JUST IN CASE Vera glanced at her tearful colleague, turned indifferently back to her computer, and began typing rapidly. “You’re heartless, Vera,” came the voice of Olga, their manager. “Me? What makes you say that?” “Well, just because your personal life is all sunshine and rainbows doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else. You see the poor girl’s beside herself—you could at least show a bit of sympathy, offer some advice, maybe share your experience. Things are going so well for you, after all.” “Me? Share my experience? With her? I doubt our dear Nadia would appreciate that. I did try, you know—about five years ago, when she started showing up to work with black eyes ‘to help her see the road in the morning,’ as she claimed. You weren’t here yet back then. And no, it wasn’t her boyfriend beating her up—she just had a knack for ‘falling over’ at just the right angle. Funny thing, once he rode off into the sunset, the bruises vanished, and he was the third guy to do so. That’s when I decided to try supporting her, to offer a bit of wisdom, as it were. And guess what? I was the villain in the story. Later, my other colleagues clued me in—supporting Nadia is a lost cause. She always ‘knows best’ and hates anyone who meddles in her happiness. She used to run to fortune-tellers, casting love spells; now she’s moved with the times and goes to therapists to ‘work through her trauma.’ She doesn’t realize she’s living the same story over and over—only the names change. So please forgive me, but I won’t be weeping or passing out tissues.” “Still, Vera,” Olga said, “that’s not right.” At lunch, as everyone sat around the same table, all anyone could talk about was Nadia’s ex—the rogue, the cheater. Vera quietly ate her lunch, poured herself a coffee, and retreated to a corner, scrolling through her socials to clear her mind. “Vera,” cheerful, plump Tanya sidled up, her usually bubbly face looking glum today, “don’t you feel even a little bit sorry for Nadia?” “Tanya, what do you want from me?” “Oh, leave her be,” said passing Irina, “Vera’s got her dear Vasily, lives like a queen—she wouldn’t know what it’s like to be left alone with a child, to have no help from anywhere, to fight tooth and nail just to get child support from some deadbeat dad.” “Well, she shouldn’t have had a kid with God-knows-who at her age, pardon me girls,” chimed in Tatiana Ivanovna, the eldest at the office, known as Granny Tanya. “Vera’s right, Nadia’s cried over that guy for ages, he made her life hell even when she was pregnant.” The women all circled the ceaselessly sobbing Nadia, offering every kind of advice under the sun. So, our strong, independent Nadia decided to turn things around. She summoned her mother from the village to help with her son—and her ‘thankless’ ex. Nadia began to heal: she grew bangs, microbladed her eyebrows, glued on lashes, nearly got a nose ring but was talked out of it by the whole department. And suddenly, she was back. “It’s alright, Nadia,” her colleagues cheered, “he’ll regret it, he’ll cry soon enough!” “He won’t cry at all,” Vera muttered, hardly above a whisper, but the tipsy girls heard her. “What do you mean, he won’t cry?” “He just won’t. And he won’t have any regrets. As for Nadia, she’ll find another just like him before long.” “That’s easy for you to say, your Vasily is probably nothing like that…” “Nothing like that. Vasily is the best man in the world—doesn’t cheat, drink, or raise a hand, adores me to bits.” “Yeah, right. All men are dogs.” “Careful, Vera, or we’ll steal him.” “No chance, he wouldn’t go anywhere.” “I wouldn’t be so sure.” “You should be.” Wine-fueled, the girls soon argued as fiercely as wildcats. “Let’s go round to yours and see if Vasily can resist all this beauty! Bet you wouldn’t dare invite us—you’re scared one of us will steal your precious.” “Alright, let’s go.” “Alright, girls, let’s go to Vera’s and see if we can win Vasily over! Granny Tanya, you coming?” “No, I’ve got Mikhail waiting for me at home… You go ahead,” grinned Tatiana