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Ось і сукня! Ти скажеш, що це я її туди викинула?

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– А ось і сукня! Скажеш, що я її туди кинула? – відчинивши сміттєве відро, Іванка змінилася в обличчі.

Іванка майже щодня задавала собі одне й те саме питання, на яке ніяк не могла знайти відповідь: що вона знайшла у Максима?

На вигляд він був невиразним, такого “принца” навіть подругам було соромно показувати, тому для них дівчина досі жила одна.

Про те, що вона живе з чоловіком, знала лише рідна сестра, яка тримала це в секреті.

Зорі з неба чоловік теж не хапав: працював слюсарем на металургійному комбінаті.

Іноді Іванка, сидячи вдома перед телевізором, ловила себе на думці, що настав час закінчувати стосунки з Максимом.

Проте щойно вона збиралася це зробити, чоловік приносив букет квітів або якийсь інший подарунок, і тоді дівчина відкладала розставання на невизначений термін.

До знайомства з Іванкою Максим уже був одруженим. Його шлюб тривав лише два місяці, проте наслідком стала вагітність, у ході якої у чоловіка народилася дочка.

На момент знайомства з Іванкою дівчинці було дванадцять років. До недавнього часу Іванка жодного разу не бачила дочку Максима та й не прагнула з нею знайомитися.

Така нагода випала їй напередодні дня народження, який вона планувала відзначити в колі подруг.

– Іванко, – винувато завагався чоловік, – колишня дружина відлітає у справах, просить, щоб я взяв дочку до себе…

– Надовго? – скривилася Іванка, яка найменше хотіла отримати на день народження такий подарунок.

– На місяць…

– Чому так довго? – насупилася дівчина. – Сподіваюсь, вона розуміє, що її дочку потрібно годувати на якісь гроші?

– Якщо ти про гроші, то вона нічого не переказувала, – безсило розвів руками Максим.

– Наскільки я пам’ятаю, ти платиш їй аліменти. Тобто, дівчинка буде у нас цілий місяць, а мати буде насолоджуватися життям на аліменти?

– Там нема з чого особливо насолоджуватися, ти ж знаєш мою зарплату, – вимушено усміхнувся чоловік.

– Як ти взагалі уявляєш її проживання тут? – розпалювалася Іванка, яка все більше розуміла, що не хоче, щоб чужа дитина стільки часу перебувала разом з ними. – Її потрібно до школи возити, дивитися за нею. Навіщо ти береш на себе такі обов’язки?

– Я, наче, батько Дарини, – здивовано відповів Максим. – З твоєї точки зору, я мав відмовитися від неї?

– Ти маєш враховувати, що живеш не один, це раз. Два, це моя квартира, і спочатку потрібно було запитати в мене, перш ніж погоджуватися. Три, у мене день народження, і я не хочу, щоб його щось затьмарювало! – з важливим виглядом висловилася дівчина.

– Не думаю, що моя дочка стане перешкодою, – розгублено сказав чоловік, відчувши свою провину.

– А я впевнена, що все піде не за планом, – схрестила руки на грудях Іванка.

Однак Максим запевнив дівчину, що їй не слід налаштовувати себе песимістично.

Наступного дня в квартиру дівчини приїхала пухлощока дівчинка з яскравим макіяжем, якій на вигляд можна було дати не менше шістнадцяти років.

Вона з-під лоба глянула на Іванку і, не привітавшись, звернулася до батька.

– Де буде моя кімната?

– Спати доведеться на кухні, – натягнуто усміхнувся Максим.

Дівчинка у відповідь закотила очі й, зірвавшись з місця, побігла в ванну плакати.

– Що це було? – Іванка роздратовано глянула на чоловіка. – Нахабна й невихована дитина. Добре, що я вирішила відзначати свій день народження в кафе. До речі, ти зі мною не їдеш.

– Чому? – здивувався Максим. – Я думав, що ти нарешті познайомиш мене зі своїми подругами. Все-таки ми живемо разом більше півроку…

– Ти сидітимеш поруч з дитиною, – відразу виправдалася Іванка, рада тому, що їй не доведеться представляти кавалера подругам, у яких женихи і чоловіки були спортивні та підтягнуті.

