На юбилее матери муж крикнул: "А теперь — сюрприз: я ухожу от этой деревенщины!" — и указал на жену

At his mother's anniversary celebration, the husband shouted, "And now, a surprise! I'm leaving this country bumpkin." He pointed at his wife. She only smirked. Time to end this charitable show. She thought, stood up, and said a phrase that silenced the entire hall.

Before we continue the story, write in the comments what your name is and what city you are from. A clinking of glasses and laughter from the guests filled the room, followed by an unexpected silence. Ludmila's face, the festively dressed mother of the birthday boy, froze in bewilderment. Everyone froze in anticipation of some joyful announcement, and no one was ready for what would happen in the next second.

A sharp, defiant voice of her son, Alexander, boomed into the microphone. "And now, a surprise. I'm leaving this country bumpkin." He gestured towards his wife, Elizaveta, drawing everyone's attention to her. Elizaveta stood nearby, in a luxurious beige dress that revealed her slender shoulders and emphasized her graceful figure. Her long chestnut hair was neatly styled in waves, and her large green eyes looked at her husband calmly and almost mockingly. She was truly very beautiful, as if she had stepped out of a glossy magazine.

Everyone present was accustomed to believing that their couple was ideal, as they had been together for 6 years, and lately, they seemed so strong and inseparable. And then this statement. Surprised gasps rippled through the hall. Alexander's mother, Ludmila, widened her eyes. For a few seconds, no one could utter a word. Someone coughed awkwardly, someone hastily pretended not to have heard, and the most curious exchanged questioning glances.

But most of all, of course, Alexander's behavior itself was astonishing. Restrained, always outwardly correct, though quite quick-tempered at home. Yet, in society, he was a polite man. And suddenly, like this, with this country bumpkin. Everyone was in shock. Elizaveta merely raised an eyebrow and smiled skeptically. She definitely knew beforehand that her husband might stage such a scene. Inside, everything was boiling, but she did not allow her emotions to get the better of her. Collected and stately, she adjusted the hem of her dress and, with the air of a self-confident woman, said only one short word: "Excellent."

Such a cold reaction made the hall freeze even more. There were no tears, no screams, and not even the piercing "How could you?", typical of social events. Everything looked like this: as if Elizaveta had just been invited for a cup of coffee, and she, politely thanking, agreed. But every word, every gesture in such family melodramas has meaning.

Alexander, who clearly expected a stormy scene from her, fell silent in bewilderment, still standing on the makeshift stage next to the DJ's console. Noticing that society demanded explanations, he only mechanically rubbed his bridge of his nose and, straightening his shoulders, added: "That's it. I've made this decision finally." Period.

Ludmila, stammering, tried to behave like a real hostess of the evening, as it was her anniversary. She turned 55. It seemed that life was in full swing. Relatives, colleagues, friends gathered in the cozy hall of the restaurant. Exquisite dishes, rehearsed toasts. Everything indicated that the evening should be filled with fun and sincere congratulations. But then her son takes the microphone and loudly announces a divorce. Not quite the surprise the birthday girl was expecting.

"Sasha," Ludmila whispered, but her voice cracked. She stopped. An awkward silence reigned among the guests. Alexander's brother, Sergey, standing at the other end of the table, glanced at Elizaveta, then at his mother, then shifted his gaze to Alexander and quietly said, "What are you doing, Sasha? Mom's party, for crying out loud!"

The corners of Alexander's lips trembled, as if in vague contempt. He did not answer his brother, but again looked at Elizaveta. Voices began to rise in the hall. Someone sympathetically shook their head, someone turned to their neighbor, whispering, someone was already taking out their phone to record the scandal or share the hot news in messengers. After all, such a movie isn't shown live every day.

Elizaveta took a deep breath. She herself did not fully understand how she was holding herself together, but she knew it was time to end this charitable show, as she had mentally called it. For too long she had endured disrespect from her husband, covering everything up with a beautiful picture for those around her. In the last year, she felt like a puppet that Alexander used to look successful and prosperous as a family man. But now he himself publicly interrupted this game.

The woman took a couple of steps forward, standing opposite Alexander so that the microphone would also pick up her voice. How many times during their 6 years of marriage had she dreamed of telling the truth directly to his face? But she held on until the last moment. She wanted to save the family, and when she realized that it was all pointless, she began to wait for the moment. Now, it seemed, the moment had come.

Elizaveta spoke in a calm but resolute voice. "Sasha, if you want to make a public spectacle of this, let me also say a few words. Thank you for showing your true face in front of everyone. I have long considered how much longer I should participate in your game, but your actions have relieved me of agonizing doubts. And I want to say, I really am the country bumpkin that you don't love, that you are ashamed of. But, you know, unlike you, I know how to maintain my dignity."

At that moment, in the hall, one could hear someone quietly sigh. Her words sounded so strong and confident. Elizaveta's eyes sparkled, but not from anger, but from the realization that she was freeing herself from some heavy burden. "I came from a village, yes," she continued, not allowing anyone to interrupt her. "I worked hard to get an education and become who I am. I loved you and believed that we could overcome everything. But if, by humiliating me, you wanted to assert yourself, I'm no longer hindering you. You are free, Sasha."

She fell silent, and in this short pause, the entire hall seemed to freeze. No one expected such a reaction. No tears, no pleas, but a clear and unambiguous statement: "You are free." The waiters with dishes froze, the guests fell silent. Ludmila herself covered her face with her hands, not knowing what to do. And Sergey, the younger brother, stepped towards Alexander and quietly said, "You're such a fool, Sasha." This sounded more with regret than with condemnation.

Alexander, it seemed, did not know what to answer. He was used to Elizaveta sitting quietly and accepting any of his outbursts. And now she suddenly took all the initiative, depriving him even of the pleasure of a dramatic exit. And suddenly he felt like a fool. How could he, in the middle of his mother's celebration, stage such a performance, and now stand there not understanding what to do next? He crookedly smirked, awkwardly stretched out: "Okay, but added nothing more."

At that moment, Elizaveta put the microphone on the table and turned to the guests. Her voice still sounded firm. "Forgive us. This was supposed to be a wonderful evening. After all, today is the anniversary of a wonderful woman, my mother-in-law Ludmila. I apologize that I couldn't influence her son's behavior, but I promise that this evening will not be completely ruined. Let's continue the celebration for which you all gathered here."

She straightened her back, as if stepping onto a podium, and, passing her husband, calmly said, "I've already decided. I will no longer participate in this farce." Then she headed for the exit, but she was stopped by Ludmila's quiet voice.

"Liza, wait." Ludmila looked bewildered and dejected, but there was a plea in her eyes. Elizaveta turned to her mother-in-law and smiled slightly, trying not to show how hurt and offended she was inside. "I don't want to ruin your holiday, Mommy. I think it's best for me to leave now, so as not to turn your anniversary into a continuation of a public scene." She had always called her mother-in-law "Mommy" from the very beginning of her relationship with Alexander. Ludmila was grateful to her for such a respectful and warm attitude. And now a whole gamut of feelings appeared on the face of the birthday girl: anxiety, pity, some kind of inner repentance, because she loved Elizaveta and considered her a wonderful daughter-in-law, and now she saw how her own son had treated her, and did not know how to fix the situation.

At that moment, Alexander's father, Gennady Petrovich, stood up from his seat. He was a tall man with gray hair, reserved, even stern in appearance, but at heart he was kind. He rarely aired quarrels in public and tried to keep family conflicts within the family, if they even arose. But now he could not remain silent. "I think we all need to calm down," he said in a calm but firm voice. "First of all, for Ludmila's sake, after all, it's her holiday." Sasha, he turned to his son, "you should know that with your words you hurt Eliza and your mother."

Alexander blushed. It finally began to dawn on him that he had committed an unforgivable act, making his wife a laughingstock in front of his relatives and friends on his mother's anniversary. Yes, he had reasons for dislike towards Elizaveta. Or, at least, he thought he had reasons, but perhaps he should have been more cautious now. However, he could not proceed to apologies. The words, already spoken, could not be taken back, and admitting his mistake would be a blow to his pride.

Sergey, the younger brother, stood next to Gennady Petrovich and, addressing the guests, diplomatically suggested: "Friends, let's give Ludmila Alekseevna the floor. After all, it's her birthday. And they can discuss family matters later." Ludmila gratefully nodded, still unable to smile broadly as she had done just 10 minutes ago when she cut the celebratory cake and received toasts. She took a small sip of mineral water and took the microphone. "Thank you all for coming. I don't want this scandal to ruin the evening for all of us. I suggest we continue the dinner now. We have so much delicious food. And I apologize for the emotions. I guess every family has such moments, but we'll sort it out. Enjoy your evening."

Everyone looked at Ludmila with sympathy and respect. Someone applauded, supporting her idea to continue the celebration, someone remained gloomy. But still, most decided to follow the hostess's advice and sit down at the tables. The orchestra or DJ—there was some small musical equipment in the hall—tried to play quiet music to ease the atmosphere.

Elizaveta lingered at the exit from the hall. She looked at Ludmila one more time and her gaze softened. Despite everything, she respected her, and leaving like this in the middle of the party was morally difficult. But it was even harder to stay in the same space with Alexander, who had just called her a country bumpkin and publicly announced a divorce. She still decided to go outside to breathe fresh air and figure out what to do next. Deep down, she already clearly realized that this was the end of their marriage, and most likely, it would be better for both of them.

However, the guests could not simply forget what had happened. Whispers rushed from one table to another. Ludmila's neighbor, Antonina Podacha, turned to her neighbor and anxiously said, "Can you imagine what a disgrace?" "How could he do that in front of everyone? Yes, indeed," her friend echoed. "And most importantly, Liza was always respected, such a clever and beautiful woman from a simple family, but she achieved so much. What haven't they divided? And who knows? Maybe there's another woman?"

