My husband went to visit his “sick” parents, and I decided to surprise him by showing up unannounced…
Every morning, Yulia woke up to the sound of raindrops tapping against the windowsill and saw gray clouds outside. The weather seemed to mirror her mood—anxious, uncertain, full of vague suspicions.
For the third week in a row, her husband Igor would pack his gym bag and announce:
— My parents aren’t feeling well; I’ll go see them for a couple of days.
The first time, Yulia took her husband’s words with understanding. Lyudmila Pavlovna, her mother-in-law, had recently undergone gallbladder surgery. Viktor Semyonovich, her father-in-law, complained of high blood pressure. At sixty-five, health could indeed falter.
— Of course, go, — said his wife. — Say hi to them from me, tell them I’m worried too.
Igor left on Friday evening and returned Monday morning. He came back tired and silent, as if coming off a long, heavy shift. When asked about his parents’ health, he answered in monosyllables:
— Feeling better. But still weak.
— What exactly hurts your mom? — Yulia asked.
— Everything hurts. Age, — Igor waved his hand.
The second time, the story repeated a week later.
— Again? Are they worse? — the wife asked, surprised.
— Mom fell and got hurt. Dad’s upset. I need to go, — Igor explained, packing clean shirts.
— Should I come too? Help with anything?
— No need. It’s already cramped there. Better for you to stay home.
Yulia agreed. She had always maintained a certain distance in her relationship with her husband’s parents—not imposing, not giving unsolicited advice. Lyudmila Pavlovna was a reserved woman, not particularly warm. They spoke politely but without any real closeness.
The third trip took place the following weekend.
— What’s wrong this time? — Yulia asked, watching Igor pack jeans and a sweater.
— Dad’s really unwell. His blood pressure’s all over the place. Mom can’t handle it alone.
— Haven’t you called a doctor?
— We did. But you know how the district doctors are now. Prescribed some pills and left.
Igor spoke convincingly, but something in his tone made his wife uneasy. It sounded rehearsed, lacking the genuine emotion of someone truly worried about sick parents.
— Igor, maybe they should go to the hospital? If it’s that serious?
— They don’t want to. They’re afraid of hospitals. They say it’s calmer at home.
He closed the bag and kissed his wife on the cheek.
— Don’t be bored. I’ll try to manage quickly.
After Igor left, Yulia was left alone with growing unease. She tried to recall the last time she had spoken with her mother-in-law on the phone. It had been about a month ago—Lyudmila Pavlovna had called to wish a friend a happy birthday.
Back then, her mother-in-law had sounded cheerful, asked about her daughter-in-law’s work, and talked about things at the dacha. No complaints about health. On the contrary, Lyudmila Pavlovna had bragged about the tomato harvest and winter plans.
— Strange, — Yulia muttered, standing by the window and watching the autumn rain. — If mom is feeling so bad, why hasn’t she called? She used to always tell us when she was sick.
On Monday, Igor returned even gloomier.
— How are your parents? — asked his wife.
— Dad’s better. Mom’s still weak.
— And what did the doctor say?
— What doctor? — her husband didn’t understand.
— The district doctor. You said you called him.
— Oh, right. Said to just watch them. If it gets worse—hospital.
Igor quickly changed clothes and sat at the computer. The conversation clearly wasn’t going anywhere.
In the evening, when her husband went to the shower, Yulia picked up his phone. She had never checked it before, but something told her now—she needed to look.
No calls to his parents. Neither outgoing nor incoming. Not a single contact with Lyudmila Pavlovna or Viktor Semyonovich in the past two weeks.
— How is that possible? — Yulia whispered. — If Igor is living there, why would he need to call?
But usually, when her husband went away, his parents would at least call Yulia once to check in, see if anything needed to be passed along to their son. This time—silence.
The fourth trip took place the following Friday.
— Again, your parents? — Yulia asked.
— Yes. Mom has a fever. I’m afraid she caught a cold.
— Igor, maybe I should come with you after all? Help take care of them.
— Why give yourself extra trouble? — her husband replied sharply. — You already have enough work.
— It’s no trouble for me. After all, they’re your parents. Which means they’re mine too.
— Yulia, don’t. It’s already cramped there. You’ll catch something.
Igor spoke convincingly, but he avoided meeting his wife’s eyes. He packed hastily, as if late for a train.
— Which train are you taking? — she asked.
— The usual one. Seven in the evening.
— Want me to see you off at the station?
— No need. I’ll manage.
He kissed her and left in a hurry. Yulia was left in the apartment, full of unanswered questions and strange coincidences.