Ivanovna. Off they trooped to Vera’s, laughter filling the kitchen as they bustled about. “Let’s whip up something quickly for Vasily. He’s out now, right?” “He’s picky with food and won’t eat much—but yes, you’re right, he’ll be home soon.” The bravado faded, everyone remembered their chores and left, except Nadia, Olga, and Tanya, who stayed for tea and girl chat, feeling awkward while waiting for the mysterious Vasily. At last, someone arrived. “Vasily, my darling boy!” crooned Vera as she went to the hall. The women fell silent, shuffling awkwardly, when in strode a tall, handsome young man. Ah, so that’s it—they all realized at once. Vera’s man was much, much younger. “Ladies, meet my son, Denis. How’s Vasily, Den?” “He’s fine, Mum—just needs some rest after the op. He’ll be running around tomorrow. Don’t let him lick his…” The women blushed. “We… we’ll be off then?” “Wait, you haven’t met Vasily yet—shh, he’s just had surgery. Denis and Lena took him while I was at work… for his, um, snip, since he kept spraying the curtains. Come on in.” Here he is—my Vasily, fast asleep. The ladies nearly burst out laughing—it was a cat. “Vera—it’s a cat!” “Of course it’s a cat—what did you think?” “But… your husband?” “Oh, I’ve not got one. You all leapt to conclusions when I once said I had a wonderful man in my life called Vasily—you made up the rest all by yourselves. I got married young, first love, all that—dropped out of college, had Denis. Three rough years, and we split. Parents helped out as much as they could. Married again closer to thirty—a nice, stable man, made big plans. Wanted an heir, a princess… as for Denis, oh, send him off to military school or dump him on my mum. Sent that husband back to his mother soon enough. She blamed me for being a fool, said, ‘No one wants someone else’s child’—pretty rich coming from a woman whose husband wasn’t Denis’ father, either. Back to just Denis and me. Third time, I knew the odds were against me. ‘Third time lucky,’ as they say. But early on, this one blackened my eye—all in the name of passionate love, apparently. Luckily, Denis took up martial arts at six and I often sparred with him; I learned a few things. Gave that Othello a taste of his own medicine, and that was that. Denis got married, I got bored—so I got myself Vasily the cat. It’s great: I have company for the cinema, for holidays, and no one owes anyone anything, no one nags or demands. Sometimes I cook a nice dinner and invite Denis—he leaves happy, and there’s no drama. Denis used to ask why we didn’t live together. I told him: we’re adults, with our own lives and habits. If we’d been together since youth, like my brother or my parents—maybe. They’ve fused into one after thirty years. I didn’t, so why should I force myself, just to say ‘I’m married’? No, thanks. Vasily and I do just fine. Right, darling, open your eyes—like I warned you, keep on yowling and spraying, and you’ll lose more than dignity.” The girls left deep in thought, especially Nadia. But Nadia couldn’t do it Vera’s way. Within a month, she was gushing about her new beau, accepting bouquets at work. Vera and Granny Tanya quietly smiled. “How’s Mikhail? How’s his leg?” “All healed, Vera, thank goodness—a splinter, most likely, but he’s back to normal. My grandkids said we should show him at dog shows, but why torture him? We’re happy as we are… Looks like things have worked out with Nadia, too.” “Yes, Tatiana Ivanovna—some get a pet, some get a husband…” “Well, everyone to their own.” “Maybe she’ll have better luck this time?” “Let’s hope so.” “What’s all the whispering?” “About you, Nadia—we’re hoping for the best.” “Girls, I know how it looks, but I just can’t be alone, honestly.” “That’s your business—stop making excuses. Everyone has their own life…” “Vera,” Nadia called, catching up to her at the parking lot, “if I need tips on looking after cats, will you help? Which is better, a tom or a queen?” “Go on, they’re waiting for you… We’ll see about that if the time comes…” Vera laughed. “I just want to know—just in case.”

