Vera the Mistress. Валентина Басан
What happened? Doctor, I felt very well. I had excellent tests. It's been so many months, what's the problem?
– Verochka, I am very sorry to inform you that you can no longer have children. Inflammatory processes in the uterus caused fever and dizziness. You passed out in the restaurant bathroom. You were discovered by Oleg Bryantsev's wife, Arina. She was the one who brought you in her car. You should be grateful to her now. If not she, I don't know how it would have ended…
Vera couldn't believe her ears, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Nightmare. Nightmare. She pinched herself painfully, and her vision went dark.
"I don't understand, I don't remember…"
"That's normal. At a high temperature, it happens so that to save energy, the body shuts down for a more important, in simple terms, fight. Now everything is fine, rest. The discharge papers will be ready tomorrow, and today you will take another blood test, and the nurse will measure your blood pressure and temperature. If everything is all right, you'll be home by tomorrow night.
Oleg's phone was disconnected or out of network coverage. Vera dialed the number she knew by heart over and over again with a stubborn, stupid persistence until she was exhausted.
– Hello, Vika, hi. It's alright. Can you come tomorrow to two on the Dnieper Promenade 180, I'll send the address? No, nothing serious. I'm being discharged from the clinic. Thank you, see you tomorrow – last word Klimova said hysterically, the voice wavered and she instantly hung up.
Vera didn't want to feel sorry for herself, she was afraid to start and then not stop. She texted the address of the clinic to a friend, put the empty battery phone on the charger, wrote to her worried mother on her twenty messages "mom, a lot of work, I can't call for a few more days, we rent objects, love, and kiss, hello to dad", turned to the wall with unusual patterns and silently howled.
VikaVolokh, a colleague, and friend was tall, blond, and green-eyed, as precise as a Swiss watch. Filling the clinic's lobby with the aroma of fresh pastries, coffee, and expensive perfume, she gave Vera a businesslike look, introduced herself as a sister, and received all the documents and statements. Vera, like a faded carnation on a monument, leaned against the reception desk, suddenly noticed a familiar silhouette in the distance along the corridor. The girl went to the head doctor's door, but the secretary beat her to it.
– Sorry, Anatoly Ivanovich is busy right now.
"I'm sorry, I…"
– Yes. Klimova, Vera Sergeevna. Anatoly Ivanovich has already signed the documents for your discharge.
"I just wanted to say thanks and say goodbye."
– The doctor has a consultation now, I'm sorry, you can't see him.
Vera had already turned to leave when the communicator on the secretary's desk asked for two coffees in the voice of the chief doctor.
"And juice, Tosha, I need fresh juice," the voice on the speakerphone said with a loud laugh.
– Dasha, bring two coffees and fresh orange juice, please.
– Of course, Anatoly Ivanovich.
– Vera Sergeevna? – the secretary has already left the table and addressed the girl, – Can I help you with anything else?
"No, no, thank you. Tell me, who is in Anatoly Ivanovich's office now?
– This is closed information, – Daria shrugged her shoulders and swam to make coffee and fresh orange juice on perfectly long and straight legs for her boss and ArinaBryantseva, Oleg's wife.
Vika made tea with berries and melissa, put the tray on the small coffee table, and sat down on the sofa next to Vera.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Are you going to be silent for a long time?" What happened?
– 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?
Vicki's green eyes burned with righteous fire. She was standing in the corridor in one boot and an unbuttoned raincoat. 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 lighter as if a heavy stone had fallen from her shoulders and was pressing her to the ground. A secret affair with a married man was no longer just her secret.
But for some reason, Vika was more interested in his wife than in Oleg.
"Verushka, 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 Andreevich, was an elementary womanizer and a freak. But that doesn't mean it's not my fault. Guilty, Ver, of course, guilty. A twenty-year-old naive fool who fell for the sweet speeches, speeches, and empty 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 ValentinaVladimirovna, 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 on 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 Andreevich 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, Verunchik, 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.
Vera never talked to her friend about her personal life. She knew the Volokh family, sometimes went to birthday parties, but always alone. Vera was silent about her married lover, and Vika pretended not to notice her secretive personal life. Vera did not know that in the past, Victoria had such an instructive and difficult story, although with a happy