З життя
Ти повернулася?
Вона повернулася?
Марина стояла перед дверима.
Рука тремтіла. Ключі в сумці – ось вони, всього за кілька сантиметрів від пальців. Але чому серце так шалено б’ється?
Вона не була тут майже рік.
Глибокий вдих. Поштовх.
Двері піддалися, і Марина переступила поріг.
Нічого не змінилося. Ні шпалери, ні диван, ні навіть пил на книжковій полиці. Все здавалося таким самим, як і раніше. Але тепер це не був її дім.
Олексій не прийшов за нею тоді.
Раніше приходив. Раніше сумував. Шукав очима, тягнувся руками, повторював: «Як же я скучив».
Але востаннє – ні.
Він не дзвонив, не писав, не шукав зустрічей.
Вона бачила його лише краєм ока, коли він приходив за Софійкою. Мовчки. Без слів, без емоцій. Просто брав доньку за руку і йшов.
І ось вже інший чоловік наполегливо доглядає за нею, визнається в любові, пропонує стати його дружиною.
Але Марина не спить. Не може.
Щось не так.
Вона підійшла до шафи, відкрила дверцята.
Документи лежали на місці. Вона сама акуратно склала їх тут перед відходом.
І раптом – рух у кімнаті.
Марина різко обернулася.
На дивані… він.
Олексій.
Він спав глибоко, втомлений, з небритим обличчям і темними колами під очима.
Перше бажання було піти.
Але ноги, ніби прикипіли до підлоги.
Вона дивилася на нього, і щось усередині переверталося.
Коли він став таким? Втомленим, чужим, похмурим?
Де той Олексій, в якого вона колись закохалася?
Де його усмішка – світла, хлопчача, сяюча, як сонце?
Марина сіла поруч.
Її пальці мимоволі торкнулися фотографії, яка лежала під його рукою.
Весільний альбом.
Фотографії з шелестом посипалися на підлогу.
Олексій відкрив очі.
Кілька секунд він просто дивився на неї, не моргаючи.
А потім раптом прошепотів:
— Маринко… ти повернулася?
І вона зрозуміла, що ще півгодини тому могла піти.
Безповоротно.
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