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Утро с размолвкой: настроение на нуле, завязывая шнурки.

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Вот переработанный вариант с учетом русской культурной специфики:

Борис завязывал шнурки в прихожей, настроение было скверное — с утра поссорился с женой. Татьяна стояла, опершись о дверной косяк, руки скрещены на груди, глаза красные от слёз, лицо осунулось, морщины проступили резче. А ведь ей всего тридцать восемь — ещё не старуха.

Чувствуя её взгляд, он опустился на пуфик, упёрся локтями в колени, крупные руки безвольно свисли. Уставился в стену пустым взглядом — сам измотан, выжат как лимон.
— Таня, ну сколько можно? — хрипло выдавил он. — Твои больницы, таблетки в холодильнике, ванной, на тумбочке… Не получается у нас! Зачем мучаешь и себя, и меня?
— Боря, ну в последний раз… Ты думаешь, мне легко? Каждый раз надеяться, слышать стук сердца, а потом… чистка, и эти слова: «Он замёр, не прижился…»

— Давай оставим эту затею! Тысячи пар живут без детей и не помирают.
— Умоляю! — Татьяна сползла по косяку, готовая упасть на колени.
Борис подхватил её, крепко прижал к себе. Оба не старики ещё — ему сорок шесть, выглядит отлично: подтянут, густые волосы с проседью, гладко выбритое лицо с широким подбородком.
— Ладно, ладно… Заеду сегодня в клинику, сдам анализ, — гладил он её по спине, чувствуя, как она дрожит. — Успокойся, тебе нельзя нервничать. Может, подождём полгода? — Он отстранился, взглянул на её заплаканное лицо.

— Нет, врач сказал — сейчас.
— Они всегда так говорят! — резко оттолкнул её Борис, накинул кожаную сумку через плечо. — Одно и то же! А результат — нулевой.
— Боря! — крикнула ему вдогонку Татьяна, но он уже нажимал кнопку лифта.
— Заеду, обещаю.

Татьяна успокоилась, выпила таблетки — гормоны, витамины, всё, что прописали врачи. Собралась на работу, после обеда — в клинику. Десятое ЭКО… Она видела женщин в консультации, которые делали и двадцать попыток — и в сорок восемь вынашивали. А ей всего тридцать восемь.

Муж сдержал слово, заехал в клинику, а вечером — снова в командировку. Татьяна шутила перед подругами и случайными знакомыми в больнице: «Муж приезжает только „материал“ оставить, а потом — снова в самолёт». Так они жили уже лет десять. Он всего добился сам, а она всегда была его тылом — верила в него, даже когда он третий раз прогорал, и они сидели в долгах на съёмной квартире. Одалживала у друзей, у матери, терпела унизительные слова о «бестолковом Борисе», но просила — и брала.

Потом рассчитались со всеми, когда у него пошло в гору. Теперь у них большая квартира в центре Москвы, строят дом в Подмосковье, в тихом месте, но недалеко от города. Две хорошие машины, отпуск за границей дважды в год. Но она не стала матерью… Всё здоровье, все силы отдала ему. А теперь хотела только одного — ребёнка.

Татьяна работала администратором в салоне красоты — без амбиций, жила семьёй. Клиентки её любили, знали годами.

Очередная процедура позади — осталось ждать. Борис звонил из командировки, спрашивал, как она.
— Тань, может, махнём на выходных в Сочи? — бодро предложил он вечером.
— В ноябре? Что там делать?
— Есть отличные отели с подогреваемыми бассейнами. Развеешься… Сделка прошла — надо отметить.
— Но у меня работа.
— Да брось ты её! Сколько раз говорил — хватит.
— Мне нравится. Сейчас Лида на больничном, не могу надолго.
— На два дня! Завтра прилетаю — и в дорогу. В понедельник к обеду вернёшься.

Отдохнули чудесно. Борис взахлёб рассказывал, как обвёл вокруг пальца конкурентов, блестяще провёл переговоры.
— Следующие три месяца — никуда не полечу, — обнял он жену в уютном номере люкс.
— Я так счастлива… — прижалась к нему Татьяна. — Сколько мы прошли.
— Всё позади, — он гладил её по спине. — Всё будет хорошо… Как думаешь, в этот раз получится?
Борис пожал плечами. Миллион раз надеялись…

Вернулись обновлёнными. У неё — плановый визит в клинику, у него — дела. Через неделю он снова собрался в поездку.
— Прости, надо лететь.
Она молча собрала ему вещи, как он любил. В аэропорт его давно не провожала — он предпочитал ездить с водителем.

Задержался на три недели. Об очередной неудаче узнал по телефону. Слёзы, депрессия… Он даже обрадовался, что его нет дома — знал, что так и будет. Вернувшись, услышал: «Давай ещё раз… Не сейчас, но не останавливайся».
— Сколько у тебя было провалов на работе — но ты не сдавался!
— Таня… — Борис схватился за голову. — Как можно бизнес с ребёнком сравнивать? Ты вся измучена… Тебе скоро к психиатру бежать. Прими — детей у нас не будет.
— Когда я делала аборты, потому что «не время», ты меня не останавливал! А теперь сдаёшься?

— Ты преувеличиваешь.
— Пять раз! Потом — как бабка отшептала… А теперь вот.
— Я тебя не заставлял!
— Я верила в тебя… А ты — в нас нет.
— Нет «нас»! Есть ты и я! — крикнул он. — Мне больно смотреть, как ты страдаешь…

Разошлись. Борис ушёл, вернулся ночью, спал в гостиной. Несколько дней — ледяное молчание. Потом он заговорил. Собирал вещи в спальне, бормотал что-то про квартиру, дом…
— Квартиру оставлю тебе, машины — бери обе. А дом… — задумался, запихивая в чемодан рубашки. (Он даже не знал, где что лежит — обычно она собирала.) — Дом тебе оставлю, но ты справишься? Там отделка ещё на год, финансы…
— Боря… — Татьяна села на кровать. — Ты опять в командировку?
Он тоже сел, глядя в окно.
— Я ухожу.
— Надолго?
— Навсегда.

— Долгих командировок не бывает.
— Таня, это не работа… Был роман с сотрудницей. Она беременна.
— Молодая?
— Да.
— Короткий роман — и сразу получилось… — она поднялась.
— Я тоже хотел ребёнка… Но у нас не выходит.Зина закрыла глаза, глубоко вздохнула и впервые за долгие годы почувствовала, что её жизнь только начинается.

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