– Зрозуміло, – з образою пробасив чоловік і більше ні слова не сказав дівчині.

Наступного дня Іванка почала ранок з турбот і клопоту щодо свого дня народження.

Зранку вона попрасувала своє коктейльне плаття і повісила його на вішалку в очікуванні вечора.

Максим як і раніше мовчав і навіть не привітав Іванку з днем народження.

Вирішивши не псувати собі настрій, дівчина просто вдавала, що не помічає, що він ображений.

Після роботи вона заїхала додому перевдягнутися і з жахом виявила, що її плаття зникло.

– Де моє плаття? – розпашіла Іванка влетіла на кухню, де на розкладачці безтурботно лежала Дарина.

Вона демонстративно проігнорувала дівчину і, взявши телефон, почала безцільно в ньому колупатися.

– Ти мене чуєш? – Іванка підскочила до дівчинки і вирвала з її рук смартфон.

– Віддай! – заверещала Дарина, а на кухню влетів Максим.

– Що сталося? – чоловік округлив очі. – Поверни телефон на місце!

– Де моє плаття? – стискала зуби Іванка.

– Я нічого не брала, – дівчинка презирливо примружила очі. – Вона несе нісенітницю. Просто я їй не подобаюся!

– Поверни телефон, ти ж чула, що вона сказала? – суворо вимовив Максим.

– Звичайно, вона визнає! – плеснула руками Іванка і кинула телефон на підлогу.

Від удару дисплей тріснув, і Дарина залилась у тривалому риданні. Дівчина з гордим виглядом вийшла в кімнату.

Їй належало в короткий термін знайти відповідний наряд для святкування в кафе.

Схопивши перше, що здалося Іванці гідним, вона переодяглася й поїхала святкувати свій день народження.

Саме там дівчина змогла відволіктися і прийняти рішення розійтися з Максимом.

Іванка повернулася в квартиру ближче до ранку. Чоловік, почувши, що вона прийшла, встав з ліжка.

– Час бачила?

– Ти вирішив зобразити строгого чоловіка? На жаль, ти запізнився. Я прийняла рішення розійтися, – коротко сказала Іванка. – Вранці вам треба з’їхати.

– Тобто, ти виставляєш мене ще й винним після всього? – розсміялася дівчина.

– Ти розбила Дарині телефон…

– Вона вкрала моє плаття! – прошипіла крізь зуби Іванка.

– Моя дочка не брала його! – очі Максима налилися кров’ю. – Я готовий за це поручитися!

Дівчина скривила обличчя й махнула рукою, не бажаючи слухати виправдання чоловіка.

Бажаючи заспокоїти себе, Іванка залізла в шафу й витягла звідти недопиту пляшку вина.

Пригубивши вміст, вона несподівано виплюнула на підлогу й скривила фізіономію.

– Що це? Шампунь? Скажеш, що я його теж туди налила? – їдко засміялася Іванка й, відчинивши сміттєве відро, змінилася в обличчі. – А ось і сукня! Скажеш, що я її туди кинула?

– Знайшла привід мене кинути! Я ж знаю, що ти давно вже хотіла це зробити! – випалив Максим. – Якби не я, ти б давно це зробила!

Дівчина здивовано підняла брови. Вона прекрасно пам’ятала всі ці моменти.

– Я встановив у кімнаті прослуховувальний пристрій. Я чув усі твої розмови з сестрою про мене, і все знаю! – з важливим виглядом повідомив Максим.

– Оце новини! А я все думала й гадала, як ти так швидко дізнавався про те, що я хочу розійтися! – шокована Іванка схопилася за голову, згадавши, як часто на різні теми говорила з сестрою, подругою і батьками. – Давай прощатися!

Вмовляти цього разу дівчину не руйнувати їх стосунки чоловік не став. Він і так зрозумів, що настав логічний кінець їхньому роману.

