The first few days after he left felt like a really strange dream. The silence in the apartment was so heavy it was almost like physical pain.
It wasn’t the calm, cozy kind of quiet. It was more like a taut string, vibrating with tension. Anna found herself constantly listening for every little noise in the hallway, every creak of the elevator, and every turn of a key in the neighboring locks.
At the table, she mechanically fixed meals for two and poured two cups of coffee every morning. Every time she realized what she was doing, her hands would tremble.
“You’re nobody without me”—those words haunted her everywhere. They were in the sound of the water, in the hum of the appliances, and in the steady ticking of the clock.
What hurt the most was that there was a bit of truth to them. Who was she, really? At business meetings, she was introduced as the wife of a successful man. T
he neighbors described her as the owner of a perfect home. But who was she without those labels?
Her bank balance was shrinking fast, and it was scary. Six months ago, Igor had “invested” their joint savings in his business.
All that was left was her personal account, and it was a pretty small amount, enough to last maybe two or three months at most. After that, she’d have to ask to borrow money.
Her resume looked really bad. She had an education, but her work experience was hardly there and way out – of – date. Skills? What skills? “Professional shirt ironing,” “stain removal expert,” “has access to her husband’s contacts”?
The phone stayed silent. Not only did potential employers ignore her calls, but even her friends did. It turned out that most of the people they knew together were actually his friends.