Conversations, assumptions, gossip. This is commonplace for such gatherings where most are old acquaintances and relatives, sincerely interested or simply loving to gossip. Some guests, Alexander's business friends, noticeably treated Elizaveta with respect. After all, she was not only outwardly beautiful, but also intelligent, helped her husband in business, often spoke with him at negotiations. Sponsors, business partners, and friends of the family generally tried delicately to pretend that nothing special had happened. From time to time, they approached Ludmila with congratulations, said how beautiful and young she was, joked about her being only 55. Life is just beginning.

The music slowly filled the hall. The waiters returned to their work. Alexander, however, slumped onto the table, staring at one point. Doubts and irritation washed over him. "Well, great. The main thing is said. Now everyone will be whispering behind my back. And what next? How to get out of this? And why didn't Liza beg me, didn't cry even a little?"

Sergey stopped next to him. He was a couple of centimeters shorter than his brother, but more athletic and wiry, with an open gaze and a calm disposition. It was always believed that Sergey was a more benevolent and condescending person, while Alexander could be harsh, especially in business relationships.

"Listen, Sasha," he quietly began, "you just said that everything is over, you're leaving her. Couldn't you have waited until tomorrow at least? It's Mom's anniversary."

"Sergey," Alexander brushed him off, "don't tell me how to live. Okay. I have my own understanding of how to deal with this. I'm tired of Liza. I've wanted to say this for a long time, yes, the opportunity somehow didn't present itself, and today I caught myself thinking: 'Enough, it's better if everyone finds out at once, so I don't have to run around and explain myself later.'"

"But why so rudely? 'Country bumpkin'?" Sergey frowned. "What did she do to you?"

Alexander hesitated, wrinkled his brow, looking at the glass in front of him. "I don't want to discuss this now. She has her flaws, I have mine. In short, it's my business."

Sergey sighed, shook his head, and walked away. Alexander remained sitting alone. It seemed to him that he had done the right thing, because for a long time he had considered Elizaveta unworthy of him. He believed that she did not know how to behave in their circle, that her origin from a small village somewhere in the backwoods was a shame and a burden for his career. He had repeatedly told her how to dress, how to speak, how to behave at parties. She tried, she learned, she even dressed with taste, maintained high standards of appearance, but something still didn't work out for Alexander inside. It seemed to him that deep down she didn't reach the level he wanted to be at.

Then gradually new women, new interests appeared, and Elizaveta seemed to fade into the background for him. But now he suddenly felt some emptiness. Who knows, maybe deep down he still hoped for a scandal, for a stormy scene, after which he could triumphantly leave. And here Elizaveta behaved so decently that many around began to look at him himself as a self-satisfied egoist. He felt guilty, but he could not admit it to himself.

At the table next to him sat his friend and business partner, Vladislav, who raised his eyebrows and questioningly said, "Sanya, you really did it." "I knew, of course, that things weren't going smoothly between you, but to do it like this? Are you sure you did the right thing?"

Alexander leaned back in his chair, held a meaningful pause, and then uncertainly shrugged. "Now everything is over. The main thing is that Liza doesn't decide to take all my money and property. But I am, of course, ready to incur certain expenses. She's not a pauper, she earns a lot herself."

"But aren't there enough examples of wives taking everything from their husbands after a divorce?"

"I don't think she's like that," Vladislav cautiously objected. "Liza always seemed to be self-sufficient, she did translations and gave marketing consultations."

"I don't know," Alexander listlessly waved his hand. "In any case, it's too late to change anything."

Meanwhile, the celebration gradually came back to life. The music played a little louder. Someone from the family suggested making a toast to the birthday girl's health. She was presented with bouquets and gifts. Someone tried to cheer her up with jokes. But Ludmila was still upset. She saw how her eldest son sat at the table with a gloomy face, occasionally drinking, and her daughter-in-law had left the hall and still hadn't returned.

Gennady Petrovich, the head of the family, put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Lyuda, don't worry, let's decide later. The party is still going on. The guests came. You're strong. Hold on."

Ludmila quietly nodded. It was not easy for her to hold herself together. Shame and resentment burned in her heart, because this whole scandal had happened in front of dozens of people.

Meanwhile, Elizaveta went outside. The air seemed refreshing to her. She took a couple of deep breaths and looked at the starry sky. Yes, the evening was pleasant, warm. Music was barely audible through the walls of the restaurant. Several people were smoking at the entrance, but upon seeing Elizaveta, they quietly moved away so as not to interfere with her, and perhaps to give her space for personal experiences. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a second. Tears welled up, but she tried to hold them back. How long had she been preparing herself internally for the fact that Alexander might explode at any moment and say something like that? She knew his opinion about her origins, his arrogance, but this moment still hurt her more than she had expected.

Memories flooded back—how they met, how he then seemed so confident and purposeful to her, how she thought she had found in him a man who would appreciate her soul, her hard work, her simplicity. She remembered her grandmother in the village, who always said, "Don't be afraid to go far away. If you want to study and work, you will always achieve your goal." Her grandmother was no longer alive, but Elizaveta continued to keep her advice in her memory, and now she had to admit that perhaps she had gone the wrong way when she connected her life with Alexander, ignoring the first warning signs in his behavior.

"Well," she thought, "I must admit the obvious. Everything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger." I am free. He said it publicly, and there will be no turning back.

Behind her, she heard the quiet click of heels. Elizaveta turned around and saw Irina, Alexander's third cousin, a young woman in her thirties, who had always treated Elizaveta with warmth. Irina was short, but very pretty, a brunette with a kind look and the ability to empathize.

"Liza," Irina whispered, "sorry I'm following you like this. It's just that you don't want to go back to the table."

"No, I don't," Elizaveta replied, smiling weakly. "At least not now. And you?"

"I'm just as puzzled as everyone else right now. But, you see, people started talking there, that maybe it will be hard for you to go home alone or that you're upset. I was worried. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Elizaveta lied, shrugging. "Probably shock. But I'm holding up."

Irina came closer, took Elizaveta's hand. "I know you're strong, but if you need help, tell me. I have a car, I can take you anywhere. Or maybe you want to come to our place? We have a spare room, until you decide what to do next."

Elizaveta felt a warm wave of gratitude. Not everyone in this family was indifferent to her. Irina, judging by everything, was really worried about her well-being, and it was pleasant.

"Thank you very much. I'll probably go to my apartment. I have one. I bought it before getting married, remember?"

"Yes, of course," Irina nodded. "The apartment in the new residential complex, it seems to be quite good."

"Yes, I specifically invested in this housing then, so as not to depend on anyone. And now it turned out to be my salvation."

"Maybe it's better to leave there for a while," Irina said with an understanding look. It seemed that she had a lot to say, but she remained silent, because she was afraid of touching some painful chord in Elizaveta's soul. "Liza, maybe don't leave yet?" she finally dared to suggest. "I understand it's hard for you to be around Sasha, but if you leave now, it will be a sign that it's over. Are you sure you want to break it off so sharply?"

Elizaveta answered quietly but firmly. "Yes, Irina, I'm sure. I haven't felt for a long time that this marriage brings us happiness. I tried to talk to him, but she stopped, trying not to give too many details. In short, he doesn't respect me, he considers me an inferior being. He thinks that my village surname is a stigma. Well, let him enjoy his freedom now."

Irina understood that it was pointless to persuade her and nodded. "I understand. Then I won't bother you with conversations. Maybe you want to rest in my car or have some tea?"

"It's okay," Elizaveta said quietly. "Thank you, I'll probably just call a taxi and go."

They approached the edge of the sidewalk together, and Irina, taking out her phone, volunteered to help with the taxi. Soon the car arrived, and before Elizaveta got inside, Irina hugged her.

"Call if you need anything."

"Okay. Okay, thank you."

And the car, smoothly driving away from the restaurant, took Elizaveta away from the center of this loud and unpleasant scandal. In the car, she leaned back against the seat, inhaled and exhaled, just like in the yoga classes she once attended. She needed to pull herself together, but tears and resentment still overtook her. The taxi driver barely braked at a traffic light. It was good that the taxi's interior was darkened and the driver didn't turn around. Elizaveta allowed herself a couple of minutes of quiet crying, without sobs, almost silently. Only salty trails flowed down her cheeks.

She remembered how, about two months ago, Alexander had already mentioned that he didn't like her "village girl complexes," as he put it. Then it happened at the birthday of one of his colleagues. They were in an expensive restaurant, ordered oysters and champagne, and Elizaveta said that she didn't want to eat oysters. She didn't like their taste. Alexander, in front of the guests, began half-jokingly, half-seriously, to say that whoever is from a village doesn't understand haute cuisine. Then it sounded offensive, but she suppressed her indignation. But now everything returned as a surge, poured out into those outrageous words "country bumpkin," said to the whole hall. And now it was impossible to pretend that it was just a joke.

After some time, she stopped at her house, paid the driver, and went up to her apartment—empty and quiet. She clicked the switch, and white light flooded the neat living room with simple but stylish furniture. She had rented this apartment to young students when she lived with Alexander. But a month ago, the tenants moved out, and it was empty now. Maybe fate had arranged it this way on purpose? At the entrance, she stumbled over a box containing the remaining books. She decided that she had enough worries for today, quickly changed into her slippers and went to the kitchen. There she sat down at the table and stared blankly at the wall. Everything was aching in her chest. How to live on? But an inner voice answered freely and honestly.

She sat and sat until she heard the phone ring. At first, she didn't want to answer. She thought it might be Alexander, but she still looked at the screen. It was her best friend, Svetlana, calling.

"Liza, I already know everything. They called me, told me. What happened there, damn it?"

Elizaveta closed her eyes, as if it was hard for her to speak aloud.

"Nothing, Sveta, everything, the marriage is over."

"How so? Right at the anniversary, he completely lost it, apparently."