JUST IN CASE

Sarah glanced at her sobbing colleague, turned back to her computer with barely a shrug, and started typing furiously.

Honestly, Sarah youre heartless, she heard her boss, Margaret, saying.

Me? Where’s that coming from? Sarah replied.

Well, just because your own life is ticking along fine, doesnt mean its that simple for the rest of us, does it? Margaret said. You can see Charlottes beside herself instead of showing a bit of sympathy, maybe even share some advice since you clearly have things sorted?

Me, give advice? To her? She wouldnt thank me for it, Margaret. I did try once must have been five years ago, back when she used to turn up to work with bruises looked like shed been mugged on the way in. You werent here yet.

No, it wasnt her fella knocking her about Charlotte managed that all on her own, always falling over or walking into doors, apparently. Then as soon as her boyfriend did a runner, the bruises disappeared. And he was the third to do a midnight flit, by the way. Thats when I decided to be supportive, offer her a few words of wisdom. Guess who ended up the villain? Yours truly.

The other girls explained to me afterwards waste of time that was. Charlotte thinks shes got it all figured out, apparently knows best, just because some so-called homewrecker like me ruined her happiness. She was off to see fortune tellers and casting love spells in those days these days its all therapy and working through her trauma. But at the end of the day, she keeps playing out the same old drama, just changing the names of the men. So, forgive me, but Im not about to break out the tissues over her latest heartbreak.

Thats as may be, Sarah, but you could at least try to be kinder.

So at lunch, everyone sat round the table together, chatting about Charlottes ex what a scoundrel, lying cheat and all the rest. Sarah just ate in silence, poured herself a coffee, and slipped off to the corner to catch up on social media in peace.

Sarah, said bubbly little Rosie, plonking herself down next to her usually always cheerful, but even she looked a bit out of sorts today: Dont you feel even the tiniest bit sorry for Charlotte?

Rosie, what do you want from me?

Oh, leave her be, piped up Rachel as she walked past. Sarahs always the same shes got her precious David, lives on Easy Street never had to worry about being left on her own with a kid, not a penny in help from anyone. And as for getting any child support from that deadbeat dad, best of luck with that.

No one made her have the baby, chimed in Mrs Thomas, the oldest of the lot everyone just called her Auntie June behind her back. Sarahs right. How many times has Charlotte turned on the waterworks? Remember when he drove her up the wall while she was pregnant? And before that, dont get me started

Meanwhile, the women were all huddled round the still-sobbing Charlotte, dishing out advice left, right, and centre.

So Miss strong and independent Charlotte decided shed had enough of crying. Her mum was summoned from the countryside to help with the little one, and soon, Charlotte was back on the mend. She got herself a fierce new fringe, microbladed her eyebrows, stuck on false lashes wanted a nose ring as well, but the whole team talked her out of it.

And off she went a new woman.

Dont worry, Charlotte the girls encouraged her. Hell be the one in tears soon enough, watch and see.

He absolutely will not, Sarah muttered to herself, just loud enough for the tipsy ladies to hear. He wont cry, he wont regret it, and Charlotte will find another one, if not today then tomorrow

Youd say that, wouldnt you? Easy for you, with your David Not all fellas are like that.”

“My David’s the absolute salt of the earth,” Sarah replied. “Doesn’t hit me, doesn’t drink, doesn’t run about after women loves me to bits.”

“As if!” mocked one of the girls. “Men are all the same, they’re all dogs.”

“Careful, Sarah, someonell nick him if youre not watching.”

“No chance. Hes not that type.”

“Wouldnt be so sure…”

“Well, you try if you fancy it,” Sarah replied, eyebrow raised.

The wine had gone to their heads, and soon enough they were bantering like squabbling teenagers.

“Shall we all pop round to yours, Sarah, and see if David really can resist all this female charm?” teased Rosie. “I bet you wont let us scared that one of us might tempt away your perfect bloke!”

“Come if you like,” Sarah responded.

They all tumbled into Sarahs terraced house in high spirits, giggling and bustling about the kitchen.

Alright, girls, lets rustle up something Davids out, is he, Sarah? Lets put on a bit of a spread for when he gets back.

Dont bother, Sarah said, laughing. He eats like a sparrow, fussy as you like. Hell be home soon, mind.

Before long, their giddiness wore off, and one by one, the girls remembered chores at home and made their excuses, leaving just Charlotte, Margaret, and Rosie behind.

They sipped tea in Sarahs cosy kitchen, chatting in low voices, a bit awkward as they waited for this mysterious David to arrive. Then, the front door creaked.

David! My darling boy, you sweet thing! Sarah doted, popping out to the hallway.

Suddenly the girls fell silent, a bit uncomfortable, and started gathering their bags as a tall, good-looking young man walked in.

Ohhh, they realised, Sarahs husband is miles younger than her.

Right, girls this is Daniel, Sarah introduced.

