobile again. I saw his number on the display, and my heart sank with fear. Lord, why is he looking for me?
Of course, I didn’t answer, but Roman kept calling and calling. Finally, having plucked up the courage, I decided to talk to him. I wanted to make it clear that there will be no repetition, to explain that I love my husband and will not allow any more infidelities!
“Hi,” she said rather dryly.
—Hello, my angel,” Roman replied in a completely unfamiliar voice.
— What did you want? — she continued, trembling with indignation. — After all, I wrote to you so that you would not look for meetings with me anymore. Is it really that hard to understand?!
“I’m sorry, but I had to call you,” he said so seriously that my legs suddenly gave way. It was a premonition of trouble. “Look, I don’t know how to say this… In short, my wife was unfaithful to me too…
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but what does this have to do with me?”
Well…— Roman stumbled, — she caught something and, of course, infected me. And then we met. In short, you should go to the doctor and get examined urgently…
Cursing, I nervously disconnected the phone. “I’ll have to tell Timur about everything. But how? — I thought, choking back tears. — Brainless fool! Who did I ruin my family for?! I thought that flirting with a man on the phone, I could stop at any moment. And here is the result!”
Today I know that my poor health is a consequence of a progressive illness. It seems that Timur has the same problem. The doctor warned me that I need to tell my husband the truth immediately, otherwise the disease will worsen. But how can I confess to him of treason?! And what if Timur divorces me when he finds out about everything? In his place, I would definitely not forgive this. Or maybe he’ll feel sorry for me after all? I dare not dream of anything else now…