“No one will find out,” Vlad hissed, picking up a heavy stone. “I’ll say you fell off the cliff. That’s it — the end. Nobody will look for you. We’re on another continent. Who would bother with some lost tourist? And I’ll come home a widower, inherit everything… and finally marry the one I really love. And I’ll forget about you like a terrible nightmare!”
Marina had dreamed about this trip to Africa for a long time. For many months, she had visions of green jungles full of screeching monkeys and bright birds, scorching desert sands, endless savannahs with giraffes and lions, where every step felt like touching a primordial world. She wanted to escape the gray, snow-covered city, the constant rain and gloomy routine, to find herself somewhere out there — among wild, free life.
Now the ticket to Congo was already in her pocket, and only a few hours remained until Africa. She packed swimsuits, shorts, and hats into her luggage without regret — everything she might need in the tropics. But for Marina, this was more than just a trip. It was a chance. A chance to save her marriage.
They had been married for only a year and a half, but a gulf had already formed between them. Sometimes she felt Vlad despised her — or even hated her. They worked together, but he barely paid attention to her, even though she was his boss. After the accident that killed her parents, Marina inherited the family advertising agency. And almost immediately, Vlad appeared in her life.
Somehow, he managed to win her trust. He was well-read, gallant, sharp-tongued, and able to surprise. Marina missed that so much that, on impulse, she agreed to marry him. After a luxurious wedding and a honeymoon on the ocean shore, something cold and foreign began to awaken in their relationship. Now Marina hoped this trip would help restore whatever could still be saved.
When Vlad passed Marina’s room and saw her struggling to zip up an overstuffed bag, he stopped and snorted mockingly:
“Are you planning to stay there forever? Why so much stuff?”
Marina, having managed the zipper, smiled tiredly:
“I just want to be different every day. At least on the outside.”
Vlad snorted again, shrugged, and left. Marina watched him go and sighed deeply.
“Hope it’s not for nothing…” she muttered to herself.
Three days later, after several transfers in different countries, they arrived in Congo. From there, a tourist bus took them to a village where the base camp was located. Marina looked around like a child discovering a new universe. Vlad remained silent, sitting with a displeased expression and clearly not sharing her enthusiasm.
He was annoyed by everyone: the loud laughing Americans, the old couple from France, even the young guide — a pretty Black woman fluent in Russian and English. He looked at her with barely concealed contempt, and when Marina nudged him, he responded only with a scowl.
“Look how beautiful!” she whispered, pointing at a rhino slowly walking across the savannah. “So huge! Think it could flip our bus?”
Vlad didn’t even glance.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Only if it flips, then I can finally get some sleep.”
He threw a nasty look at the Americans who were laughing again, stuck his tongue out. They responded with friendly smiles and waved.
“Stop it, for God’s sake!” Marina hissed. “Don’t ruin people’s vacation!”
But Vlad turned away deliberately and closed his eyes as if falling asleep. Marina stopped trying to engage him — now the savannah no longer pleased her as before. Something inside him had broken. She didn’t know exactly what, but one thing was clear: their marriage might be beyond saving.
The first night in Africa passed quickly. Occasionally waking, Marina listened to the eerie cries of nocturnal birds that sent chills down her spine. In the morning, after a quick breakfast, the group headed to the famous waterfall hidden deep in the jungle. The bus could only reach the entrance; after that, they had to walk about two kilometers along a narrow path surrounded by crooked shrubs and low trees.
Marina and Vlad slung backpacks on their shoulders and followed the guide and guards. She walked happily, curiously looking around, picking flowers and trying to catch large blue butterflies. Vlad was silent, purposely not looking at his wife.
“Look who I caught!” Marina laughed, holding out a large striped beetle resting on her palm, taking up almost her whole hand. “So heavy, like a stone…”
“That’s a Goliath beetle,” Vlad said with little interest, looking disgustedly at the insect. “We had one in our biology classroom at school. But it was dead.”
Marina skillfully tossed the beetle into the air; it spread its wings and slowly flew through the tropical air.
“How do you know all this?” Marina tried to lighten the mood in his voice. “About beetles and everything… Did your mom read you encyclopedias instead of fairy tales?”
For the first time in a long while, Vlad slightly paused…
He smiled faintly:
“No, my mom never read to me. She always worked, I hardly saw her. I had to learn to read on my own… when I was five.”
Marina nodded, understandingly and a bit sadly. She adjusted the backpack strap that had slipped off her shoulder.
“My parents often read aloud to me,” she said thoughtfully. “Especially my mom — she had such a soft, warm voice. And my dad liked scary stories. Sometimes he scared me terribly before bed, but it was still interesting…”
She wanted to continue, but suddenly a worried shout came from behind. Both turned sharply. The guide girl was hurrying towards them.
