З життя
Коханий, можеш мене підвезти? – Женя сподівалася уникнути виснажливої поїздки додому після важкого робочого дня.
Дорогий, забереш мене з роботи? – Оксана зателефонувала чоловікові в надії, що після напруженого робочого дня їй не доведеться витрачати сорок хвилин на маршрутку.
– Я зайнятий, – стисло відповів Назар. У фоновому режимі чітко чувся телевізор, а це означало, що Назар удома.
Жінці було гірко до сліз. Шлюб був на межі краху, хоча ще пів року тому чоловік був готовий носити її на руках. Що ж змінилося за цей короткий час? Оксана не розуміла.
Вона дотримується своєї форми, проводячи значний час у спортзалі. Чудово готує – не дарма працює в популярному ресторані. Ніколи не просила грошей, не влаштовувала істерик, була готова виконати будь-яке прохання чоловіка…
– Ти йому скоро набриднеш, – хитала головою мама, вислуховуючи скарги Оксани. – Не можна у всьому догоджати чоловікові.
– Я просто його люблю, – безпорадно усміхалася дівчина у відповідь. – І він мене любить…
*****
– Все-таки я йому набридла, – кусала губи Оксана, переглядаючи історію браузера. Виявилося, що Назар все своє вільне час проводив на сайтах знайомств, спілкуючись відразу з кількома дівчатами. – Чому не можна було спокійно зі мною поговорити? Я б зрозуміла і відпустила. Навіщо мучитися, живучи з нелюбою жінкою, і мучити її своєю поведінкою?
Отже, розлучення. Що ж, вона сильна, вона переживе. Але просто так вона його не відпустить. Маленьку помсту він заслужив…
Того ж вечора Оксана зареєструвалася на тому ж сайті, що й чоловік, знайшла його і написала. Фото дівчина взяла з інтернету, трохи відредагувала і була впевнена, що Назар клюне. І він клюнув.
Зав’язалася бурхлива переписка. Чоловік у своїх повідомленнях розповідав, що не одружений, готовий до серйозних стосунків і дітей. Усіляко вихваляв свій чудовий характер, чим до сліз розсмішив дівчину. Вона ж прекрасно знає, як складно під нього підлаштуватися.
– Давай зустрінемося, – написала Оксана, а сама завмерла в очікуванні відповіді.
– Я тільки за, – повідомлення надійшло за кілька секунд. – Але в мене вдома тимчасово живе сестра, готується до вступних іспитів. Тож давай на нейтральній території, а вечір продовжимо в готелі.
– Серйозно? – вирвалося в Оксани після прочитання. – Чому ти так впевнений, що дівчина одразу погодиться йти з тобою в готель? Будь-яка нормальна людина образиться на таку пропозицію! Хоча, це мені на руку.
– То давай зустрінемося у мене вдома? Я живу в котеджі за містом, одна. Нам ніхто не завадить… – Але думала, чи погодиться він.
– Чудова ідея! – Назар явно зрадів. Напевно тому, що не доведеться витрачати зайві гроші. – Напиши адресу і час. Я примчуся на крилах кохання.
– Вулиця *** 25, о десятій вечора. Підходить?
– Звісно! Чекай на мене.
О дев’ятій годині чоловік прикинувся, що його терміново викликали на роботу. Не міг знайти ключі від машини і нехотячи спитав дружину, чи не бачила вона зв’язку.
– На тумбочці лежала, – Оксана дивилася на чоловіка чесними очима, а сама в цей час стискала ключі в кишені. – Може, кіт утащив?
А дівчина і не думала його чекати. Навіщо? Вона провела цей час з користю – збираючи свої речі. На щастя, у неї була власна квартира, що дісталася їй від бабусі. Єдине, що вона залишила після себе – це заява на розлучення, що лежала на самому видному місці.
А Назар прибув додому тільки вранці, божевільно злий. Мало того, що дорога в один бік зайняла більше години, так ще й Анжели з сайту там не було.
Адреса була реальною, будинок теж був. Але жила в ньому далеко не та дівчина модельної зовнішності, що була на знімках. Двері йому відчинила жінка рази в три більша за нього самого. З одягу на ній був лише напівпрозорий халат, і чоловік віддав би всі свої гроші, тільки щоб забути побачену картину.
Та й взагалі, він ледве відбився від цієї навіженої! Знову довелося викликати таксі, щоб лише поїхати з цього місця. Машину довелося чекати дуже довго, Назар навіть встиг змерзнути у своєму піджачку. А ще й водій був якийсь дивний, і спочатку завіз його чорт знає куди… Загалом, веселенька вийшла ніч.
І лише зайшовши в квартиру і побачивши заяву на столі, він зрозумів, хто стояв за всім цим розвагою. Адже поруч на столі, губною помадою було написано: Ця солодка помста…
You’re Robbing My Son Blind—He Can’t Even Afford a Light Bulb! On Sunday morning, I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket while my husband drove over to his mother’s to “change some light bulbs.” But of course, the real reason for summoning her darling boy was something else entirely: “Son, have you forgotten it’s Igor’s birthday today?” My husband’s the generous type—his salary barely lasts a week. Thankfully, he still gives me cash for the bills and groceries, but the rest? He blows it all on new video games and whatever gadgets go with them. I don’t mind; better my man enjoys his hobbies than squanders his time (and money) in pubs or nightclubs. Besides, I once read that the first forty years of childhood are the hardest for any man. I’m not telling you this for sympathy, just so you understand why my husband always has empty pockets. I have no such problem—even manage to save. I often lend him money in emergencies, but when it’s for his mum, niece, or sister, I always say no. Naturally, I remembered Igor’s birthday. Last week, I bought his present myself. Before my husband set off, I handed it over and settled down to watch a film. I didn’t go—the mutual animosity between me and my in-laws made sure of that. They think I don’t love him, accuse me of being mean because I refuse to fund their expenses or mind my sister-in-law’s kids. Once, I watched them for an hour, but they picked them up half a day late, making me miss work—when I dared complain, his mum and sister called me shameless and rude. After that, any requests to babysit were met with a firm “no.” Didn’t bother me if my husband watched the kids—he enjoys their company. Not long after my husband left, he returned—with the whole family in tow, nieces and all. His mum barged in, coat still on, and declared: “We’ve decided that, for Igor’s birthday, he’ll get the tablet he wanted—two grand it cost. You owe me a thousand pounds for your share. Pay up.” I might have bought the lad a tablet—but nothing that expensive. Obviously, I refused to hand over any cash. That’s when my husband started guilt-tripping me for being stingy. I turned on the laptop and called Igor over. In five minutes, we picked and ordered a gadget he really wanted—job done. Thrilled, Igor dashed off to his mum, who’d been sulking in the hallway. My sister-in-law always had sticky fingers—nothing in our house was safe. My mother-in-law, meanwhile, ignored my thoughtful gesture and exploded with indignation: “No one asked for your help. You were meant to give money! You’re with my son, and he’s always skint, can’t even buy a lightbulb. Hand me a thousand pounds now—you know full well that money belongs to my boy!” She reached for my handbag on the nightstand. I glared at my husband and hissed, “You’ve got three minutes to get them out of here.” In less than three minutes, he’d grabbed his mother and chucked her and the lot of them out the door. So, yes, I’d rather my husband waste his wages on games than have his mother snatch every penny. At least he spends it on things that make him happy, not on those freeloaders. Sometimes, I genuinely think I’d have been better off marrying an orphan!
Youre robbing my son, he cant even afford a lightbulb. One Sunday morning, I was curled up under a blanket...
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