I was reading a magazine on the couch when my husband approached me and said calmly:
— I want to have a serious talk with you. I’ve been seeing another woman for the past six months. I want to leave you, file for divorce, and live with her.
— Alright, do you need help packing your things?
My husband was stunned.
— You’re not going to ask me anything? How this happened, why I decided to leave after 25 years of marriage? Just a cold “alright”?
— We’ve been married for 25 years. I know you inside and out. You think I didn’t notice you found another woman? Honestly, I thought you’d leave sooner. You held out longer than I expected.
My husband fell silent. I calmly went to the storage room, pulled out a suitcase, and started packing his things.
— John, are you taking all your stuff or just the newer things?
He mumbled something under his breath and then said:
— Leave it, I’ll pack everything myself.
— Suit yourself.
Half an hour later, he came into the room and said:
— Well, I’m leaving.
— Alright, leave the apartment keys!
He looked at me questioningly.
— Are you taking the car?
— Yes, I’m taking it.
— The car’s yours, the apartment’s mine. So, give me the apartment keys.
His face turned red at my audacity, and he said:
— The car is worth way less than the apartment.
— John, I’m not the one leaving you—you’re leaving me. The one who stays keeps the apartment.
He wanted to argue, but I gave him a look that stopped him. He silently placed the keys on the table.
And so, my husband left, offended, into the unknown.
A couple of days later, my friend called and asked why my husband was in her neighborhood.
— He’s living there, — I replied.
— Living? With whom?
I told her everything, and she judged me:
— How could you? You didn’t even try to convince him to stay or fight for him?
— Why would I? I’m 50 years old, not some young girl chasing after someone. Even if I tried, I’d probably fall apart halfway, — I said, joking.
— But the apartment? He’s right, you bought it together. He has a claim to it too.
— Sarah, are you his lawyer now? Or maybe my husband ran off to you?
— Oh, come on. I just feel bad for him. He looked so sad.
— That’s his problem now. I didn’t kick him out; it was his choice. You know I never nagged him or made his life difficult. Guess he wanted some excitement. Let him get it in his new relationship.
Two weeks later, John called:
— Lisa, my Chinese ointment is running out. Could you order more for me, please? I’ll send you the money.
— John, no problem, I’ll order it, but this is the last time. I’ll send you the link or explain to your new lady where I get it.
The thing is, my almost-ex-husband never ordered anything online and was terrified of such purchases.
— Thanks, Lisa.
— So, when are we filing for divorce?
I don’t know if John heard me or deliberately hung up, but I never got an answer.
Did I worry when my husband left? Of course! The first few nights, I couldn’t even sleep. But then I thought it over and decided it was time to live for myself. The kids are grown, no grandkids yet, so I have time to focus on me.
A month and a half later, John came by for the ointment. He looked gaunt, pale, his shirt wrinkled. He seemed like a lost man, not a “newlywed.” I was just about to have dinner and decided to offer him some:
— John, I made borscht. Want to join me for dinner?
— I’d love to, — he said, perking up.
I served him a hearty bowl of borscht, just how he likes it, with a big dollop of sour cream and some chopped herbs. I always serve garlic rolls and salo with mustard alongside borscht. John ate and even asked for seconds, so I gave him more.
After eating, he was about to leave when he suddenly burst into tears:
— Lisa, please let me come back. I made a mistake. I don’t love that woman. I’m miserable there. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep—I’ll die there. Please let me come home.
I hugged my husband, kissed him on the forehead, and forgave him. My dear one came back home.
We’re about to celebrate 30 years of marriage soon. After his mistake, my husband has become so much more attentive: he gives me gifts, kisses and hugs me constantly, and showers me with compliments. I’ve forgiven everything and don’t even want to dwell on the past. What matters is the present, not the past or the future! Live in the moment, people, and remember: everything happens for a reason!
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