Saturday morning, she spent in deep thought. Her mind raced, offering no rest. On one hand, accusing her husband of deception without proof seemed unfair. On the other—too many oddities had piled up over the past month.
— Am I really such a suspicious wife? — Yulia reproached herself. — Maybe my in-laws really are sick, and I’m just imagining problems?
By midday, she made a decision. If her father-in-law and mother-in-law were indeed ill, they would surely appreciate the care of their daughter-in-law. Yulia would bake a homemade pie, buy fruits, gather small gifts, and go visit her husband’s parents.
— I’ll surprise them, — she decided. — And at the same time, I’ll surprise Igor…
The kitchen was a pleasant chaos. Yulia kneaded the dough for a pie—her mother’s signature recipe. While the pastry baked in the oven, she went to the store for fruits and juice.
By three o’clock, everything was ready. The fragrant pie cooled on the table, and a bag of oranges and bananas sat by the door. Yulia changed into a nice dress, put on a little makeup, and headed to the train station.
On the train, she smiled, imagining the surprise on her husband’s face. Igor would open the door, see his wife with bags of treats, blink in confusion, and then break into a wide smile.
— Yulia? What are you doing here? — he would say.
— I decided to visit you, — his wife would answer. — To check on the sick.
The journey to his parents’ house took an hour and a half. Lyudmila Pavlovna and Viktor Semyonovich lived in a small town outside Moscow, in a two-story house with a garden. Igor had grown up in this house and knew every corner.
Yulia approached the familiar gate and rang the bell. A minute later, the door opened, and her mother-in-law appeared.
— Yulia? — Lyudmila Pavlovna was surprised. — What are you doing here?
She looked wonderful. Rosy cheeks, bright eyes, no sign of illness. She wore a casual tracksuit, her hair neatly tied back.
— Lyudmila Pavlovna, hello, — Yulia greeted awkwardly. — I came to visit you. Igor said you were unwell.
— Unwell? — her mother-in-law laughed sincerely. — What illness? We’re as healthy as horses! Where did you hear such rumors?
Yulia felt her face flush. Her heart started racing, and the bags of treats suddenly felt unbearably heavy.
— But Igor… He said he was taking care of you. That you weren’t feeling well.
— Taking care? — Lyudmila Pavlovna shook her head. — Yulenka, we haven’t seen our son in a week! Maybe even longer!
A voice came from deeper inside the house:
— Lyuda, who’s there?
— Yulia came to visit! — her mother-in-law called back.
Viktor Semyonovich appeared in the hallway. A seventy-year-old man, gray-haired but strong, wearing work trousers and a plaid shirt. He had apparently just been busy in his workshop.
— Oh, daughter-in-law! — the father-in-law greeted warmly. — What a surprise! You rarely visit us!
— Viktor Semyonovich, where’s Igor? — Yulia asked directly.
— How should I know? — the man shrugged. — Maybe at work? Or at your place?
— But he came to see you. Said you were sick and needed care.
The father-in-law exchanged a glance with his wife.
— Yulia, we’re not sick. And Igor hasn’t been here for a long time. The last time we saw him… when was it, Lyuda?
— On Peter’s Day, — remembered the mother-in-law. — In July. He came for my father’s birthday.
— Right. He hasn’t even called since then, — Viktor Semyonovich confirmed.
Inside, Yulia felt as if everything had collapsed. Every excuse her husband had given, every trip to his “sick” parents—had been a lie. A pure, unambiguous lie.
— Yulenka, what’s wrong? — Lyudmila Pavlovna asked worriedly. — You look pale. Come in, let’s have some tea.
— Thank you, but I have to go, — muttered the daughter-in-law.
— Go? You just arrived! And you brought a pie, I can see that! — her mother-in-law persisted.
— Another time, — Yulia handed over the bags. — This is for you. Enjoy.
— And where’s Igor? — the father-in-law asked, puzzled. — Why isn’t he with you?
— I don’t know, — she answered honestly.
Lyudmila Pavlovna and Viktor Semyonovich accompanied Yulia to the gate, exchanging confused glances. Yulia walked to the bus stop, her legs feeling numb.
Her mind was a jumble of thoughts: where had Igor spent the weekends? With whom? Why had he used his parents as a cover? And most importantly—how long had this lie been going on?
The bus to the station took half an hour. Yulia stared out at the gray September landscape, trying to piece her thoughts together. Every trip her husband had made to his “sick” parents now looked like mockery. Every explanation—a cynical manipulation.