Daniel? Their faces said it all. Werent we expecting David?

My son, Daniel! Hows David, Dan? He behaved himself?

Yeah, Mum, hes fine. Needs a bit of rest but hell be tearing around again in a day or two just make sure he doesnt lick his stitches.

The women flushed red, trying to figure it out.

Erm we should probably head off?

Stop! Sarah held the door. You still havent met David! Shush now, hes just had an operation Daniel and my daughter-in-law, Emily, took him down while I was at work he needed a snip, little devil started spraying the curtains. Come on.

There, curled up in a basket, lay a big grey tomcat.

Here he is, my little David out for the count! Sarah said proudly.

The girls burst out laughing, slipping out of the room in hysterics.

Sarah, its a cat!?

Of course! Who did you think? Youre the ones who started imagining husbands I just once said my Davids wonderful and you all filled in the blanks!”

“I married far too young, you know my first love, dropped out of college, had Daniel. Didn’t work out, lasted all of three years. My parents helped loads.

Second marriage in my late twenties lovely on paper, full of plans for our future: Id provide him a son, a daughter, the whole works Daniel could go to boarding school, or off to my mums, whatever. I eventually sent him off to his own mother after she kept telling everyone that nobody wants someone elses kid ironic, seeing as shed married twice herself and raised a stepson.

Daniel and I managed just fine together, but by the time I braved a third go, I already knew I wasnt exactly anyones idea of a catch. And, well, as people say, third time lucky except my new chap gave me a black eye before wed even made it to our first Christmas. Claimed it was out of love, if you please.

Daniel learned martial arts from when he was six sometimes Id be his sparring partner at home. I picked up a move or two, and when this Othello had a go, I sent him flying. That was that!

Daniel got married, I got a bit lonely, so I adopted David the cat. We muddle along if I fancy a film, hes good company; same for holidays. No strings, no expectations.

Now and again Ill cook something nice and invite Daniel or Emily over. We have a lovely evening, no drama, everyone goes home happy.

At first Daniel didnt get it. Mum, why dont you settle down, live together? hed ask. But why bother? Were all grown-ups, set in our ways. Maybe if wed spent decades together like my brother and his wife, or my parents theyre like one person these days, finish each others sentences. But thats never been me, and I see no point in pretending.

David and I were perfectly content.

She turned to the half-asleep ginger cat: Isnt that right, my love? I warned you keep spraying the curtains, and youd lose your favourite bits now lets see, arent you a clever lad

Her friends walked home deep in thought Charlotte especially.

But, well, Charlotte just isnt built like Sarah. Within a month, she was already chirping about her new fella and being sent enormous bouquets at work.

Sarah and Auntie June just smiled knowingly.

Hows your Michael these days, June? His paw all better?

Oh, fine, love I think he pricked something out on our walk, but its almost healed, touch wood, as good as new. The grandkids say I should take him to a dog show, but thats not for us were happy enough pottering about, Michael and me Charlotte seems back on her feet, by the way.

Yes, June, some of us adopt pets, and some of us go after husbands

Well, it takes all sorts, doesnt it, love? Maybe this time Charlottell be lucky?

Well, lets hope so

What are you two whispering about? Charlotte called, approaching.

About you, Charlotte hoping youll catch a break this time.

Girls, I know how this must look, honestly, but I just cant bear being on my own.

Thats your choice! No need to explain everyone lives life in their own way

As Sarah left for the car park, she heard Charlotte call, Sarah could you give me a few tips on pets, maybe? Whats better, a tom or a queen?

Sarah laughed, Off you go, someones waiting for you. If you need advice, you know where I am just in caseCharlotte grinned, twirling her hair. Maybe a cat really is the answer, after all. At least theyre honest when they want affectionand they let you know when theyve had enough.

Sarah slid her car key from her purse and winked. Just make sure you pick one with nice manners. And if it starts trashing your house, remember: no love spell will save your curtains.

Charlotte laughed, and it rang clearthe real kind. For the first time in ages, she seemed lighter, like possibility hovered somewhere nearby.

As Sarah drove away, she saw Charlotte standing beneath the streetlamp, phone in hand, not texting a new boyfriend, but scrolling through pictures of shelter kittens. Auntie June waved from across the street, Michael the terrier trotting along at her heel.

