Stepan had never seen himself as the typical family man. His friends admired him for his adventurous spirit and his ability to live life on his own terms, regardless of responsibilities. He took pride in «beating the system» — his way of describing his double life.

When the opportunity came for a «business trip,» he did not hesitate. Instead of attending boring meetings, he whisked away to a paradise resort with Lara — young, lively, and endlessly flirtatious.

On vacation, Stepan let go of all inhibitions. Lara was energetic, affectionate, vibrant. Every moment with her fed his ego, making him feel young, desired, and powerful. His wife Svetlana, their little boy, the mortgage, and daily routines faded from his mind.

Upon returning to the city, Stepan decided to make a quick stop at the usual hangout behind the garages where his friends gathered. Beer in hand, a triumphant grin on his face, he could hardly wait to share the details of his escapade.

His friends listened wide-eyed as he told tales of passionate nights, candlelit dinners by the beach, and stolen kisses under the stars. In that moment, he was their hero.

— What if Svetlana finds out? — one friend teased.

— Where would she go? — Stepan scoffed. — No one else would want her. She will take me back, like always.

The group burst into laughter, drinking and joking as the evening wore on.

After some time, slightly tipsy from beer and pride, Stepan headed home. He was humming a tune, feeling unbeatable, as he pressed the doorbell.

The door opened.

Svetlana stood there. No tears, no shouting. Just a strange, calm, almost pitying smile playing on her lips.

Stepan walked inside — and froze.

The living room was empty. The shelves were bare. No books, no family photos, no potted plants on the windowsills.

In the kitchen, a white envelope sat on the table.

Stepan moved toward it, heart pounding. He opened it with trembling fingers.

Inside was a short note:

«I knew.
Thank you for everything.
We are leaving.
Please, do not look for us.»

Signed: Svetlana.

Stepan collapsed into a chair. His hands shook uncontrollably.

He ran to the bedroom — empty. The child’s room — empty. The bathroom — deserted.

On the mirror in the hallway, taped in the corner, he spotted another note:

«No one is obliged to endure betrayal.
Not even the most loyal woman.»

Stepan sank to the floor, burying his head in his hands.
The house was silent.
The walls felt like they were closing in on him.

For the first time in years, he felt the true, terrifying emptiness of loss.

Everything he had taken for granted was gone.