“Hello. I’m Yuri’s wife. May I come in?”
For a week, the medical college buzzed with excitement over the upcoming volleyball tournament. The medics’ team was playing against the engineering college. Emma had been pestering Lucy all morning to go watch the match.
“I don’t like volleyball—don’t even care about sports. I don’t understand the rules,” Lucy argued.
“What’s there to understand? We’ll just cheer for our team to win. Come on, do it for me,” Emma pleaded.
“You don’t care about the match—you just want to see Daniel,” Lucy sighed, finally agreeing.
The gym was packed, every bench along the wall filled. Surprisingly, Lucy got swept up in the game, soon shouting and waving her team’s red flags alongside the crowd. The engineers’ supporters waved blue ones. In the end, the medics won, and the girls celebrated as if they had played the match themselves.
“Ready to go home?” Lucy asked as they stepped outside into the cool evening, streetlights flickering on.
“Let’s wait for Daniel, congratulate him. He’ll be out soon,” Emma croaked, her voice hoarse from shouting.
They didn’t wait long. Daniel emerged with another young man, spotted them, and came over, introducing his opponent, Yuri—an old school friend. The four walked together, dissecting the game, then split ways. Daniel walked Emma home, while Yuri accompanied Lucy. That night marked the beginning of their romance.
A year later, after Lucy graduated, she and Yuri married. Yuri had finished his degree earlier and was already working. Their parents pooled money for a down payment, and the young couple bought a two-bedroom flat, hopeful for children.
Three years later, Lucy gave birth to a son. Six years after that, a daughter. In between maternity leaves, she worked at a dental clinic, treating family, friends, and their acquaintances. Yuri remained an engineer at a large firm, playing volleyball only occasionally—mostly on summer beaches. He kept in shape, handsome as ever, and every time Lucy admired him, she remembered their first meeting. It was hard to imagine she almost missed it.
Of course, their passion had faded since newlywed days, but they lived harmoniously—hosting holiday gatherings, weekend barbecues at friends’ cottages, beach holidays. They even vacationed in Spain twice—once alone, once with their son, James. Baby Sophie wasn’t even a thought then. Among their friends, they were considered the perfect couple—one of the few still together.
Emma envied Lucy—kindly, but still. She believed Lucy owed her happiness to her. If she hadn’t begged her to attend that match, Lucy and Yuri would never have met. Meanwhile, Emma and Daniel didn’t work out. She married someone else, divorced in two years, and remained searching for happiness.
One evening, Lucy helped James with his Year 5 homework while Sophie sat beside them, tongue peeking out in concentration as she drew.
“Mum, your phone,” James murmured without looking up.
Lucy listened. The vibration was faint—she usually kept it on silent. Calls came often—someone with a toothache asking for advice, acquaintances begging for favours at the clinic. She always answered—she was a doctor, after all.
This time, it was Emma. Lucy answered but quickly said, “I’m helping James. Call later?”
“Later might be too late,” Emma said. “Yuri’s not home, is he?”
“Still at work. He warned me he’d be late. Why?”
“He’s not at work. I just saw him at a restaurant with a beautiful woman. I’m on a date myself—stepped outside to call you. They got in his car and left—probably to hers. I’m sorry, Lucy, but this isn’t just a chance meeting. They’re serious. My instincts are sharp. Hear me out?”
Lucy heard. She knew women liked Yuri, but he’d never given her reason to doubt his faithfulness. Maybe Emma was drunk—mistaken—or maybe Lucy had missed the signs.
“I barely drank,” Emma said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’m not calling out of jealousy. I care about you both. I’d never try to steal him—he’s mad about you. But I couldn’t stay silent.”
Emma offered to have her police date investigate, but Lucy cut her off. “Find out,” she said, tossing her phone aside as if it were to blame.
James called her, but she walked to the kitchen, gripping the counter, trembling. Yuri… with another woman. An old film title flashed in her mind—*It Can’t Be True!* But Emma knew him too well to be wrong.