For the women back at the office, everything shifted, just a little: sympathy changed flavors, and the lines between pity, envy, and admiration blurred. Maybe strength looked different for everyone; maybe being sorted meant nothing more than knowing you could rely on yourselfor a sleepy tomcat in a basket, purring at your side.

Sarah settled into the hush of her home, put on the kettle, and watched as David blinked up at her and mewed for his dinner. It was enough. For tonight, it was everything.

Outside, the world continued its dramabut here, in the soft lamplight, Sarah closed her eyes, grateful for peaceful company, and the simple, unremarkable happiness shed stitched together, just in case.

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JUST IN CASE Vera glanced at her tearful colleague, turned indifferently back to her computer, and began typing rapidly. “You’re heartless, Vera,” came the voice of Olga, their manager. “Me? What makes you say that?” “Well, just because your personal life is all sunshine and rainbows doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone else. You see the poor girl’s beside herself—you could at least show a bit of sympathy, offer some advice, maybe share your experience. Things are going so well for you, after all.” “Me? Share my experience? With her? I doubt our dear Nadia would appreciate that. I did try, you know—about five years ago, when she started showing up to work with black eyes ‘to help her see the road in the morning,’ as she claimed. You weren’t here yet back then. And no, it wasn’t her boyfriend beating her up—she just had a knack for ‘falling over’ at just the right angle. Funny thing, once he rode off into the sunset, the bruises vanished, and he was the third guy to do so. That’s when I decided to try supporting her, to offer a bit of wisdom, as it were. And guess what? I was the villain in the story. Later, my other colleagues clued me in—supporting Nadia is a lost cause. She always ‘knows best’ and hates anyone who meddles in her happiness. She used to run to fortune-tellers, casting love spells; now she’s moved with the times and goes to therapists to ‘work through her trauma.’ She doesn’t realize she’s living the same story over and over—only the names change. So please forgive me, but I won’t be weeping or passing out tissues.” “Still, Vera,” Olga said, “that’s not right.” At lunch, as everyone sat around the same table, all anyone could talk about was Nadia’s ex—the rogue, the cheater. Vera quietly ate her lunch, poured herself a coffee, and retreated to a corner, scrolling through her socials to clear her mind. “Vera,” cheerful, plump Tanya sidled up, her usually bubbly face looking glum today, “don’t you feel even a little bit sorry for Nadia?” “Tanya, what do you want from me?” “Oh, leave her be,” said passing Irina, “Vera’s got her dear Vasily, lives like a queen—she wouldn’t know what it’s like to be left alone with a child, to have no help from anywhere, to fight tooth and nail just to get child support from some deadbeat dad.” “Well, she shouldn’t have had a kid with God-knows-who at her age, pardon me girls,” chimed in Tatiana Ivanovna, the eldest at the office, known as Granny Tanya. “Vera’s right, Nadia’s cried over that guy for ages, he made her life hell even when she was pregnant.” The women all circled the ceaselessly sobbing Nadia, offering every kind of advice under the sun. So, our strong, independent Nadia decided to turn things around. She summoned her mother from the village to help with her son—and her ‘thankless’ ex. Nadia began to heal: she grew bangs, microbladed her eyebrows, glued on lashes, nearly got a nose ring but was talked out of it by the whole department. And suddenly, she was back. “It’s alright, Nadia,” her colleagues cheered, “he’ll regret it, he’ll cry soon enough!” “He won’t cry at all,” Vera muttered, hardly above a whisper, but the tipsy girls heard her. “What do you mean, he won’t cry?” “He just won’t. And he won’t have any regrets. As for Nadia, she’ll find another just like him before long.” “That’s easy for you to say, your Vasily is probably nothing like that…” “Nothing like that. Vasily is the best man in the world—doesn’t cheat, drink, or raise a hand, adores me to bits.” “Yeah, right. All men are dogs.” “Careful, Vera, or we’ll steal him.” “No chance, he wouldn’t go anywhere.” “I wouldn’t be so sure.” “You should be.” Wine-fueled, the girls soon argued