"Yes, he announced that he was leaving the 'country bumpkin' and pointed at me."

"Scoundrel, Liza, I'm here for you. If you want, I'll come."

"No need, I'm tired. We'll meet tomorrow."

"Okay. Maybe in the afternoon?"

"Sure, write, call. I'll rush over even at night, without hesitation."

Her friend's words supported her. Elizaveta thanked Svetlana and hung up. Then, deciding to distract herself, she put on the kettle and started making herself mint tea. She needed to relax and not allow herself to fall into self-pity. Having prepared the tea, she sat down and suddenly thought about how much she wanted to say to Alexander: grievances, complaints, but also about the fact that it was probably no longer necessary. The breakup had happened, and so loudly and publicly that there was no turning back.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the restaurant remained tense. While conversations were going on at the tables, they recalled the past, how Alexander and Liza met, how they had a magnificent wedding, also in this restaurant, how they seemed such a beautiful couple. The waiters carried dishes. Someone tried to entertain the birthday girl, approached with souvenirs, took pictures with her, but Ludmila was on pins and needles. She didn't understand what to do: run to her son and scold him, call Elizaveta back. But she had left. And no wonder, who wouldn't leave after such words. Then someone from the relatives said that they had seen Elizaveta leave in a taxi.

On the one hand, Ludmila felt pangs of conscience. She couldn't keep her daughter-in-law, although she was attached to her. On the other hand, she realized that it was her anniversary and the party, perhaps, was already spoiled, but she needed to remain calm for the other guests who came not only to drink and eat, but also to express their respect to her.

Half an hour later, the host of the evening, noticing the general mood, put forward an idea: "Let's still hold some planned contests to cheer up our birthday girl." Someone readily agreed, someone gloomily remained silent. The music got louder. The waiters started bringing out new servings of food, pouring wine and champagne. The celebration continued, but not with the same ease as before the incident.

Alexander, having drunk a couple of glasses, left the table and went towards the bar. There he met his old university friend Konstantin, who worked in advertising.

Konstantin put down his glass of whiskey and, seeing Alexander's gloomy expression, asked, "Well, Sasha, have you also decided to drown your sorrows in drink?"

"What sorrows?" I was tired. Alexander ordered himself a whiskey. What was there to cry about? I decided everything myself. It's final. Yes, I'm not going to stay with her. I'm tired of her inability to adapt to my lifestyle.

Konstantin scratched his head, gazing into his glass. "You know, Lisa, in my opinion, she adapted quite well. I've seen her many times. She always kept up appearances."

"Kept up appearances," Alexander grumbled, taking a sip of whiskey. "Maybe she did, but I see it differently. Okay, I don't want to discuss this now."

Konstantin realized that arguments were useless now. Alexander had shown stubbornness before, but now he seemed completely convinced of his own rightness. Konstantin just shrugged. "Well, look, friend, it's your life. Although I feel sorry for her. I always liked her, she was genuine."

Alexander silently took another sip. He didn't like that many people openly sided with Elizaveta. He felt that he looked like the main villain in the eyes of those around him. And this irritated him even more, intensifying his inner anger. Why doesn't anyone think about how hard it was for me?

Hard from what? From the fact that he constantly sought the approval of society, colleagues, partners, and believed that his wife should ideally fit into his circle and share his tastes, his interests. And she, for all her beauty and skill, still remained different, somewhat alien to the social circle he considered elite. Elizaveta was quite independent, had her own views, her own morals. Alexander often perceived this as disrespect for his authority. Gradually, a wall grew between them.

Sergey interrupted his thoughts, quietly approaching and touching him on the shoulder. "Sasha, maybe we should go for a walk for a minute? There's something we need to talk about."

"Okay," Alexander said reluctantly.

They left the bar and went to a quieter part of the restaurant, where there wasn't such a crowd. Sergey looked around, made sure that there were no accidental listeners nearby, and calmly asked, "Are you really going to get a divorce?"

Alexander sighed heavily. "Yes, these aren't empty words."

"Then explain to me at least why. You lived peacefully enough, it seemed, at least you looked good together."

"Because we're not right for each other. Do you understand? I don't feel in her the partner I need."

Sergey paused, then summarized, "So it's all because she hasn't reached your heights?"

"It's not about heights," Alexander exploded, "it's about her being stubborn, not supporting me in business, not wanting to live the way I think is necessary. She constantly has her own opinion. I'm tired of this constant clash." Then he stopped, almost letting slip that he had another woman in mind, one who was much more compliant.

"And then what?" Sergey picked up, raising his eyebrows slightly. "You've said more than once that Elizaveta is smart, that she helps you with translations, with business."

"She helped, as long as she was interested," Alexander grumbled. "Then she started spinning her own projects. And I became second priority for her."

Sergey sighed. "Okay, you're a grown man, decide for yourself. It's just a shame that you aired this out in public, and on my mother's birthday. It turned out badly. See how she's suffering."

Alexander said nothing, only looked away. He was ashamed before his mother, but admitting it was difficult.

"And now what?" Sergey continued. "You'll stay here?"

"I'll finish my drink, eat, congratulate Mom again, and then I'll leave. Let everyone see that I'm not running after Lisa. Let everyone know that the decision is made." Alexander straightened up, putting on his mask of confidence again.

"What's it to you?"

Sergey nodded wearily, but remembering that our family is also involved. "Let's at least not argue with Mom today. Try to restrain yourself."

They returned to the hall. Lyudmila, seeing them, cast a long, sad look at her son, but remained silent. And the host tried to make a toast and say something like, "Dear friends, let's wish the birthday girl fewer dramas and more joys, because life is beautiful."

The guests reluctantly laughed, someone raised their glass. Lyudmila smiled, although it was clear that joy came to her with difficulty. Soon the celebration began to wind down. Many guests began to gather their things to go home. Alexander kissed his mother on the cheek, slipped her an envelope of money, saying, "Mom, this is for you. May you have all the best."

Lyudmila thanked her with a sad smile, but she didn't start a reproach or a scandal, she didn't want to spoil the evening even more. When the guests dispersed and the restaurant emptied, Lyudmila, Gennady Petrovich, Sergey, and a couple of close relatives, including Irina, remained to help gather the gifts, flowers, and take things to the car. Lyudmila looked for Elizaveta with her eyes, but she wasn't there.

"Ira, did you see Lisa?" she asked quietly.

"She went home, Aunt Lyudmila," Irina replied. "I tried to persuade her to stay, but she didn't want to."

Lyudmila sadly nodded. Looking at her, Gennady Petrovich quietly said, "Let's go home too. We'll sort it out tomorrow."

All the way home Lyudmila sat, frowning, staring out the window. Her thoughts were confused. She worried about her son, about her daughter-in-law, whom she sincerely loved, about how everything would turn out now. Deep down, she pitied Elizaveta and reproached Alexander: "How could he? She did so much for him. And she's such a good girl, hardworking, kind-hearted."

"Has he gone mad or something?" But she didn't dare to say this to her son's face. She was afraid that it would drag on into a long quarrel. And she didn't want any more shocks that day.

Thus ended the anniversary, which was supposed to be one of the happiest days for Lyudmila, but turned into a real family drama.

The next morning turned out to be cool, though sunny. Alexander woke up in his apartment. He had returned there late at night. The apartment was spacious, belonging to him. He bought it when things started to go uphill. Elizaveta had lived here with him for the last couple of years, although legally she had her own apartment, but they hardly ever went there. Now he woke up and realized that she wouldn't be back.

The kitchen was a mess. Yesterday he hadn't bothered to clean up, he had thrown his jacket on a chair, stuck a glass with the remains of whiskey in the sink. Alexander felt gloomy, but he kept telling himself, I did the right thing. I need a woman of a different level. In fact, this other woman was already looming on the horizon, an employee from their office, an attractive blonde named Karina. She actively showed interest in him, sent cute messages, met him a couple of times outside of work, and Alexander was sure that she would be a more comfortable companion. But why did he feel so uneasy?

He looked at his phone; there were several messages from friends and relatives. Someone wrote that it was a shame it turned out this way. Someone wrote, "Why are you acting so recklessly?" Someone wrote, "Aren't you going to come back?" He didn't want to talk to anyone, but there were also messages from Karina with polite interest. "Sasha, how are you? Is everything alright? I can drop by if you want."

He thought and replied, "Come over in the evening." Not because he was happy, but rather to distract himself.

Meanwhile, Elizaveta's morning also started early. She slept poorly, tossing and turning all night, waking up. Eventually, she got up at 6:00 am, made coffee, and began to tidy up her apartment, as if trying to put her thoughts in order. She didn't know exactly how to file for divorce, how to divide the property. She had rights to a part of the business in which she participated on an equal footing with Alexander. At least, she had invested some money at the start, but now she wasn't worried about that, but about the feeling of emptiness. Six years of relationship, five of them in marriage. And now it all crumbled in an instant.

A phone call. It was Svetlana, a friend.

"Lis, hi. How are you?"

"More or less. I slept badly."

"I'll come to you now with pastries. I made homemade pastries. Still warm. And we'll talk."

"Thank you, I'll be glad."

An hour later, Svetlana was already sitting on the sofa in Elizaveta's living room, spreading fresh croissants and other pastries on a plate. She was a girl full of energy, optimistic, with light short hair. They had been friends since their student years. It was she who supported Elizaveta when she first arrived from her village to the city and entered the university.

"Well, Lis, tell me. How are you really?" Svetlana started the conversation, pouring herself some coffee.

Elizaveta smiled sadly. "How am I? I seem to have freed myself from humiliation, but my heart is empty. And it's offensive that yesterday, in front of everyone, it was like they spat in my soul."

"You know," Svetlana smiled, handing her a croissant, "I'd be happy in your place that it ended faster than it could have dragged on. He's been suppressing you for a long time," criticized. "Now you don't have to pretend anymore that everything is okay." And agree, saying such words publicly, that's his shame, not yours.