Her fingers turned icy, heart aching, face burning. *Maybe it was a business dinner? Emma insisted it was an affair. Yuri’s human—could he have fallen for someone else? Should I scream, throw plates? Scare the children? Push him away? His mistress offers patience, tenderness—what do I do now?*
James interrupted. “Mum, I’m stuck on this problem.”
She forced herself back, mechanically helping him until Yuri returned. She greeted him with a smile.
“Want dinner warmed up?”
“No, had coffee at work. Exhausted. Shower, then bed.”
Lucy tucked Sophie in, then sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, thinking until dawn. Sleep was impossible.
She woke with a headache, eyes gritty. Made breakfast, roused Sophie while Yuri—refreshed—ate heartily.
“Could you take Sophie to nursery? I’m not feeling well.”
“Of course. Rest—you’ve got the late shift, right?” He always remembered. Everything felt normal—yet shattered.
Two days later, Lucy visited her mother, desperate for advice.
“What should I do?”
Her mother sighed. “When your father strayed, I raged, smashed things… didn’t need detectives. Everyone knew before me. I wrecked *her* flat—nearly cracked her skull with a stool. Your dad stopped me.”
Lucy stared.
“Shocked? I was ashamed later. Your father left, said he couldn’t live with me. He came back—I turned him away. At first, no regrets. But… it was hard. You have *two* children. Later, I wished I’d forgiven him. None of us were happy. He stayed with her out of obligation until he died. The choice is yours. Fight for Yuri if you love him.”
Emma later visited Lucy at the clinic with the mistress’s address.
“So it’s true,” Lucy said bitterly, taking the paper.
“You doubted me? What will you do?”
“What would *you* do?”
Emma suggested everything from arsenic to acid, even witchcraft.
“TV rotted your brain,” Lucy snapped. “I’m to blame too—got complacent.”
That evening, Lucy asked Yuri to collect Sophie the next day, claiming her mother needed her.
“You’ve been distracted lately. Work trouble?” Yuri asked.
She wanted to scream—tell him she knew everything, hated him, debated throwing him out or maiming his mistress. Instead: “Just worried about Mum.”
The next day, Lucy went to the mistress’s flat. She trembled outside, almost fleeing—until an old woman held the door.
“Coming in or just standing there?”
Lucy forced a smile, entering.
At the door, memories flooded her—years of love, fights like passing storms. *This is right.* She rang the bell.
A beautiful young woman answered—long hair, blue eyes, strangely like Lucy years ago.
“Hello,” Lucy smiled. “I’m Yuri’s wife. May I come in?”
Without waiting, she stepped into the rented flat—so like hers and Yuri’s first home.
“Tea?” Lucy asked, taking charge. The girl obeyed, lighting the stove.
Lucy studied her, calm now. “I’m Lucy. You’re Claire. You love my husband. I understand—he’s easy to love. But he met me first. We’ve built a life—children. James is nearly twelve, just like him. Sophie’s six. He adores them. Do you think he can divide that love?”
Claire looked down.
“You knew he was married. Confident he’ll leave us? He won’t abandon his children. He’ll suffer, torn between you and them—then resent you. Can you build happiness on our pain?”
Lucy left before Claire could respond.
Walking home, she wept. Would Yuri choose Claire? Could he?
At home, dinner was ready—Yuri had cooked pasta.
“Mum’s back!” the kids cheered.
“How’s your mother?” Yuri asked.
“Fine, her blood pressure’s down.” Exhausted, she showered early, pretending to sleep as Yuri put the children to bed.
He stood by her bed—like James had—then lay beside her. She ached for him to hold her, promise he’d never leave.
But he didn’t leave—not the next day, not ever. Life resumed.
That summer, they went to the beach. Lucy watched Yuri play volleyballYears later, when her own daughter asked how she stayed strong, Lucy simply smiled and said, “Love isn’t about never falling—it’s about choosing to get back up.”