as fiercely as wildcats. “Let’s go round to yours and see if Vasily can resist all this beauty! Bet you wouldn’t dare invite us—you’re scared one of us will steal your precious.” “Alright, let’s go.” “Alright, girls, let’s go to Vera’s and see if we can win Vasily over! Granny Tanya, you coming?” “No, I’ve got Mikhail waiting for me at home… You go ahead,” grinned Tatiana Ivanovna. Off they trooped to Vera’s, laughter filling the kitchen as they bustled about. “Let’s whip up something quickly for Vasily. He’s out now, right?” “He’s picky with food and won’t eat much—but yes, you’re right, he’ll be home soon.” The bravado faded, everyone remembered their chores and left, except Nadia, Olga, and Tanya, who stayed for tea and girl chat, feeling awkward while waiting for the mysterious Vasily. At last, someone arrived. “Vasily, my darling boy!” crooned Vera as she went to the hall. The women fell silent, shuffling awkwardly, when in strode a tall, handsome young man. Ah, so that’s it—they all realized at once. Vera’s man was much, much younger. “Ladies, meet my son, Denis. How’s Vasily, Den?” “He’s fine, Mum—just needs some rest after the op. He’ll be running around tomorrow. Don’t let him lick his…” The women blushed. “We… we’ll be off then?” “Wait, you haven’t met Vasily yet—shh, he’s just had surgery. Denis and Lena took him while I was at work… for his, um, snip, since he kept spraying the curtains. Come on in.” Here he is—my Vasily, fast asleep. The ladies nearly burst out laughing—it was a cat. “Vera—it’s a cat!” “Of course it’s a cat—what did you think?” “But… your husband?” “Oh, I’ve not got one. You all leapt to conclusions when I once said I had a wonderful man in my life called Vasily—you made up the rest all by yourselves. I got married young, first love, all that—dropped out of college, had Denis. Three rough years, and we split. Parents helped out as much as they could. Married again closer to thirty—a nice, stable man, made big plans. Wanted an heir, a princess… as for Denis, oh, send him off to military school or dump him on my mum. Sent that husband back to his mother soon enough. She blamed me for being a fool, said, ‘No one wants someone else’s child’—pretty rich coming from a woman whose husband wasn’t Denis’ father, either. Back to just Denis and me. Third time, I knew the odds were against me. ‘Third time lucky,’ as they say. But early on, this one blackened my eye—all in the name of passionate love, apparently. Luckily, Denis took up martial arts at six and I often sparred with him; I learned a few things. Gave that Othello a taste of his own medicine, and that was that. Denis got married, I got bored—so I got myself Vasily the cat. It’s great: I have company for the cinema, for holidays, and no one owes anyone anything, no one nags or demands. Sometimes I cook a nice dinner and invite Denis—he leaves happy, and there’s no drama. Denis used to ask why we didn’t live together. I told him: we’re adults, with our own lives and habits. If we’d been together since youth, like my brother or my parents—maybe. They’ve fused into one after thirty years. I didn’t, so why should I force myself, just to say ‘I’m married’? No, thanks. Vasily and I do just fine. Right, darling, open your eyes—like I warned you, keep on yowling and spraying, and you’ll lose more than dignity.” The girls left deep in thought, especially Nadia. But Nadia couldn’t do it Vera’s way. Within a month, she was gushing about her new beau, accepting bouquets at work. Vera and Granny Tanya quietly smiled. “How’s Mikhail? How’s his leg?” “All healed, Vera, thank goodness—a splinter, most likely, but he’s back to normal. My grandkids said we should show him at dog shows, but why torture him? We’re happy as we are… Looks like things have worked out with Nadia, too.” “Yes, Tatiana Ivanovna—some get a pet, some get a husband…” “Well, everyone to their own.” “Maybe she’ll have better luck this time?” “Let’s hope so.” “What’s all the whispering?” “About you, Nadia—we’re hoping for the best.” “Girls, I know how it looks, but I just can’t be alone, honestly.” “That’s your business—stop making excuses. Everyone has their own life…” “Vera,” Nadia called, catching up to her at the parking lot, “if I need tips on looking after cats, will you help? Which is better, a tom or a queen?” “Go on, they’re waiting for you… We’ll see about that if the time comes…” Vera laughed. “I just want to know—just in case.”