Dina had always loved inviting friends over since she was a little girl. Her mother never minded—she was the same way. For as long as Dina could remember, their home was always filled with her mother’s friends, especially on Sundays. Birthdays were never quiet affairs either.
Her father, a quiet man, never objected to the visits. Sometimes he’d join them for tea, cracking the odd joke, but more often than not, he’d tinker away in the garage. He had few friends of his own—just the neighbours, really.
Dina adored how her mother’s friends would drop by unannounced, always welcomed with tea or coffee. Wine was reserved for special occasions. When they visited, the house was alive with laughter—sometimes even singing.
*”Mum, can Rita and Vera come over?”* she’d ask.
*”Of course, love. There’s biscuits and sweets on the table—help yourself if you like,”* her mother would say before leaving for work.
If too much time passed without visitors, her mother would bake a pie and sigh, *”I’ll invite Anne and Auntie Ethel from next door. Dina, run and fetch them, will you?”*
That was just how life was. At university, Dina brought friends home on weekends, sometimes even for holidays—always with her mother’s blessing. The habit of hospitality stuck with her.
She married Oleg, a fellow student, in her final year. They set up their own home, and Dina kept inviting friends over. Oleg resisted at first, but soon gave in.
*”Oleg, my family always had guests. I’m used to it—you don’t mind if we have people round sometimes, do you?”*
*”My mother never liked visitors,”* he admitted. *”If my father ever brought a friend home, there’d be a row all evening. But if it makes you happy, fine.”*
In time, they settled into a rhythm, choosing their guests together. But Oleg never warmed to one of Dina’s friends—Toni. A widow, she carried a quiet sorrow.
*”Why do you bother with her?”* he’d grumble. *”She’s as cheerful as a rainy Monday. If she won’t laugh, what’s the point?”*
*”She listens,”* Dina countered. *”And she gives good advice. I trust her. Not everyone has to be the life of the party.”*
Oleg only scoffed. *”Dull as ditchwater, that one.”*
Years passed. They built a larger house, had a son, and Dina still gathered with her friends. Sometimes they took the children out, but mostly they stayed in—there was plenty of room.
Two of Dina’s friends lived with their mothers-in-law, so visits there were hushed affairs. Only Liz had her own place with her husband and son, yet she still preferred coming to Dina’s. Occasionally, the husbands joined—lingering in the garage or the garden shed over a pint.
One day, Toni spoke up over tea.
*”Dina… be careful with Liz. She’s too interested in your husband.”*
*”Don’t be silly,”* Dina laughed. *”She’s just lively, likes a joke!”*
But the words niggled at her.
*”Maybe she’s jealous,”* she mused later. *”My mother always said to steer clear of lonely friends. Perhaps I should distance myself.”*
She even mentioned it to Oleg.
*”I told you she was odd,”* he said.
Eventually, Dina cut ties with Toni—yet nothing changed. Life rolled on. They still met with friends, helped each other with childcare—Dina often collected Liz’s son, Mikey, from nursery when Liz was held up at work.
One afternoon, Dina ran into Liz at the nursery. They decided to take the boys to the park, but as they walked, Mikey piped up:
*”Mum, is Uncle Oleg coming over today? He brought me crisps yesterday.”*
Liz flushed, said nothing. Dina frowned—*her* husband was also Oleg.
*”Plenty of Olegs in the world,”* she told herself. After all, her Oleg had been at his brother’s the night before—helping move furniture, he’d said, returning late.
Liz fumbled with her phone, claiming it was dead when Dina offered hers. Then she hurried off, muttering about visiting her mother. Dina went home, uneasy.
Later, she called her sister-in-law.
*”Kate, did you buy furniture yesterday? Oleg said he was helping you.”*
*”Oleg? He wasn’t here,”* Kate replied, puzzled. *”We didn’t buy anything. Why?”*
Dina’s stomach dropped. That evening, Oleg left his phone behind when he went to the garage. A message lit up the screen—from Liz.
*”Mikey slipped up. He mentioned you were here yesterday—in front of Dina.”*
Dina stormed into the garage, shoving the phone at him.
*”What. Is. This?”*
Oleg read it, sighed. *”No point lying. I was there.”*
She’d expected denials, excuses—not this.
*”You *bastard*! And her—I never thought—”* She fled inside.
Later, Oleg followed, begging. *”Let’s forget this. Pretend it never happened. I admitted it—it won’t happen again. Just… drop Liz. We’ll go back to normal.”*
*”Normal?!”* Dina recoiled. *”You *cheated*. I’ll never trust you again. And Toni—she *warned* me, and I cut her off!”*
She packed his things and left them at the door. That night, Oleg didn’t come home. The next day, Liz waylaid her at the nursery.
*”Dina, it’s not what you think—I sent that text to the wrong Oleg!”*
*”You’re no friend of mine,”* Dina said coldly. *”And he’s no husband. We’re done.”*
Liz shouted after her, *”Fine! I’ll have him then!”*
She wasn’t wrong. Soon enough, Oleg moved in with Liz, playing stepfather to Mikey while her own husband was tossed aside.
One Saturday, Dina bought a cake and a small gift, then knocked on Toni’s door.
*”Toni… I’m sorry. You tried to tell me, and I… Well. Oleg and Liz *were* sneaking around. I’m divorcing him. Forgive me?”*
Toni hugged her. *”I’d have doubted too. Come in—let’s have tea.”*
They talked and laughed, little Stevie keeping them entertained. Some betrayals, after all, are as old as time. Such is life.