"Yes, you're right," Elizaveta nodded. "I think he wanted a show, for me to burst into hysterics, but I didn't give him that."

"Exactly. He was counting on your tears, and you did him dirty, you stayed calm. Well done, Lisa, that's the best move."

They laughed, and Elizaveta felt a little better. Svetlana was one of those friends who can turn even the most difficult situation into a push for positive change.

"What are you planning next? Divorce?"

"Well, yes, I think so. We'll start with a joint statement. I still want to approach the issue civilly. We don't have a prenuptial agreement, but we can divide everything reasonably. We have a common business, although it's officially registered to both of us, but the main share is Sasha's. Something will come to me. And I'll get a job myself. I have connections, offers. I won't disappear, I know."

Svetlana nodded understandingly. "You have an excellent education. You're a professional in marketing, and you also have translation skills. They'll snatch you up, so don't worry. In short, you're your own boss."

"But what worries me is how Sasha's parents will perceive all this. Especially his mother. She always supported me. I feel sorry for her."

"But there's nothing you can do about it," Svetlana concluded. "She's a grown woman, she'll figure it out. If she loves you, she'll continue to communicate. Even if you and Sasha get divorced. And her son is her problem."

Elizaveta smiled sadly. Her friend was right in some ways. Lyudmila could continue to communicate with her daughter-in-law after the divorce, but it would be a different relationship. In any case, life will put everything in its place.

They talked a little more about work options for Elizaveta, about the possible division of property. Svetlana was determined to support her friend and help her start a new chapter in her life. Then she left, promising to call and meet within a week.

Alone, Elizaveta decided to deal with her mail and documents, which she hadn't sorted through for a long time. She turned on her laptop, and the first thing she saw was an email from a potential employer who offered her a marketing position in an international company. A few weeks ago they had called her, but then she doubted whether she needed to change jobs, as she was helping her husband with his project. Now everything had become clearer. It's worth a try.

So began a new day, filled with sadness, but also with some hope for a different future. Alexander, by that time, was busy with his affairs. In the morning he ran into the office, looked at the reports, told the secretary to reschedule several meetings. He had a small agency that dealt with, among other things, investments and real estate market analysis. Elizaveta had worked with him as a consultant and translator. She knew English and German, often went on business trips with Alexander. Now he understood that he would have to find another specialist to replace her, or at least decide who would do this work. However, a big question was how her departure would affect business connections, because Elizaveta had been the face of the company in some negotiations.

Colleagues congratulated him on his mother's past anniversary, asking how everything went. Alexander briefly answered, "Normally," without going into details. He didn't want to talk about the public disgrace, but rumors were already circulating. Some of the employees also communicated with relatives and knew that a loud scene had taken place at the party.

By lunchtime, Karina, the blonde who worked in the sales department, came to see him. Tall, attractive, in a tight skirt and a fashionable blouse. She seemed to him to be just right in terms of appearance and demeanor. He liked her light jokes, flirtatious laughter, and complaisance.

She sat opposite him at the table, smiled her usual smile. "Hi, Sasha. How are you?"

"So-so." He looked away, then looked at her. "I'll have some free time this evening. Will you come over?"

Karina ran her hand through her hair, trying to look seductive. "Of course, I'll come over. What time?"

"Come around 7:00. Let's try ordering pizza or something."

She tilted her head to the side. "Great. By the way, how's...?" She wanted to ask about his wife, but stopped. "I mean, is everything alright?"

"Yes, Karina, let's not discuss it." Alexander clearly didn't want to go into details. "We'll figure it out somehow later." He was uncomfortable talking about this even to Karina. Maybe he wanted a relationship with her, but discussing conflicts with his wife was not the case. It was too much.

Karina understood that the topic was taboo and quickly switched the conversation to work matters. Then she flirted, stood up, and left the office, swaying her hips. Alexander felt his head slightly spin from her perfume. "Maybe this is exactly what I need? Ease without drama," he thought. Lisa always had her own opinion, her own principles. And I need a woman who will understand me. But deep down he knew that Lisa understood him too. Moreover, she was not just a beautiful wrapper for him, but a full-fledged partner who helped in business, knew how to listen, give sensible advice. Karina seemed different, beautiful, but somehow empty. He pushed the thought away. I made my choice anyway. Period.

The day flew by, and in the evening Karina appeared at his door with groceries. She decided to make a home-cooked dinner. Alexander appreciated her efforts, but couldn't fully distract himself from thoughts of the scandal. Nevertheless, he tried to appear cheerful, told jokes, and then they sat on the sofa in each other's arms, sipping wine. Karina was affectionate, smiled, talked about a trendy boutique she was going to visit tomorrow. However, the longer she talked, the more clearly Alexander realized that the topic of conversation wasn't interesting to him. He tried to support her, nodded, interjected. "Yes, of course, great, cool store," but inside he felt emptiness. Maybe I went too far with leaving the family? The thought suddenly flashed in his head. But there's nothing to be done now. He pushed away his doubts, trying to convince himself that everything would be fine.

Several more days passed. Elizaveta got busy with her resume and considered the job offer, and also made an appointment with a family law attorney. She wanted to figure out how to correctly file for divorce, what her rights were, and how best to deal with the business. During these few days, Alexander didn't call her. She didn't call him either. Everything was clear. But Lyudmila called very gently and cautiously.

"Lisa, hello. It's me, Sasha's mother. Or rather, I don't know what to call you now."

"Oh, Lyudmila Alekseevna, I still respect you and am ready to communicate."

"Forgive me, I just wanted to know if everything is alright with you. I'm very worried that Sasha treated you like that."

Elizaveta smiled through her sadness. "I'm fine. I won't disappear. Thank you for worrying. The main thing is that you don't worry. I'm very sorry that this happened at your anniversary."

Lyudmila sighed bitterly. "Yes, that holiday was spoiled. But nothing, life goes on. Lisa, if you need anything, don't hesitate. And I hope you'll forgive me. Maybe I overlooked something."

"Oh, no, you were always kind to me. Thank you for everything."

They fell silent for a moment. Then Lyudmila quietly added, "Daughter, I understand that you and Sasha probably decided to divorce, but know that if you have a desire to chat, you can always come to visit me. I... I will accept you, and my door is always open."

Tears welled up in Elizaveta's eyes. "Thank you, Mom, Lyudmila Alekseevna. Thank you. It's very important for me to know that you feel well towards me."

The conversation ended. Elizaveta stood, looking out the window, feeling mixed emotions, warmth from her mother-in-law's words and pain from the understanding that this wonderful woman was suffering because of her son's actions. But what to do?

A few weeks later, life began to take on new forms. The divorce papers were filed. Elizaveta filled out the application herself, signed it, and Alexander signed without objection. They had to discuss the division of the joint business. Elizaveta asked the lawyer to send a letter with proposals. Either she sells her share to Alexander, or they arrange some compensation for her. In the end, they decided that she would leave the business, and Alexander would pay her an agreed-upon sum. The contract was signed, and their business relationship ended as well.

All this time Alexander continued to meet with Karina, even moved some of her things to his place, but their cohabitation didn't bring him much happiness. Karina, of course, was sweet and looked good next to him, but over time it became increasingly apparent that she was mainly interested in expensive purchases, parties, and photoshoots. He felt that he couldn't talk to her about serious things, about politics, about business. He was bored, but it was too late to talk about it.

Elizaveta, on the contrary, got a job in a large international company, where she was gladly accepted thanks to her excellent language skills and experience in marketing. She became engrossed in her new job, began to build new contacts. She had enough money for the near future from her own salary and from the compensation received during the divorce. She renovated her apartment, changed some of the furniture, created a space that really met her tastes and desires. In the evenings she drank tea, read career development books, went to the gym, and started attending dance classes. A long-held dream she hadn't had time for before.

And only once, having run into Alexander in court, where they were signing the final documents on the dissolution of the marriage, did she look into his eyes and not recognize the man she had once loved. He looked lost, depressed. To her greeting he replied with a short "Hi," and then they exchanged only formal phrases with the lawyer. In one glance she felt that he might regret his actions. But it was too late. Later they signed the documents, shook hands, though it turned out rather strainedly, and went their separate ways. For Elizaveta, this meant a closed chapter. She wasn't angry with him anymore. She understood that it was his choice and in some ways his tragedy. But now her life was her own, and the nickname "country bumpkin" no longer sounded like an insult. Because she knew what she deserved.

Six months passed. Lyudmila periodically called Elizaveta, invited her for tea. Elizaveta sometimes dropped by when she was nearby. This happened irregularly, but still maintained a warm connection between them. Alexander, meanwhile, lived sometimes with Karina, sometimes without Karina. They quarreled, reconciled, everything was somehow not glued together. He felt that he had let go of a person who was truly close to him. But pride didn't allow him to admit his mistake, and he continued to build his life on the ruins of his former illusions.

Once, when Elizaveta dropped in to Lyudmila's for tea, she had a homemade pie. They sat in the kitchen, talking as if nothing had happened. Lyudmila asked, "Lis, how are you? Is your heart free?"

Elizaveta smiled, thinking that the question sounded old-fashioned, but pleasant. "For now, yes, it's free. I'm busy with work, and you know, I feel so good, not rushing."

Lyudmila nodded. "I think you'll meet your love again. You're too good to be alone."

"Thank you," Elizaveta thanked her. "And how are you doing? Alexander, how...?"

Lyudmila shrugged. "He doesn't really keep me in the loop. He says everything is fine, but I see that he's not very happy. Karina... somehow they don't look like a couple made in heaven, to be honest. But it's his life."

Elizaveta smiled sadly. In fact, she no longer cared much about her ex-husband's personal life, but somewhere deep down there remained a twinge of regret. Everything could have been different if he had changed, if he had learned to appreciate me, but that's in the realm of fantasy.