— So while I was worrying about his parents, he… — Yulia couldn’t finish the thought.
On the train, she took out her phone and considered calling her husband. Then she changed her mind. What would she even ask? Where have you been? With whom? Why lie?
Better to wait until home. To look him in the eyes when he offered his next lie.
Yulia reached home by eight in the evening. The apartment was quiet and empty. She sat on the couch and waited.
Igor returned Monday morning, as usual. Keys jingled in the lock, the door opened. He came in tired, rumpled, carrying the same gym bag.
— Hi, — Igor mumbled, heading to the bedroom. — How was your weekend?
— Fine, — Yulia replied calmly. — And yours?
— Hard. My parents are really unwell.
— Oh? — she stood from the couch. — What exactly is wrong with them?
— Mom has a fever. Dad measured blood pressure all night. They’re exhausted.
Igor spoke without lifting his eyes, folding dirty laundry into the basket, taking medicine out of the bag.
— Igor, — his wife said softly. — Look at me.
He lifted his head. Anxiety flashed in his eyes.
— Where have you been all these days? — Yulia asked directly.
— Where? At my parents’. I told you.
— Your parents are healthy. They haven’t seen you in a week.
Igor froze, shirt in hand.
— What are you talking about?
— I went to see them yesterday. I wanted to help with the “sick” parents. Lyudmila Pavlovna was laughing when I asked about their illness.
His face went pale.
— You went to your parents? Why?
— Because I believed you. I thought they were really sick.
— Yulia, you don’t understand…
— What don’t I understand? — his wife interrupted. — That you’ve been lying to me for a month? That you’ve been using your parents as a cover?
— It’s not a lie…
— Then what is it? — Yulia stepped closer. — Igor, where did you spend the weekends? With whom?
Her husband turned to the window.
— I can’t explain it right now.
— Can’t or won’t?
— Yulia, believe me. It’s not what you think.
— And what do I think? — she asked coldly.
— Well… that I have someone. Another woman.
— Isn’t that true?
Igor remained silent. The silence lasted a minute, then another. Finally, he sighed heavily.
— Yes, — Igor admitted quietly.
Yulia nodded. Strangely, there was no anger. Only emptiness and clarity.
— I see.
— Yulia, it’s not serious! It just… happened…
— A month ago, it happened?
— No, earlier. But I didn’t know how to tell you.
— So that’s why you lied about sick parents?
— I wanted to figure things out for myself. To understand what I needed.
— And did you?
Igor was silent again.
— Igor, I’m asking: did you understand what you need?
— I don’t know, — her husband answered honestly.
— I know, — Yulia said. — I need someone who doesn’t lie. Someone who doesn’t use sick parents as a cover for an affair.
— It’s not an affair…
— Call it what you want. The result is the same—you lied to me for a month.
She went to the bedroom and took a small suitcase from the closet.
— What are you doing? — Igor asked, alarmed.
— Packing. — Yulia was putting the essentials into the suitcase. — I’ll stay with a friend. Until we figure things out.
— Figure out what?
— You—with your feelings. Me—with the divorce papers.
— Yulia, don’t rush! Let’s talk calmly!
— Talk about what? — she closed the suitcase. — About how you’ve been leading me on for a month? About how I worried over your healthy parents?
— I didn’t want to hurt you…
— That’s why you hurt me even more.
Yulia took the documents from the safe and put her phone and charger in the bag.
— If you want to explain anything—call. But I doubt you’ll find an excuse for a month of lies.
— What about our home? Our family?
— Family is trust, — she replied. — And the house can be divided through lawyers.
Yulia walked to the door.
— Wait, — Igor pleaded. — Maybe we can still try? I’ll end everything else, we’ll start over…
— Start over at what? That you’ll lie again about sick parents?
— I won’t lie. I promise.
— Igor, — she stopped at the threshold. — You promised to be a faithful husband. See what happened with promises.
Yulia left the apartment and closed the door. The hallway was quiet; somewhere above, music played.
Outside, a fine rain was falling. The same as a month ago, when it all began. Yulia pulled up her jacket collar and walked toward the metro.
Her phone rang as she descended into the underground passage. Her husband’s name appeared on the screen. Yulia declined the call and tucked the phone into her bag.
The decision was made. She could no longer live with a man who had spent a month using allegedly sick parents as a cover for an affair. Trust was broken, and the family—too.
Ahead were talks with lawyers, dividing property, a new life. But at least this life would be honest. No more lies about sick parents or secret trips to another woman.
The metro carried Yulia away from the past toward an unknown, but honest, future.
