It’s still the same restaurant, the best in our town. All the same hall in which I have been so many times in the same company of my husband’s friends and colleagues. I know everyone, everyone knows me, but even more everyone knows my husband, who turned another milestone today.
In addition to health resorts, congratulations on conquering the next “peak” in life – my husband bought a huge three-story mansion in the country, and this is now the main topic of conversation at the table. Everyone admires my husband, and in traditional toasts they pour in endless oil about how he raised three sons, built (that’s what they call it now) a house, and grew trees around the house (they brought them in from the nursery a week ago).
There were noises of admiration for my husband’s successes at work and wishes not to rest on his achievements, but for some reason no one said a single word about me, sitting next to my husband and being in his majestic shadow for thirty years… No one raised a glass “for a reliable rear”, there were no speeches about the comfort, family warmth and care that was always waiting at my home. There was only him – who had achieved so much…
He enjoyed the speeches of the guests and did not pay any attention to me, automatically clinking his glass. He wasn’t paying attention, as he hadn’t for many, many years, when he started to go to one achievement after another, setting himself the goal of earning a bigger apartment, a more prestigious car, a trip to the ocean, yes, the whole family, but only so that later he could brag: “We went to the islands, and what, I’ve earned it, I have the right! Where I want to go or children, my husband never cared. The main thing – his desire for direction.
It seemed to me that he only thought of me and the kids in this restaurant hall, which had bored the hell out of me, gathering the company for birthdays. Yes, everything was beautiful, even chic, only it wasn’t gifts, it was the need to hear, once again, what a great guy the head of our family was, what a party he was throwing for us!
The fact that he was almost never in the family, no one cared. It was those three or four hours in the restaurant that were the most important and meaningful. And I humbly endured, because outwardly everything was so beautiful, my husband really tried to earn for the family, we did not deny ourselves anything, but we did not communicate with each other for days, weeks, months, years …
The children grew up unnoticed, and now they are sitting next to their father, tensely waiting to finally get away from this annual obligation.
Tired of listening to my husband’s praise, I went out on the terrace. No sooner had a light cigarette reached the halfway point than my youngest son came running in, “Mom, Daddy’s calling for a picture!” Oh yes, I completely forgot, there is another very important moment at these events – a group picture with rubber smiles stretched up to the ears…
I stood next to my husband, dutifully showed impeccably snow-white teeth to the camera, and once again became useless…
At last the senior manager came up to my husband and reminded him that the restaurant was closing in half an hour. They started playing up the phrases “what’s the matter, just talking!”, “why so early?”, etc. Everybody knew very well that we would have to call it a day, and a cab was booked in advance…
Our driver came to pick us up, took us to the new mansion, where we scattered to our bedrooms. My husband, without even wishing me good night, waved, “How tired I am!” and went to bed.
I still looked at our old pictures for a long time, wondering why indifference no longer surprised us. I was even acquainted with my husband’s mistress, but I pretended not to know about their relationship. It was convenient for everyone, even my mother insisted on it: “So what, so what, a mistress! Who doesn’t!” She probably wanted to add, “And you get yourself a lover!” but she shivered when she saw my reaction.
Flipped through the photos, looked at his page on FB, someone sent quotes from famous philosophers, ran my eyes and came across what I thought: “Do not make life easier for anyone, if it does not allow you to be yourself.
A decision that had matured long ago began to become a reality. I opened apartment ads and, knowing the amount on my bank card, wrote down the phone number of a realtor. I liked this small one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of the city. I realized that it was where I could become myself again, not a free appendage of my husband.