Several more months passed, and Elizaveta, more mature and more self-confident, achieved success in her new job. She was appointed head of the marketing department. She traveled on business trips to different cities, met many interesting people. Looking in the mirror, she saw the same beautiful girl, but now with a thoughtful look and a spark of independence. "Life doesn't stop there," she told herself.

Sometimes she remembered that scene in the restaurant: the hall, the shocked faces of the guests, the microphone in Alexander's hands, the loud cry of "country bumpkin." And her short, but so decisive answer. That evening she proved to herself that she could stand up for herself, that she could not succumb to panic and hysteria. And, perhaps, that was the main lesson. You have to build your own life, not allow anyone to humiliate you.

That's how the story of one family celebration ended, which turned into a loud breakup. But life itself went on for the characters, with its ups and downs, disappointments and hopes. And most importantly, everyone learned a lesson. Alexander learned that neglecting sincere human relationships is dangerous. It can disappear forever. Elizaveta learned that no relationship is worth one's own self-respect and that being a "country bumpkin" is not shameful if you are a genuine, open person at heart, know how to work and take responsibility for your fate. Lyudmila learned that children grow up and their mistakes cannot always be corrected, but one can maintain a kind heart and support those who deserve it.

Of course, life is not a melodrama where everything works out perfectly, but sometimes the most dramatic turns open the way to a better version of the future. Elizaveta understood this, having left the charity show that had long ceased to inspire her and starting her own path to happiness. She glanced at her watch, leaned back on the sofa, and suddenly realized that it would soon be exactly a year since that noisy and absurd holiday in the restaurant where Alexander had loudly announced his departure from her. Since then, her whole life and the life of her family had spun in a different spiral. Elizaveta took a sip of green tea and forced herself to distract from her memories. Too much new and important was happening here and now to constantly look back. But some details of the past still reminded her of themselves.

She sat in her bright living room, now furnished in full accordance with her tastes. A soft white sofa, shelves with her favorite books, a couple of watercolor paintings on the wall. Once she lived in a spacious, impersonally decorated apartment with Alexander, trying to maintain a certain designer chic that he demanded. And now she had her own home, where every little thing reflected her own preferences. The furniture and decor were in calm pastel colors. No pathos, but everything was solid and cozy. And in this setting she felt like the master of her own life.

On the coffee table lay a fresh issue of the Market Vision magazine, dedicated to business and marketing. Opening it, Elizaveta saw her face on one of the pages. The interview she had recently given was accompanied by her business photo, where she was in a strict suit, talking about the company's new approach to promoting international brands. She smiled slightly. Who would have thought that I would go this way and become a respected specialist with a good reputation. Once I couldn't even imagine that I would be able to achieve something myself. And yet, somewhere deep down she remembered where it all began and how much pain this freedom and professional growth cost her.

A phone call interrupted her thoughts. Lyudmila Alekseevna's name was displayed on the screen. Elizaveta politely answered, "Hello, Lyudmila Alekseevna."

"Hi, Lisa," her former mother-in-law replied in a warm voice. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No, no, I'm free. How are you?"

"Yes, I'm fine. You know, I remembered that tomorrow will be exactly a year since... well, since my anniversary. And, you know, I decided to have a small family dinner. This time a modest one, only for the closest people. Maybe you could drop by? I understand that you and Sasha have long been strangers, but you're not a stranger to me."

Elizaveta frowned, her heart skipped a beat. The thought of being at the same table with Alexander was unpleasant. However, remembering how tenderly Lyudmila had always treated her, she wasn't in a hurry to refuse. "Lyudmila Alekseevna, I really appreciate your invitation and that you haven't forgotten about me, but is this really a good idea?"

I understand what you mean, - Lyudmila said sadly. But I invited few people: me, Gennady Petrovich, Sergey with his wife, and Sasha, of course. I don't know if he will come with Karina or without her, but it's purely a family affair. We are not going to repeat that pomp. After all, it's not an anniversary, but an anniversary. Or something like that. Anniversary of what? The thought flashed through Elizaveta's head, of how he called me a country bumpkin to the whole hall. A bitter thought, but she understood that Lyudmila meant another side, the anniversary of the noisy party that shocked everyone. Lyudmila probably still has a residue of negative feelings, and she wants to smooth out that negativity by gathering close people quietly and peacefully.

"Okay," Elizaveta replied after a short pause. "I appreciate your offer." "Let's do it this way. If I suddenly realize that I can't overcome myself, I'll call and tell you." And right now, I can't promise you directly, but maybe I'll come for at least an hour or two.

"Thank you, Lisa," Lyudmila said gratefully. "I will be very glad to see you. Come without gifts. The main thing is just come as welcome guests." They exchanged a few more polite phrases, and Elizaveta ended the call. On the one hand, she wanted to show Lyudmila that she didn't hold a grudge and really thank her for the good relationship. On the other hand, the oppressive memory of how she was called a country bumpkin in the presence of fifty guests still remained. Since then, Alexander has hardly contacted her, and she didn't particularly strive for contact either. But for Lyudmila's sake, maybe it's worth overcoming the awkwardness? Probably, I'll go at least for a short time, - Elizaveta thought and remembered that she had a day off tomorrow.

The day off arrived. During this time, she thought about what she could buy for the table, because she didn't like to come empty-handed. She decided to take a cake from a good pastry shop. Although they said without gifts, coming without anything at all seemed ridiculous. In the morning, she went to the gym, then did a light hairstyle, chose an elegant but not flashy dark blue dress and comfortable pumps to go with it. She tried to look neat and businesslike, without excesses. Finally, after lunch, she gathered her courage, got in the car, and drove to Lyudmila and Gennady Petrovich's house. It was a country estate where she had quite often visited during her marriage to Alexander. She had taken care of the garden with them, helped Lyudmila make preparations. Those were pleasant times, only now they remained in the past.

Parking at the familiar gate, she got out with a neat box of cake in her hands. The air was clean. Around the greenery, a flower garden was visible, neatly trimmed, as always. Approaching the door, Elizaveta noticed that she was already being waited for. Lyudmila peeked out from behind the glass door.

"Lisa!" she exclaimed joyfully, opening the door. "It's good that you came." They hugged. Lyudmila had the look of a happy hostess, rejoicing that the guest really came. Gennady Petrovich also came out into the hallway, greeted her politely, but as always, reservedly.

"Come in, take your coat off," Lyudmila offered. "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too," Elizaveta smiled. "Here, I brought a little something sweet for tea. I hope you won't be offended, you, of course, won't."

Lyudmila took the box and carefully placed it on a table. "We'll have to cut it later." Elizaveta looked around. A calm atmosphere reigned in the house. In the dining room, the table was set. There were classic homemade salads, cuts, hot dishes in the oven. But nothing pompous. Indeed, a modest family dinner, as they had said. Her heart immediately felt a little warmer.

"Hi, Lisa," Sergey's voice came from the living room. Behind him, his wife Alyona peeked out, smiling at Elizaveta.

"Hi, guys," Elizaveta replied briefly. "Long time no see."

"Yes, a long time," Alyona supported. "We are all somehow busy with work, children..."

"And did you bring the children?" Elizaveta asked, immediately remembering that Sergey had two little ones.

"No," Sergey laughed. "We left them with Alyona's grandmother. Let today be an adult evening, otherwise our little ones run around and make noise."

Elizaveta remembered how she once babysat these children when they were tiny and came here. Nostalgia flickered in her soul, but she drove away the gloomy thoughts. Now everything is different.

Suddenly, footsteps in the corridor, and before her in the doorway stood Alexander. He was wearing dark trousers and a black shirt without a tie. His hair was neatly styled, but his face showed some tension. He saw Elizaveta, froze for a moment, then finally pulled himself together and nodded.

"Hi, Lisa."

"Hello, Sasha," she replied in an even voice, feeling something constrict inside. He looked a little thinner, some features of his face resembled his last year's self, but without his former self-confident smirk. She quickly glanced at his hands. The ring on his ring finger was gone. It disappeared shortly after the divorce. Her own wedding ring had also been in a box for a long time.

"Glad you could come," he said, trying to look calm.

"Lyudmila Alekseevna invited me," Elizaveta replied. "I couldn't refuse."

He gave a wry smile, wanted to say something, but coughed. Apparently, he himself didn't understand how to behave in this situation. However, Lyudmila helped, hastening to announce: "Friends, everyone come to the table, before the hot food gets cold." "I tried so hard, I cooked everything myself." They met eyes for a split second and went to different sides of the table. Elizaveta sat next to Alyona, opposite Sergey, next to Gennady Petrovich, and Alexander a little further away, next to his mother. The table was beautifully set, but home-style. A tablecloth with a snowy floral pattern, snow-white plates, a bouquet of garden flowers in the middle. Lyudmila poured wine into the glasses and tried to smooth out the awkwardness with conversation.

"How are you doing, my children?" she asked and looked at Sergey and Alyona.

"Fine, Mom," Sergey replied. "Everything is going its course at work. Alyona continues to work remotely. The children are growing like mushrooms."

"And how about you, Lisa?" she turned to Elizaveta, still calling her "you," as if emphasizing a certain distance, although there was kind curiosity in her voice.

"Yes, everything is fine with me," Elizaveta replied, feeling everyone's eyes turn to her. "I work for an international company. I recently got a promotion. An article just came out in a magazine, they interviewed me."

Lyudmila joyfully clapped her hands. "Oh, Lisa, I read it. I knew, I knew it was you, I recognized you from the photo right away. I was so proud, I thought, here is our girl. Smart girl."

Elizaveta blushed slightly. Noticing that Alexander was listening without interrupting, and his face was strange, either approval or slight sadness. As if he was happy for her, but realized that her successes had long ceased to concern him.

"Yes, thank you," Elizaveta replied modestly. "I'm interested in it myself. A new stage in life."