“Madam Legrange had a heart attack,” she explained hurriedly. “Her husband and two Americans took her back to the hotel. If you want, you can return too.”
“No, we’ll go on,” Marina replied firmly. “We’re almost there.”
The guide nodded and, reminding them to stay on the path, hurried back to the bus.
“Seems she had too much wine yesterday,” Vlad snorted, wiping sweat from his forehead. “No wonder she had an attack. It’s hellishly hot here.”
He fell silent, and Marina tried to speak to him again, but Vlad switched back to “silent mode.” She also got tired of fighting his coldness and was silent for a long time.
But she couldn’t hold back for long.
“What’s wrong with you, Vlad?” she finally couldn’t stand it. “Why are you acting like this? As if I’m not even here! Am I bothering you? Work? Position? Or… do you have someone else? Tell me straight. Stop ignoring me like I’m nothing to you!”
Vlad’s face went stone cold. He clenched his jaw but still answered:
“We’ve arrived,” he said, pointing ahead, where a waterfall appeared between the trees. “Look… it’s beautiful.”
Marina, annoyed and angry, reluctantly approached the edge of the rocky plateau. Right in front of her, from a great height, a majestic waterfall plunged down into a round, mirror-like lake. Its power and beauty were mesmerizing. For a moment she forgot everything.
Meanwhile, Vlad carefully put down his backpack and picked up a large, smooth stone from the ground.
“You’re right,” he said in a low voice. “I do have someone else. Her name is Alisa. You know her. And she’s pregnant. Six weeks. Mine.”
Marina slowly turned to him, not believing her ears.
“Alisa? From marketing?” she exhaled. “You cheated on me with her?”
Vlad nodded.
“I love her. I never loved you,” his voice became harsh. “I married you to get access to your business. I put up with your tantrums for so long, but never got a promotion. Always: ‘you work badly,’ ‘projects are dull’… Damn it, you petty bitch!”
He stepped forward. Marina instinctively stepped back, slipped on the wet ground, almost fell.
“Vlad, don’t do this,” she begged. “I’ll give you money, we’ll divorce officially. Just not here. Not like this. Please…”
But he didn’t listen. Raising the stone, he slowly approached his wife. She tried to run, but the heavy backpack hindered her. Marina stumbled and ended up at the very edge of the cliff.
Vlad raised his hand.
The blow was sudden. Her head spun, her vision darkened. Marina felt herself falling — into the green, roaring abyss. The water took her into its embrace.
A second later she surfaced, gasping. Blood flowed from a wound on her head. Above, only the sound of the waterfall.
“Help!” she cried, feeling her strength fading. “Someone!”
Her scream dissolved into the eternal symphony of the wild. No one heard it.
With the last effort, Marina reached for the shore. Getting out of the water, she found shelter in a small cave hidden behind bushes and, collapsing on the cold, damp floor, lost consciousness.
Vlad ran through the village, reckless. One thought in his mind: make it look like an accident. Meeting the guide and guards halfway, he theatrically fell to the ground and covered his face with his hands.
“My wife…” he screamed, pretending to sob. “She fell from the waterfall! She wanted to approach the lake… and slipped! God, I couldn’t do anything!”
The guide and guards helped him up, took him to the bus, and asked the Americans to watch him. But hearing the police were being called, Vlad suddenly jumped up, pushed one of the tourists, and ran out of the bus, disappearing into the jungle as if he never existed.
Marina slowly came to. Her head was pounding, her body aching, but she knew she couldn’t waste time. Feeling her way along the cold cave walls, she moved blindly, losing track of minutes and hours. At some point, a bright light blinded her, and she heard people’s voices — rescuers. Seeing them, Marina instinctively raised her hands to show she was not dangerous. Suddenly, a gorilla appeared nearby — wild but calm. The rescuers lowered their weapons and cautiously approached her.
Some time later, Marina was standing by the lake where the majestic waterfall poured. The guide and several policemen were there, writing notes. Noticing the woman, they fell silent and approached her.
“Thank God you’re alive!” the guide hugged her, trying not to look at the wound on her head. “We…”
They searched all the caves after the divers couldn’t find you in the lake. How did you manage to survive?
Marina briefly recounted what had happened, feeling her body begging for rest.
— Where is my husband? — she asked. — Why isn’t he with you?
The guide frowned and exchanged a glance with a police officer. After a slight pause, the officer spoke in broken English:
— Your husband… he is dead. After you disappeared, he ran into the jungle. Later, two locals saw him fall into the river. He hit the rocks, and then a crocodile dragged his body away. Sorry.