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The third was brought home after he missed her birthday because he stayed out with his mates (or simply forgot…) “Andrew, I don’t need expensive presents,” she tried to keep her voice gentle, choosing every word. “But sometimes, I’d just like to know you’re thinking of me. Even a card…” His face twisted instantly. “Money, it’s always about money with you, isn’t it? Presents, presents. Does love mean anything to you? All I’ve been through, and you complain?” “I didn’t mean—” “You don’t deserve it.” Andrew spat the words at her like mud. “After everything I’ve done for you, you still find something to whinge about.” Ksenia fell silent. She always did—it was just easier that way. Easier to live, easier to breathe, easier to pretend everything was fine. Strangely, Andrew always managed to find money for nights out with friends. Pubs, watching the football, café meetups every Thursday. He’d come home tipsy and cheerful, reeking of sweat and cigarettes, falling onto the bed without noticing Ksenia was still awake. She told herself: this is just how things are. Love means sacrifice. Love means patience. He’ll change. Of course he’ll change. I just have to wait a bit longer, love him a bit harder, give him all the support he needs—he’s been through so much… …Any talk of a wedding was like walking through a minefield. “We’re happy as we are—why do we need a piece of paper?” Andrew would shrug off the subject as if batting away a fly. “After what happened with Marina, I need time.” “Three years, Andrew. Three years is a long time.” “You’re putting pressure on me! It’s always the same with you.” He’d storm out of the room and end the conversation. Ksenia really wanted children. Her own, flesh and blood. She was twenty-eight, and her biological clock seemed to tick louder every month. But Andrew wasn’t up for being a father again—he already had a son, and, in his mind, that was plenty. …That Saturday she only asked for one day. Just one single day. “The girls have invited me round. We haven’t seen each other in ages. I’ll be back by evening.” Andrew looked at her as if she’d just announced plans to run off to another continent. “And Max?” “You’re his dad. You can spend the day with your son.” “So now you’re abandoning us? On a Saturday? When I was planning to have a break?” Ksenia blinked. Then blinked again. In three years she had never left them alone. Not once. She cooked, cleaned, helped with schoolwork, did the washing, ironing—all while holding down a full-time job. “I just want to see my friends. For a few hours… And he’s your son, Andrew. Surely you can spend one day with him without me?” “You should love my son as you love me!” Andrew suddenly roared. “You’re living in my flat, eating my food, and now you’re showing your true colours?!” His flat. His food. Ksenia was the one paying the rent. Ksenia bought the food from her wages. For three years she’d supported a man who shouted at her for wanting a day with her friends. She looked at Andrew—at his twisted face, the vein bulging on his forehead, clenched fists—and for the first time, truly saw him. Not the tragic victim of fate, not some lost soul in need of saving, but a grown man who was a master at exploiting someone else’s kindness. To him, Ksenia wasn’t a beloved partner or a future wife—just a financial backer and unpaid housekeeper. Nothing more. When Andrew left to drop Max off with Marina, Ksenia pulled out a travel bag. Her hands moved calmly, confidently—no shaking, no doubt. Passport. Phone. Charger. A couple of T-shirts. Jeans. The rest she could buy later. The rest didn’t matter. She didn’t bother leaving a note. What was the point of explaining things to someone who never really saw her anyway? The door closed quietly behind her. No drama. The phone calls started within the hour. First one, then another, then a deluge—an incessant ringing that made the phone vibrate in her hand. “Ksenia, where are you?! What’s going on?! I come home and you’re not here! How dare you? Where’s dinner? Am I supposed to go hungry? What’s all this nonsense?” She listened to his voice—angry, demanding, full of self-righteous outrage—and was amazed. Even now, when she’d left, Andrew only thought about himself. His inconvenience. Who would cook for him now? Not a single “sorry.” Not one “are you okay?” Just “how dare you.” Ksenia blocked his number. Then she found his profile in her chat app—blocked it. Social media—blocked. Every avenue he could use to reach her, she built a wall. Three years. Three years of living with a man who didn’t love her. Who used her kindness like it was disposable. Who convinced her that sacrificing herself was what love was all about. But love isn’t like that. Love doesn’t humiliate. Love doesn’t turn a living, breathing person into the hired help. Ksenia walked through the London evening—and, for the first time in ages, breathing came easy. She vowed to herself: never again would she confuse love with self-sacrifice. Never again would she rescue those who only trade on pity. Always, from now on, she would choose herself. Only herself.

I honestly thought after my divorce Id never trust anyone again, Alex was turning his empty espresso cup in his...