"Well, that's wonderful," Sergey nodded. "I remember how you helped Sasha with his investment business, so it's not surprising that you've grown to such a position."

Alexander remained silent, playing with his fork. He knew that Elizaveta was an excellent specialist, but hearing all this now was painful for him. Some pride in her mixed with a feeling of loss. Gennady Petrovich didn't like to discuss personal matters for a long time emotionally, so he quickly changed the subject.

"Lyudmila, what do we have for the main course? The smell is amazing."

"Duck with apples," she replied. "Let's, let's, I'll help you cut it now."

The hostess began to serve, cutting the fragrant duck, giving pieces to everyone. The atmosphere relaxed a little. Conversations started about the garden, about the weather, about some minor everyday matters. Elizaveta was surprised that no one asked about Karina, but she remembered that Lyudmila had mentioned that she didn't know if Alexander would come alone or with his girlfriend. Apparently, he came without her.

When everyone had already tasted the first course and moved on to the second, Lyudmila suddenly said: "Guys, I understand that our evening is not easy, because a year ago that unpleasant scene happened. Today I would like to somehow, maybe, apologize to both of you, to Lisa and to Sasha. Although I am not directly to blame for how it turned out, it was still my anniversary, and I didn't protect you from the scandal." With these words, she sighed, and her face became sad.

Elizaveta quietly said: "You have nothing to do with it, Lyudmila Alekseevna."

Alexander also blinked and said: "Mom, I'm sorry that I spoiled your holiday then. I understand that now."

Lyudmila shook her head. "Yes, the holiday turned out... but all I dreamed of afterward was for both of you to be happy. And I won't judge who is right, who is wrong. Perhaps both of you had your own reasons. I only hope that this will not leave a lifelong resentment in your hearts."

"I think we've all moved on," Elizaveta replied politely, trying to give her words calmness. "This is the past."

Alexander nodded, although his face twitched slightly. He raised his glass, looked at his mother. "Maybe we'll drink to the fact that our family will have more joyful events and fewer dramas?"

"Good idea," Lyudmila agreed, and everyone clinked glasses.

The rest of the dinner went relatively calmly. They talked about travel, about Sergey's business, about Alyona's successes in her online activities. Elizaveta participated in the conversation, answered questions about her work and vacation plans. She would like to go abroad in the autumn, possibly to Italy or Spain. Everything sounded benevolent, but the feeling lingered, "and yet we are sitting here, as an ex-wife and the family of an ex-husband."

After dessert, when Lyudmila poured everyone a cup of tea, and the cake, the very one that Elizaveta brought, was cut, what Elizaveta was afraid of happened. Gennady Petrovich and Sergey went outside to check something around the house. Alyona and Lyudmila went to the kitchen to put the leftover food in containers. Only Elizaveta and Alexander remained in the living room, sitting opposite each other at the table.

He leaned back in his chair, looked at her directly. "Lisa, how are you? It's clear that everything is good for you, but just how are you in general?"

She took a sip of tea, trying to maintain a neutral tone. "As you see, I'm fine. I live, I work, I develop."

He subtly shook his head. "I heard about your appointment. Congratulations. A serious position."

"Thank you," she replied briefly.

A slight pause ensued, and he finally decided to continue. "I wanted, by the way, to apologize. In the sense, in the sense that I didn't apologize earlier. And for those words in the restaurant. I behaved terribly."

Elizaveta felt a prickling sensation inside. For a year, she had gotten used to thinking that he didn't feel any regrets. And now he's apologizing.

"A lot of time has passed," she said, briefly meeting his eyes. "And then we got divorced. Consider that we closed this issue."

"Probably, yes. But I understand that I behaved badly. And the way I called you," he sighed. "In short, you didn't deserve such words."

"I understand," she nodded. "Maybe I was wrong in something too. We haven't talked heart-to-heart for a long time, and everything was based on appearances. But I think we shouldn't rake it all up again. Everything is already decided. Everyone has their own life."

She really didn't want to slide into mutual accusations. A year ago, she had said everything, and now repeating the same thing didn't make sense.

"Yes, my own life," he repeated hoarsely. "Lisa, can I ask one question?"

"Depending on what," Elizaveta froze, not knowing what to expect.

"Are you happy now?"

She smiled slightly and answered: "Yes, I think so. I have a favorite job, friends, prospects. I feel that I'm moving forward."

He nodded, and in that nod, there was a lot: bitterness from realizing her independence and reconciliation with the fact that she could perfectly manage without him.

"I'm glad for you," he finally said.

Elizaveta responded with a look, calm, impeccable, and really felt that she didn't feel anger or resentment. The past had faded into oblivion, and now she felt some, perhaps quiet pity for him, but decided not to show it.

At that moment, Lyudmila and Alyona returned to the room, followed by Sergey and Gennady. The awkward silence dissipated. The conversation again shifted to general topics. Elizaveta noticed that Alexander was trying to participate, sometimes joking, adding remarks. Apparently, he wanted to prove to everyone that he didn't intend to slide into conflicts again.

Toward evening, after thanking them for the cozy evening, Elizaveta was getting ready to leave. Lyudmila saw her to the door, hugged her tightly goodbye. Alexander also came out at the threshold, who helped her carry her handbag with the goodies. Lyudmila persistently put homemade pastries and some vegetables from the greenhouse for her.

"Thank you," Elizaveta thanked, taking the bag.

"You're welcome," he replied. "If you ever need something for business, you know, maybe we'll cross paths in the business sphere. You can call."

She politely nodded, but didn't promise to call. She got in the car and drove away. On the way, looking at the sunset sky, she felt a slight excitement, but without agonizing anguish. "We're just people who were once close, and now we're not," she thought. And that was exactly how it was.

A few more days passed. She returned to her usual work rhythm: meetings, presentations, negotiations with foreign partners. Her new boss, Philip Anatolyevich, was pleased with her successes and planned to send Elizaveta on a long business trip to Europe, where a new office was opening. This prospect had been alluring her for several months: several months in Europe. A new experience, the opportunity to travel and establish contacts with foreign partners. She didn't have any personal ties that would keep her in the city. So why not take a chance?

She shared this thought with her friend Svetlana over a cup of coffee in their favorite cafe in the center.

"Listen, Lisa, this is such a great opportunity!" Svetlana exclaimed, an energetic blonde with a short haircut and constantly burning eyes.

"Go, of course, I think so too," Elizaveta smiled, taking a sip of cappuccino. "It's just a little scary. It's not for a week, but for at least three months, after all."

"But what a progress! You'll meet someone interesting there too."

Elizaveta laughed. "Honestly, I'm not striving for new acquaintances yet. I'm comfortable alone now, but if life throws a person, I won't refuse."

"That's right," Svetlana winked. "I'm glad that everything is good for you. If you saw yourself a year ago, what was your look like? Full of pain and disappointment. And now you're glowing."

"Maybe everything had to go through this, to become stronger," Elizaveta said thoughtfully. She remembered her grandmother's words that whatever happens, it's for the best, if your heart is pure and your conscience is clear. And so it turned out that, having survived humiliation and divorce, she opened a new page in her life and was now moving forward step by step.

Meanwhile, Alexander's life was not flowing so smoothly. His relationship with Karina kept going on and off. She was a striking blonde with a model appearance, adored shopping, parties, and fashionable places, but increasingly reproached him for working too much and not resting enough. And Alexander himself sometimes felt that he was simply bored with Karina intellectually. With Elizaveta, he could talk about the market, about analytics, about literature, and even about philosophy. She always supported his ideas in something, but at the same time, she knew how to argue. And Karina only yawned at the mention of any complex topics.

In his office, he also had difficulties. Elizaveta's absence affected a number of deals with foreign partners, and he couldn't quickly find a specialist of a similar level. Business went downhill. Alexander understood that it would be difficult to close all financial obligations, and he thought about selling some assets.

One evening, returning home, he found an empty apartment. Karina had packed her things and sent him a message: "Sorry, Sasha, I'm tired of you constantly being in trouble and never giving me what I want. I'm leaving."

He experienced a strange mixture of relief and resentment, and suddenly acutely felt the loneliness he seemed never to have felt in his marriage to Elizaveta, even when they quarreled. And it was in this state that he received a phone call from Sergey.

"Hello, Sasha, listen, I have an idea. Dad says that we need to somehow optimize the business, and you seem to have problems. Can I help?"

Alexander twisted his lips. He didn't like to admit weakness to his younger brother, but he still exhaled. "Yes, there's a problem. I was thinking how to bring all this to a new level, but I lack investments and normal people."

"Well, I can invest," Sergey offered. "I have some savings. Plus, I can connect my acquaintances. But this is if we run the business together."

"You want to become my partner?" Alexander asked again.

"Yes. So what? We are still one family. Moreover, I have management experience, although in a different area, but the principles are similar."

"Let's meet, discuss."

Alexander thought that perhaps this was a good way out. Of course, they didn't always agree on character, but Sergey was a sensible person, softer and not stupid.

"Okay," Alexander agreed. "Come to the office tomorrow, I'll show you the papers. We'll see where and how we can expand or reformat."

He hung up and suddenly thought about how unpredictably life changes. A year ago, he loudly boasted to the whole restaurant that everything was fine with him, and humiliated his wife. And now his wife is progressing in top international marketing, and he's sitting in an empty apartment and thinking where to get the money to save the situation. Such a strange collision with reality.

In the morning, he and Sergey discussed everything and concluded that serious help was needed to restructure the firm. Sergey offered to combine their assets and partially change the direction of activity. Alexander understood that this was a real chance to get out of the pit, although he would have to step back from pride and share power in the company.

"Sasha, I also think we need a good consultant on advertising and marketing," Sergey added, looking through the reports. "Of course, I'm not a specialist, but I see that everything is outdated there, social networks are barely maintained, content is not updated, communication with clients is weak."

