– Masha, are you nearly ready? Karina and Fyodor will be here any minute, – Sergei said impatiently, peeking into the bedroom.
– Just a moment, – Masha replied without turning from the mirror on the wardrobe door.
She glided lipstick over her lips, shook her head lightly to tousle her perfectly styled hair, adjusted the neckline of her dress, and only then turned to face her husband.
– Ready, – she smiled.
– Wow! You’re absolutely stunning, – Sergei stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace.
– Careful, the lipstick, – Masha leaned her head back from his chest, glancing at him tenderly, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
– Masha… – Sergei’s voice dropped, but just then, the doorbell rang. – Of course. – He sighed, loosened his arms, and went to answer it.
Masha gave herself one last glance in the mirror, smoothed her dress, and followed him.
In the hallway, Fyodor was already laughing loudly, clutching an enormous bouquet of roses. Beside him stood his wife, Karina, holding a gift bag.
– Where’s the birthday girl? – Fyodor boomed, rustling the bouquet’s wrapping. He spotted Masha and stepped toward her. – Finally! Masha, you look radiant as ever. Sergei, watch out—I might just steal her. – He planted a loud kiss on her cheek before handing over the flowers. – I wish you…
– Alright, get your coat off first, save the toast for dinner, – Sergei cut in.
– Sergei, fetch the slippers. I’ll put these in water, – Masha said, heading to the kitchen.
The flat immediately filled with noise and chatter. Fyodor rubbed his hands together as he surveyed the laden dinner table.
– Masha, you’re a magician. This spread is incredible. I might drown in my own drool, – he groaned theatrically.
– You’ll have to hold on a little longer, – Masha replied, carrying in a vase for the roses. She set them on the coffee table by the window.
– Clown, – Karina muttered under her breath, rolling her dark eyes.
Masha rested a hand on her shoulder, as if to soothe her. The doorbell rang again, and Masha went to greet the new guests.
– This is Laura, and this is my sister Masha, – Max introduced them, handing Masha a bouquet.
– Lovely to meet you, – Masha smiled. Laura barely nodded. – Sorry, we’re out of spare slippers.
– No matter, Laura can have mine, – Max said.
Masha shot her brother a questioning look—What on earth do you see in her?
– Lead the way, little sis, – Max said, oblivious to her expression.
They joined the others in the dining room.
– You all know my brother, and this is Laura, his new girlfriend, – Masha announced. – You take it from here, she whispered to Max before slipping back to the kitchen with the bouquet.
No vase was left, so Masha placed the flowers in a litre jug and left them on the counter.
When she returned, everyone was seated. Sergei gestured for her to take the head of the table. As she sat, Masha noticed Fyodor and Karina had seated themselves apart, on opposite sides.
Sergei had already poured whisky for the men and wine for the women. Laura sat rigidly, indifferent to the room’s energy. Max piled salad onto her plate, but she barely noticed.
“Blimey, she’s like ice. Max has had girlfriends before, but none this lifeless…” Masha’s thoughts were interrupted as Sergei stood, glass in hand, and began his toast, gazing at her with warmth.
The room hushed. Glasses clinked, followed by the scrape of cutlery.
Masha scanned the table. Fyodor ate heartily, praising her cooking while stealing glances at Karina, who stared at her plate, ignoring him. Laura chewed slowly, detached. Max whispered in her ear. Sergei kept the drinks flowing. “See? Everything’s fine. You worried for nothing,” his eyes said.
Masha relaxed. Once the guests had eaten their fill, Sergei fetched his guitar from the bedroom. After tuning it, he began to sing—”You Are My Only One.” His voice was rich, smooth, and full of feeling. Everyone knew he was singing for Masha.
She swayed lightly in her chair, then joined in. Their voices harmonised perfectly. When the song ended, there was a brief silence before requests poured in.
Sergei strummed the opening chords to *Starry Eyed and Laughing*, Masha’s favourite.
Mid-song, Karina stood abruptly and slipped into the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.
– Brilliant, mate. That deserves a drink, – Fyodor said as the last note faded.
– I’ll get the roast, – Masha whispered to Sergei before following Karina.
Karina stood by the open window, cigarette in hand.
– What’s wrong? – Masha asked, joining her.
Karina exhaled a slow stream of smoke. The cigarette trembled between her fingers. Ash fell onto the sill—she brushed it away, smearing it instead.
– You used to love Sergei’s singing. Why leave? – Masha pressed.
– I still do, – Karina said, glancing back at the door.
From the dining room, an off-key chorus of male voices rose—Fyodor’s booming above the rest.
– Can you do me a favour? – Karina asked abruptly.
– Money? – Masha ventured.
– It’s not about money. – Karina took a deep drag, exhaling sharply. – Did you and Fyodor fight?
– Masha, – Karina checked the door again, then flicked her cigarette out the window. – I’ve fallen for someone. Completely lost my head.
– Karina… What about Fyodor?
– What’s Fyodor got to do with it? – Karina said, too loud, then lowered her voice. – What’s Fyodor got to do with it?
– But you’ve got a family. A son.
– Things haven’t been right between us for ages.
– Does he suspect?
– Probably. – She shrugged.
Masha waited.
– A new doctor joined our ward a few weeks ago, – Karina continued. – From the countryside. The moment I saw him, I knew I was done for. I swap shifts just to work with him. Disgusted? – She turned, searching Masha’s face.
– Just… unexpected. What now?
– I can’t live without him. If it weren’t for my son… We met at Mum’s while she was at her spa retreat. But she came back three days ago, and now—we’ve nowhere to go. – The last words came out like smoke.
Masha bit her lip, listening.
– You and Sergei are out all day, no kids. There’s no one else I can ask.
– That’s a low blow, bringing up kids.
– Sorry, I didn’t think.
– You want to use our flat? Is that it?
– Just for a couple of hours, now and then. Please. Why won’t you answer?
Masha couldn’t look at her. She remembered how lovesick Fyodor had been, how he’d agonised over winning the beautiful, dark-eyed girl, terrified she’d refuse him.
– Doesn’t this doctor have his own place? Oh—he’s married.
– So? That changes nothing. We’re in love. I can’t breathe without him. I never thought this could happen. My heart’s in pieces. When I see him, nothing else exists. My pulse races so loud, I’m sure everyone hears—
– No, – Masha cut in sharply, turning her back to the window. – Ask for anything else—money, babysitting—but not my keys.
Sergei poked his head in.
– Girls, what’s keeping you? We’re waiting on— Oh. – Catching Masha’s pleading look, he retreated.
– What are you thinking? Fyodor’s a good husband, a great father. And your son? He’ll never forgive—
– He’ll understand when he’s older.
– I don’t get it. Have your fling, but why wreck everything? What if Fyodor finds out? Or Sergei? They’ve been mates since uni. Helping you means betraying them. Come on, this is awkward.
She grabbed oven gloves and pulled out the roast—her signature dish. Karina held the door as Masha carried it through.
– Finally! We were withering away in here, – Fyodor slurred, well into his cups.
Masha set the dish down. Fyodor watched Karina, willing her to meet his gaze. Laura remained stiff, indifferent. Max drank quietly.
As she served, Masha seethed. Karina had soured the evening. The room had fallen quiet; even Fyodor’s jokes had dried up. Karina proddedFyodor turned to leave, a shadow of his former self, but before the door closed behind him, Masha whispered, “If love were easy, it wouldn’t be worth fighting for,” and for the first time that night, Karina’s eyes filled with tears.
