She just wanted to see who hed traded her for…
Parsheen marched straight into the kitchen, still in his coat, and slumped into a chair.
“Im in love with another woman. Shes pregnant. Im leaving you,” he said bluntly.
Vita turned off the tap and faced him, perfectly composed.
“Is it that girl who sells apples at the market stall? Tonya, I think?”
“You knew?” He looked up sharply.
“Darling, youre a terrible liar. Of course I knew. Tell me, are you leaving because you love her or just because of the baby?”
“Im sorry.” He hung his head.
*Ten years together, and none of it means anything to you? What about me?* Her eyes screamed it, but Vita stayed silent.
“Are you going to marry her?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“Then lets keep things normal at the department. I dont want gossip.”
“Fine.” He stood. “So Ill go?”
Vita turned back to the sink, turned the water on, and stared at the stream until he left.
He was quickpacked only the essentials. Maybe hed come back?
She shut off the tap, sat at the table in his spot, and dropped her head onto her folded arms. But she didnt cry.
***
She hadnt cried a month earlier either, when her friend casually mentioned seeing Parsheen with another woman.
“A student?” Vita had asked. “Theyre always falling for him. What do they even see in him?”
“No, a market girl. Tonya. From the village, lives in a shared flat on Lenin Street. Twenty-three,” her friend rattled off, like a detective delivering a case file.
“How do you even know all this?”
“Its a small town. My mate Lisa lives in that buildingremember her? Your Parsheens there all the time.”
“Ah. So *thats* where he sneaks off to instead of extra tutoring.”
Seeing was believing. The next day, Vita tailed him after his last lecture, lurking behind a pillar in the hall.
He walked briskly toward the market. She followed at a distance, careful not to stareshe had *some* dignity. She just wanted to see the girl whod stolen her husband.
He stopped near a fruit stall where a queue of three waited. The girlsleeveless vest over a hoodie, jeans, a thick plait swung over her shoulderweighed apples with practised ease. When she bent down, strands escaped, and shed puff them away. Round cheeks, dimples when she smiled. Simple, pretty. And those sharp, dark eyes kept flicking toward Parsheen. *Probably short-changing people. Maybe I should report her.* Vita smirked bitterly.
An old woman took forever picking apples, inspecting each like a gem before dropping it in Tonyas bag.
“Enough,” the woman finally declared.
“Take some plums tooperfect for jam,” Tonya offered.
The woman hesitated, prodded a few, then shook her head.
Tonya weighed the bageasily a kilobut quoted a laughably low price. The old woman snatched the bargain before she could change her mind.
*She pities the elderly!* Vita thought, half-impressed, half-suspicious. *Or is this all a show for Parsheen?*
Shed passed this stall daily, even eyed the plumsbut never *her*. And yet, Parsheen had.
Once the old woman left, he approached. Tonyas face lit up. *God, she worships him. Well, soon-to-be Dr. Parsheen does sound impressive.* She smoothed his coat, brushed invisible dust off his shoulders. The tender gesture stabbed Vita. Shed assumed an affairthis was love.
She couldnt see Parsheens face but knew his expression matched Tonyas. She walked away before they spotted her.
That night, alone, Vita finally cried.
***
Shed noticed him at university first. Quiet, serious, never at parties, barely spoke to anyonehandsome, if not for the permanent scowl. A mystery. Like something out of *Wuthering Heights*.
One lecture, she slid into the seat beside him.
“Bored?” she teased.
He looked at herand smiled. The scowl vanished. *Oh. He* is *handsome.* After that, they sat together often. Soon, he walked her home.
“What do you even see in him?” her best friend huffed.
“Better not tell you,” Vita winked. “Youd steal him.”
They took it slow. By graduation, they were inseparable. Married soon after. No parents at the weddinghis had died in a crash years earlier. That explained the brooding.
But in bed, he was gentle. Afterward, hed recite Auden, Eliot, Plath. He read *beautifully*. Vitas heart would stutter.
She wanted a baby desperately. But childhood hypothermia had left her infertile. Ten years together, no miracle. Parsheen swore theyd adopt when she was ready, but she longed for her *own*.
After uni, they both stayed on as lecturers. Lately, their marriage had settled into comfortable friendship. Always togetherhome, work. She cherished it. But Parsheen? He craved passion, fire. And, apparently, a child. So hed found a simple girl whod give him one. The sort people called “rosy-cheeked and wholesome.”
When Vita learned about the baby, jealousy bitnot over the affair, but the *child*. *Hell have a son or daughter. And Ill never know motherhood.*
Well. If she couldnt give him one, shed let someone else. No arguing with a baby. Maybe he *needed* simple. What use was a clever, barren wife? *Does he read her poetry too?*
At work, nothing changed. They walked home separately now, inventing excuses. No one pried.
Parsheen moved into Tonyas flat. Vita hoped hed come back. He didnt. She stopped looking toward the market.
Between lectures, he whispered excitedly: a daughter. Alla. Vita congratulated him through clenched teeth. He rushed off.
That evening, he returned, shaking. Tonya was dead. Stroke. Vita held him as he sobbed.
“The babys alive. What will you do?”
“Ill take her.”
“And work?”
“My aunt will help. Half-pay for now.”
But by spring, the aunt left”gardening season.” A nanny lasted a day before he caught her glued to her phone while Alla screamed.
He called Vita, desperate.
“You left me. Now you want help?”
“Please. I cant do this alone.”
Grudges aside, the baby was blameless. The second Vita held Alla, the resentment melted. Parsheen had named her after Alla PugachevaTonyas favourite singer. *Alla Parsheen. Not bad.*
At first, Vita just helpedcooking, laundry, babysitting. Then the flatmates complained: dead tenants room, illegal sublet.
“Pack up. You and Alla are moving in with me.”
They slept apart at first. Then Allas first “Mummy” nearly stopped Vitas heart.
One evening, she came home to giggles. Alla wobbled toward Parsheen, who scooped her up, both laughing. Vita froze. Shed *never* heard him laugh. He looked so happy she teared up.
“How long have you been there?” He grinned. “Look!” He set Alla downshe tottered to him.
He babbled about her first steps all night. That night, they were close again. He read poetry. Her heart fluttered.
“Did you read to her too?” she ventured.
He paused. “Once. She didnt get it.”
Alla grew, favouring Tonya more each day.
Once, passing the market, they saw a new vendorbrassy red hair, grubby nails, batting eyelashes at Parsheen.
“Lets go,” he muttered, disgusted.
That evening, washing up, he hugged Vita from behind.
“Thank you. Without you I adore you both.”
“Without you and Tonya, thered be no Alla.”
Shed forgiven. If she hadnt, no Alla. No husband. A lonelier life.
She pitied Tonya. Gone too soon. But shed left Alla. One day, theyd tell her about her birth mother. Or maybe not. Vita *was* her mother now. And loved her fiercely.