"Yes, I know," Alexander mumbled, remembering how Elizaveta used to oversee these processes. "I'll look for someone, maybe through acquaintances. Maybe you'll contact Lisa?" Sergey suggested, raising his eyebrows.

"Hm." Alexander nervously twitched the corner of his mouth. "Lisa, she has a different job. She's highly regarded there. And after everything that happened between us..."

"I'm not saying you'll offer her to come back. You can just arrange a consultation. She's a professional. Maybe she'll give a couple of valuable tips, and you'll pay for it, like any outside consultant."

Alexander scratched his chin, thinking. In principle, Sergey was right. Lisa knew her stuff, and she was much more competent than many. But how to offer her help after all the grievances?

"I'll think about it," he finally said. "But I doubt she'll agree."

"Try," Sergey winked. "It can't get worse."

On that they parted. Alexander was very preoccupied, but the topic didn't leave his head. A week passed. He tried to find a suitable marketing specialist among his acquaintances or on the market. He found a couple of agencies, but their prices were either exorbitant or, conversely, cheap, which indicated a low level of services. Finally, the thought came to his mind again: "Maybe, really, call Lisa?" "Let it be stupid, but the consultation can be discussed in a purely businesslike manner."

For a long time, he hesitated to dial her number. He recalled their conversations, her firm character, how she, despite her vulnerability, was able to defend herself. Finally, one evening, sitting in his kitchen, he decided and dialed the familiar number.

"Yes."

"Hello? This is... Alexander," he said, trying to sound confident. "Sorry to bother you."

A short pause hung in the receiver. Elizaveta clearly didn't expect his call.

"Yes, I'm listening," she replied then quite evenly. "Listen, I have a business proposal for you. We have problems with marketing in our company. We need to rebuild the strategy, and I understand that you are one of the strongest specialists I know. Could you, maybe, on a paid basis, give a consultation or at least recommend someone?"

The pause became even longer. Elizaveta tried to understand exactly what he was asking. Consulting his company after she left it with resentment sounded almost anecdotal. But on the other hand, why not? If he was really ready to pay, then it was pure business.

"Hmm, I need to think," she finally said. "I'm very busy right now. I'm going on a business trip for several months soon. But maybe I can arrange some kind of strategic session for you for three or four hours and give direction on how to proceed."

"That would be great," Alexander cheered up. "We can have such a meeting at any place convenient for you. We'll pay according to your commercial rate."

"Okay, then I'll look at my calendar. Maybe next week on Friday I'll come to you for a couple of hours. We'll discuss what I can do."

Alexander sighed with relief. "Okay, let's write, clarify the time. Thank you, Lisa."

"You're welcome," she replied briefly and hung up. It was strange for her to realize that she would become a kind of hired consultant for her ex-husband.

Elizaveta decided to wear a strict pantsuit, took her laptop, strategy materials, as well as presentations that she usually showed at internal training in her company. She was going to conduct a short brainstorming session with Alexander's employees, understand their current situation, and then give recommendations.

Arriving at the office, which had partially moved to another building rented together with Sergey, she noticed that everything was much more modest than a year or two ago. The furnishings were not as luxurious, fewer employees. But she was greeted politely. The assistant girl led her to the meeting room, where Alexander, Sergey, and a couple more people from the department were already waiting. When she entered, a tense silence hung in the room for a second. Alexander quickly stood up to greet her. Sergey smiled.

"Hi, Lisa. Glad to see you."

"Hi, Sergey!" she nodded and turned to Alexander. "Hello." "Well, let's get down to business right away." She tried to keep a businesslike smile on her face, without arrogance, but without excessive friendliness, so that it would be clear to everyone that this was work.

"Of course," Alexander replied. "Sit down, please, we have a projector if needed."

They settled down at a long table. Elizaveta brought up her presentation on the screen: "Marketing Strategy Audit. Basic Steps." First, she asked them to talk about current problems, approaches, clients, target audience, and budget. She asked many questions, made notes. Alexander answered gloomily, trying to be as accurate as possible. Sergey picked up, sometimes adding details. The other employees went through papers, shared their complaints and ideas.

"I understand," Elizaveta nodded. "Look, the first thing you need to pay attention to is positioning. You don't fully understand who your key client is. You mix investments, real estate, and consulting. This is possible, but you need to clearly segment, and then promote through different channels."

She switched slides, explained where to find freelancers, how to run social networks, how to use LinkedIn if it comes to foreign partners. She talked about how to properly organize a website, optimize the content plan. Alexander and Sergey listened so attentively, as if they were students in a lecture. Sometimes Alexander asked something specific, and Elizaveta patiently explained, showed examples.

"In case you want to enter the German market, you need to consider the language specifics. By the way, remember, you had German partners there. Why didn't you establish content on the German website?"

Alexander blushed. "Um, well, there was no one to do this after your departure."

Elizaveta just shook her head, continuing to talk about how to fix the situation. Sergey occasionally remarked: "Yes, this is important. We really missed clients from Germany."

In general, the work went productively. By the end of the meeting, which lasted about three hours, Elizaveta compiled a list of recommendations, a strategy summary, and estimated approximate budgets. Alexander thanked her and said that they were ready to pay for the consultation. She named a sum that was not too small, but not overpriced for the market.

"Okay, the assistant will prepare the contract now," Alexander confirmed.

In the corridor, while they were waiting for the assistant to bring the necessary papers, they were alone. Sergey went out to discuss details with an employee, and Elizaveta stood, flipping through her phone. Alexander looked at her from the side. A strict jacket, hair gathered in a neat bun, confidence in her eyes. He remembered the old days, when her presence in the office was a familiar part of his life.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "You really helped a lot."

"You're welcome," she replied, continuing to look at the screen.

He took half a step closer, gathering his courage. "Listen, I understand you're leaving on a business trip, but maybe we could somehow... I don't know... have coffee as friends?"

Elizaveta looked away from her phone, looked at him. The question didn't surprise her, but it didn't please her either.

"Alexander," she said calmly, "Let's not confuse friendship and business relations. We haven't been friends for a long time, and honestly, I don't see any point in changing that."

He

He weakly nodded, slumping his shoulders. I understand. Forgive me, there’s no need to apologize, there’s simply no need. We conducted the consultation, “I’m glad to help,” within the bounds of professional competence, but the personal history, it’s in the past.

He couldn’t utter a word in response. At that moment, the assistant appeared with documents, and they returned to the conference room, where Alexander quickly signed everything: he handed Elizabeth a copy and a check for payment. She thanked him, carefully put the papers in a folder and said, “I hope everything works out for you.” If anything, write to my email. Thank you, Liza, said Sergey, seeing her to the elevator. I really appreciate your help. Good luck to you – she replied briefly.

Exiting the building, Elizabeth took a deep breath. Her heart was beating faster than she would have liked. Still, the old wound was making itself known, but she didn’t regret agreeing. Now she felt she had finally closed the gestalt. She gave them professional advice, took payment, parted without unnecessary emotions. Everything.

A few days later she flew to Europe, where she immersed herself in new projects. There she lived in a small, cozy town, traveling on business to neighboring countries. In the evenings, if she had free time, she walked the streets, enjoyed the architecture, and tried the local cuisine. Svetlana sometimes wrote to her in the messenger: “Well, how’s Europe?” And Elizabeth responded with colorful photographs of ancient squares and lakes.

Time passed, and she made new acquaintances with colleagues from different countries. She felt she was becoming more open and free in communication. One of her colleagues in the marketing department, a Frenchman named Michel, showed a special interest in her, listened attentively to her ideas, invited her to lunch, walked her to the hotel, and gave her small tokens of affection. Elizabeth was flattered, but she was in no hurry to rush into a new relationship, fearing a repeat of old mistakes. However, Michel turned out to be a tactful man, ready to patiently build trust over time.

Meanwhile, Alexander and Sergey gradually raised the company, followed much of the advice, hired a new marketing specialist, made corrections to the website, strengthened social media, and began working with the German market. Results went up, and Alexander admitted that it had indeed been important to ask Elizabeth for help. He invested himself in the work. He had long since ended things with Karina, and didn’t particularly seek out new women, only occasionally going on a date, but nothing serious.

One day, when things were going well, he and Sergey decided to throw a small corporate party to celebrate successful deals. They gathered at a restaurant, invited employees, and raised a toast. Someone remembered how Elizabeth used to attend corporate parties, and how everything was somehow more soulful. Alexander pretended not to notice these reminiscences, but inside, something pinched. He looked at his glass of wine and mechanically recalled that scene a year ago. The microphone, her face, his insanely cruel words.

Stepping aside, he opened his phone and typed Elizabeth’s name into social media to find her profile. He saw that she was in Europe, that she had a lot of photos, that she was in restaurants, at conferences, with colleagues of different nationalities, smiling, looking happy. Alexander thought, “There she is, going her own way,” and didn’t write. He felt it was in the past.

A couple more months passed. Elizabeth continued to live abroad, managed to take a weekend trip to France. There she strolled along the Seine embankment with Michel, holding hands. Unexpectedly, even to herself, she felt a certain lightness and romantic excitement. Perhaps for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to think, “What if?”

With Karina, there was a separate story. Upon returning to the city, she tried a couple of times to re-establish contact with Alexander, but saw that he was cold. Then she switched to another man, leaving Alexander alone. In the end, Karina disappeared from view, leaving for the capital, where she got a job at a large modeling school.

Ludmila and Gennady’s family, seeing that their sons’ business was afloat, breathed a sigh of relief. But Ludmila herself wanted Alexander to find a worthy wife, have children, as it should be. Years go by, and Sasha is still… nothing. She sighed quietly, but didn’t want to forcibly intrude on his personal life, so as not to make things worse again.