He took out a cigarette, rolled it between his fingers, and dropped it on the ground. Then he walked away silently.
— A crocodile… — Marina repeated, picking up the unfinished cigarette from the ground. — What a nightmare…
She asked the guide for a lighter and sat for a long time, staring at the falling waterfall. Thoughts swirled in her head like a flock of frightened birds. It was hard for her to believe that it had all really happened — that she had gone through betrayal, a treacherous attack, and a fall off a cliff. Only the bruises, pain, and scar on her head reminded her of reality.
With effort, she got up and followed the guide to the bus, ignoring the journalists with their microphones and cameras.
After everything that happened, Marina made a decision — the vacation was over. At home, she held a symbolic funeral and handed over management of the advertising agency to her friend Victoria. She came to work only once — to meet with Alisa, the marketing department employee whose name Vlad had said before his death.
When the girl entered the office, Marina silently put a paper bag of money on the desk.
— Here’s twenty thousand, — she said, not taking her eyes off the photo where she and Vlad were still together. — Take it, write your resignation, and leave. Forever.
Alisa looked into the bag, paled, and slowly sank into a chair.
— And Vlad? — she asked quietly. — We… You know everything?
Marina nodded silently.
— He’s gone, — she said coldly. — He told me everything — right before… So forget about me. Write your resignation and get out.
Alisa took the paper and pen but hesitated for a long time about what to write.
— What should I put? — she finally asked.
— I don’t know, I don’t care, — Marina replied indifferently, turning the photo face down toward the wall. — You can just say “resignation of your own accord.” That’s even better.
Alisa quickly jotted down the text, and Marina sent it to HR without even reading it. When the girl left, Marina closed the blinds, turned off the light, and left the office that had suddenly become too hard to breathe in.
Marina spent several months seeing a psychotherapist. After Africa, she suffered from headaches and nightmares that only medication could help with. Sometimes, to distract herself, she went to the park. On the doctor’s advice, she got a dog — a big, good-natured retriever named Rocky. Now she no longer felt lonely.
One spring evening, walking Rocky in the park, Marina heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw a young man in a long, worn coat holding a canvas. He timidly approached and handed her the painting.
— My name is Matvey. I’m a street artist. I often see you here in the park… I decided to paint you. What do you think?
Marina carefully unfolded the canvas. It showed her face — a bit sad, a bit thoughtful, but real.
— Very good, — she smiled. — I look almost younger. But why so sad?
Matvey shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled awkwardly.
— You always have that expression on your face, — he said, looking at the toes of his boots. — I didn’t want to beautify it. If you want, I can paint another portrait…
Marina laughed, carefully put the canvas in her bag, and tugged Rocky’s leash as he impatiently pulled forward.
— I’d love to model for you again, — she said, — but now I have to go. See you.
She had already taken a few steps when Matvey gently touched her sleeve.
— Excuse me… — he began with a trembling voice, as if afraid of his own words. — I wanted to ask… What are you doing tonight?
Marina looked at him understandingly and smiled slightly.
— Nothing special, — she answered. — Why? Do you have any ideas?
Matvey hesitated but finally nodded:
— We could… take a walk. Or just have a coffee…
Marina quietly laughed and took a crumpled business card out of her pocket.
— Here, — she handed it to him. — When you decide where to invite me — call right away. Maybe you’ll come up with something more interesting than a boring café. You’re an artist, right? You must have plenty of imagination.
With that, she lightly patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Matvey stood in place, clutching the card and watching her leave. When she disappeared from view, Marina looked at Rocky and thoughtfully said:
— So, what do you think of this guy? Seems alright, huh? And he paints well. Maybe it’s really worth going?
Rocky wagged his tail happily and barked loudly.
— You think so too? — Marina smiled. — Then I’m in.
She continued on her way, wondering where exactly Matvey might suggest meeting. In truth, it didn’t matter where — as long as there was someone nearby who…
She really hears her. And, strangely enough, she felt that Matvey could be that person. She liked him. And that was already important.
Time passed. Marina tried not to remember Vlad. What had happened stayed there, in hot Africa, in a memory full of pain and fear. Now her life was different. With Matvey, their relationship was still tender and shy—more friendly than romantic. But she did not rush things. His courtship was pleasant, his attention sincere.
And she hardly thought about Alisa. She didn’t know where she was now and didn’t want to know. Deep down, Marina felt she was clean in front of that woman. She didn’t know the full truth about many things—and perhaps it was better that way.
Her new life was beginning slowly but surely. With a dog, with walks, with canvases filled with light. And with a chance to start over.
