З життя
Чому ти так накидаєшся на їжу? — голос чоловіка пролунав серед гостей.
Куди ти стільки їси? — грубий голос чоловіка пролунає серед запрошених гостей, — як свиня від’їлася…
Лідія нервово посміхнулася під жалісливими поглядами колег, хіхікнула і, як завжди, намагалася перевести все на жарт:
— Коханий, ти ж любиш мене будь-якою, а м’ясо таке смачне, — і продовжила їсти, хоча шматок вже в горло не йшов, але визнати перед всіма, що їй образливо до сліз, вона не могла.
Ця маска щасливої дружини так міцно прилипла до неї, що відрізнити, де справжні почуття, вже не вдавалося. З першого дня шлюбу їй довелося зробити вибір — терпіти всі коментарі чоловіка, перетворюючи їх на жарт, або залишити його. Відійти вона боялася, кому вона ще потрібна?
Задумалася — такі дрібниці можна і пробачити. Але з кожним роком цих дрібниць ставало все більше і більше, і тепер, що б вона не робила, в голові лунав голос чоловіка, коментуючи і критикуючи: готувати не вмієш; та хто так миє? руки з одного місця; подивись на себе — страховище!
З кожним словом вона все більше вірила, що товста, страшна, нікому не потрібна і нічого не вміє робити нормально. Навчилася посміхатися, коли він принижував її прилюдно, навчилася ковтати сльози і мовчати, коли він розповідав про свої походеньки.
Вона пробачала і вважала, що їй пощастило з чоловіком. Хто ще її прийме? Та й люди осудять, якщо піде.
Коли гості розійшлися, вона прибирала зі столу, втомлено складаючи посуд у мийку. Вечірка не вдалася. Чоловік напився і лежав на дивані, невнятно бурмочучи собі під ніс.
— Лідія! Лі-і-і-до! Іди сюди, моя корівонько! — язик у нього плутався.
Вона не відгукнулася. Хотілося піти з дому і бродити темними вулицями, тільки б не чути і не бачити цю п’яну фізіономію.
— Лізодія! Лідо! — не вгамовувався чоловік.
Вона увійшла в кімнату, витираючи руки рушником:
— Що?
Чоловік спробував піднятися, але зміг лише сповзти з дивану. Його обличчя покрилося червоними плямами, як кожен раз, коли він випивав, сорочка вилізла з штанів, пом’ялась, оголивши відвислий живіт, очі бігали, сфокусувати погляд не вдавалося.
— Іди до мене!
— Лягай спати, вже пізно, — відповіла Лідія, зморщившись від запаху перегару. Підійшла до нього, спробувала підняти на ноги, але він схопив її і повалив поруч на підлогу. Вона спробувала його відштовхнути, але він вчепився ведмежою хваткою і поліз цілувати шию і рот, дихаючи перегаром.
Й тут у неї в голові щось клацнуло. Вона повернула голову, ухиляючись від слинких поцілунків, відштовхнула його з усієї сили й встала. Він кулем валився на спину, незграбно розкидаючи руки і дивлячись на неї з нерозумінням.
І вона побачила: ось він, людина, що все свідоме життя критикує кожен її крок.
Ось він, п’яний, товстий, нездатний навіть яєчню приготувати самостійно, купити продукти без її керівництва, знайти свою сорочку без її вказівок, лежить мерзою масою і вважає, що вона його не достойна. Вважає себе благодійником, упевнений, що все життя крутиться тільки навколо нього.
А вона роками цю впевненість підтримує, потурає, приймає всі образи і підтримує для всіх ілюзію, що він у домі головний. Він господар і все вирішує.
І тільки зараз вона зрозуміла — ця людина їй не потрібна. Вона більше не хоче так жити, не хоче бачити його щоранку, не хоче більше слухати гидоти, ловити жалісливі погляди від сторонніх, коли він кричить на неї. Досить, вона втомилася.
— Лідія! Ти чого? А? Лідо? — від її погляду він трохи протверезився.
— Я йду від тебе, — просто сказала вона і пішла в спальню збирати речі. Як стало легко всередині! Вона ніби скинула величезний камінь, який роками носила на собі.
— Що? Куди? Лідія! Куди ти підеш?
Куди пішла, а ну вернися!
Але вона вже не слухала.
Розкрила стару валізу і неквапливо стала складати речі…
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