Then winter came. The city where the family lived was covered with a snow blanket. And Elizabeth, for the first time in her life, was celebrating Christmas abroad, or rather, in two countries at once. She spent some time with Italian colleagues, and then went to France, where Michel invited her to visit his friends. There, in a cozy house decorated with Christmas garlands and amaryllis branches, she sat at the table and listened as she was surrounded by unfamiliar people, sweet and friendly, speaking another language. It was unusual for her, but somehow magical. At some point she thought, “Here it is, a new breath.” I was once a country bumpkin in Alexander’s eyes, and now I communicate freely in English, and I already understand a little French. People here treat me with respect and warmth. Michel turned out to be a considerate and gallant man, but without excessive pushiness. After the holiday, he drove her to the hotel, kissed her hand and said, “Je t'aime, Elizabeth, I admire you, Elizabeth.” She blushed, smiling, understanding that the sympathy for this man was growing stronger within her.

Soon her first six-month contract abroad came to an end. The company offered to extend it for another 3 months, and Elizabeth agreed, feeling that she wasn’t in a hurry to return. At home, she no longer had a family or serious commitments. There was, of course, her hometown and friends, but work and new opportunities seemed more important to her.

One evening she was talking to Ludmila via video link. Ludmila really wanted to see her in person, even though it was through a screen. Liza, how you’ve changed, a real European, Ludmila smiled. You speak foreign languages like a native. Not really, but I’m trying, Elizabeth replied modestly. My English is pretty good, but I’m only learning French. I see you’re very busy there. When are you coming home? I don’t know yet, she honestly replied. Maybe in a couple of months. It all depends on the contracts. Ludmila pursed her lips. Okay, it’s a shame, we miss you. But if you’re doing well there, then that’s how it should be.

A short pause, after which Ludmila asked, “Do you have anyone?” “Well, you see, there’s something like a relationship,” Elizabeth slowly said. “But for now we’re just communicating, I like one person, he’s French. But I’m not sure if anything serious will come of it.” But that’s wonderful anyway. I’m happy for you, daughter. You deserve happiness. The word “daughter” resonated in her ears, but at the same time warmed her heart. It’s amazing that her former mother-in-law continues to consider her close. But that was the case, and Elizabeth sincerely thanked fate for it.

At the end of this call, Elizabeth pondered how much everything had changed in a year and a half. Who would have thought that from an unhappy wife, publicly humiliated, she would turn into a successful specialist and begin, albeit slowly, to build a new personal happiness.

Alexander, meanwhile, was still doing business with Sergey. They had new partners. Turnover began to grow. They could already afford to rent a more spacious office. Gradually, the working atmosphere in the firm was reviving, not as luxurious as before, but healthier. “Who would have thought that you and I would work together so well,” Sergey once said when they were signing a new contract in the evening. “And remember, we used to argue even over trifles?” “Yes, times change,” Alexander replied, putting down his pen. “Thank you, brother, for offering your help back then.” Sergey patted him on the shoulder. We’re family. Alexander chuckled and filled two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Sergey. Let’s drink to our partnership and to the fact that life gives a second chance. They clinked glasses, but Alexander’s mind conjured up the image of Elizabeth, her confident gaze at that consultation, how clearly and calmly she laid everything out. He already understood for sure that he had lost her irretrievably. And the culprit was not only the scandalous episode, but the whole chain of his arrogant actions. He still had one chance: to try to talk to her frankly, but she was far away in Europe, and most likely, she was doing well. “Maybe it’s not worth stirring up the past?” he decided and this time refused the idea of writing to her on social media.

Spring passed, and summer arrived. Elizabeth flew back to her hometown for a few weeks to visit friends and settle some matters at the office of her international company. In parallel, she introduced Michel to her colleagues. For the first time in a long time, he came with her. He had the opportunity to work on projects remotely, and he decided it would be good to see her homeland. They stayed at a hotel in the city center, and Michel looked around the city with curiosity, trying the local cuisine. Naturally, Svetlana was delighted. Oh, Liza, he’s so gallant, your Frenchman. Look, he even brought me a bouquet just because I’m your friend. He’s like that, he loves to please people, Elizabeth smiled. I myself still can’t believe that I have the opportunity to be with such a person in my life. He speaks English quite well, so we understand each other, Svetlana noted. But the main thing is that you understand each other on a heart level, to which Elizabeth laughed. It sounds beautiful, Svet. Don’t rush to marry us off, we’re just learning to be together. Nevertheless, it looked like they were starting a serious relationship. Michel was ready to stay in her city longer if she asked, and she, in turn, sometimes suggested living in France. This opened up a lot of possibilities.

Learning that Elizabeth had arrived, Ludmila invited her to her dacha to relax and eat shashlik. Elizabeth agreed and even asked, “Can I bring Michel? He would be glad to meet you.” “Of course,” Ludmila immediately replied.

And so the day came. They arrived at the dacha by car with Michel. Ludmila stood at the gate, greeting the guests with a smile. Sergey and Alyona were already in the house, and Gennady Petrovich was grilling meat in the yard. Michel greeted everyone with pleasure in English, diligently learning a couple of phrases in Russian. Alyona joyfully tried to remember her school French. She managed something funny. Everyone laughed and became friends. Elizabeth looked around the dacha with interest, where she once helped Ludmila plant flowers. Everything was as in the good old days, except that now she was a guest here and Alexander was not there. They started talking, and will Sasha come? Elizabeth inquired casually. I don’t know, Ludmila replied. I invited him, but he said he wasn’t sure if he’d make it.

In the end, Alexander still arrived closer to evening, when everyone was already sitting at the table under a tree eating shashlik. He entered the yard, saw how they were laughing together, and a foreign man sitting next to them. Something constricted in his chest. He understood: there she is. Life goes on. And Liza now, apparently, has a new man. Hello. He greeted them with a general bow. Elizabeth nodded, calmly said, “Hello, Alexander.” Then she turned to Michel and introduced him in English: “This is Alexander, my…” eh, old acquaintance. Well, technically, ex-husband, but she decided to simplify it. Pleased to meet you. Michel said, extending his hand. I am Michel. Alexander, the latter replied, shaking his hand. There was a lot in that short handshake. Alexander looked at Michel, fit with tanned skin and dark hair, meticulously dressed, polite, clearly calm and self-confident. Alexander felt a slight pang of jealousy. How could this be? She’s now with this foreigner? But then he reminded himself that he had made the choice himself once. He sat down next to Sergey, raised his glass, trying to look carefree. However, every time Michel and Elizabeth talked, laughed, exchanged tender glances, Alexander felt a tingling in his chest. Involuntarily, he compared: Karina was beautiful, but she lacked the intelligent warmth that emanated from Elizabeth.

Ludmila tried to involve her son in the general conversation. She asked how things were going at work, how he felt, if he was managing everything. Alexander answered briefly, realizing that his gaze periodically drifted towards Elizabeth and Michel. And they, it seemed, were enjoying the summer, the conversation, the treats, and calmly smiled at everyone present.

Towards the end of the evening, Alexander decided to talk to Michel directly. He was sitting alone by the currant bushes, looking at the garden, while the others were clearing the dishes. Alexander approached and asked, “How do you like it here?” “Very nice,” Michel smiled. I like the place. Very beautiful nature. Your mother is very kind. She is… Alexander agreed, trying to speak without an accent. So you and Eliza are happy together. Michel smiled understandingly. Yes, I respect her a lot. She is an amazing woman. You know, I know… Alexander whispered. Take good care of her. I will, Michel nodded. Slightly frowning, he sensed some tension under the text, but decided not to delve deeper. At that moment, Elizabeth came up and called them both to the table. Alexander remained standing in place, letting Michel go, only nodding. I am coming. He felt his heart beating unevenly. “So that’s how it is. She’s moving forward, and I’m left somewhere behind,” a thought flashed through his mind.

The evening ended quite peacefully, without quarrels. Elizabeth and Michel said goodbye to everyone, promising Ludmila that they would visit again sometime. Alexander watched them leave, as they got into the car. Michel opened the door for her, she got in and smiled at him. Then the car drove away, leaving a small trail of dust. Well, what are you standing there for? Sergey approached. Did you want to say something to Liza? No, it’s not necessary anymore, he replied quietly. I’ll go too, probably, Sasha, don’t worry, Sergey touched his shoulder. Everything will still be good for you. Alexander didn’t answer. He understood that this wasn’t just some fleeting resentment. It was the understanding that the past was gone forever, and a second chance, most likely, would never come.

A few more months passed. Elizabeth finally made up her mind. After finishing her work in her hometown, she returned to Europe, but this time with Michel. They decided to live a little in France, then in Italy, where she had business projects. She increasingly felt that she was calm and happy with this man. Of course, they weren’t rushing into marriage or buying a house together, but they were moving towards it steadily, by mutual agreement.

Alexander, in turn, expanded his business in a new configuration. Sergey became a full partner. They strengthened the team. Profits were growing, and although Alexander didn’t experience the excitement and euphoria of the past, he felt that this business was important to him and that this was a more mature stage. He no longer tried to appear cool in front of anyone, he became calmer. Sometimes he went on business trips alone, sometimes he met different women, but quickly realized that serious relationships didn’t work out. Once he even wondered, “What if I’m just not ready to build a family? Maybe I’m not one of those who can live with someone in harmony?” Be that as it may, in his family with his parents, brother, his wife, and nephews, he remained the beloved elder son, brother, and uncle. Ludmila no longer made abrupt attempts to set him up with someone, realizing that it only irritated him. Sometimes she lamented, “When will you, Sasha, bring a bride?” But without pressure. And in his soul, a strange calmness settled. Yes, he had lost a lot, but maybe that’s exactly how it was predetermined. He understood that blaming someone for his own actions was pointless. Life puts everything in its place.

Time went by. Elizabeth and Michel managed to live in three European countries, and then decided to settle in France, in the city of Leon, where their firms opened branches. They rented a wonderful apartment with a view.