“All Secrets Come to Light: How a Cracked Screen and a Split Forehead Revealed the Secret Hidden by Love, Fear, and Laundry”
Everything came to light completely by accident. Alla had never spied on her husband—she never checked his phone or monitored his bank transactions.
She already had plenty to worry about: her job at the travel agency required handling countless critical tasks for clients every day, and after work, she would pick up her three-year-old son, Maxim, from kindergarten and focus on his equally important needs. And then, as usual: soup, cutlets, laundry, a series on the laptop…
So, the only things she knew about her husband Andrey’s life were that he worked as a programmer at a large company, attended aikido twice a week, and occasionally went fishing with friends on weekends.
That day, however, misfortune struck Alla—the five-member family missed their connecting flight due to a delay. She spent the entire evening on the phone and was utterly exhausted. So when everything was finally resolved, she simply went to take a bath, even though Andrey hadn’t yet returned from training. She left the door open to listen for her son and handed him her phone. At first, everything was fine.
Then she heard her son crying hysterically. She jumped out of the bath, tangled in her robe sleeves, and ran to help. Her son had fallen, and the phone had too. The screen was shattered, and blood was running from the cut on his head. Alla was ready to scream herself, but she gathered her strength and began comforting her son, holding him tightly.
With her son in her arms, she rushed to the landline to call an ambulance. Surprisingly, it arrived quickly, and a young paramedic assessed the situation:
— He’ll need stitches. Get ready; we’re going to the hospital.
Alla was still in her robe with wet hair. How could she go out like that? Fortunately, Andrey arrived—she breathed a sigh of relief as she heard keys turning in the door. Quickly assessing the situation, he took their son and said:
— I’ll take him.
— I’ll come with you, — Alla pleaded weakly, feeling even more guilty.
— With wet hair? — Andrey asked skeptically. — Dry it first and then take a taxi after us.
Alla pointed to her phone, its screen now a web of cracks, constantly flickering. Andrey took his phone, handed it to Alla, and said:
— Take mine; let’s go.
Swallowing her tears, Alla dried her hair with a hairdryer, put on jeans and a sweater, and opened the app to call a taxi. It immediately prompted her to rate a previous ride. Alla did so automatically, and before entering the address, she noticed that the first suggested location was completely unfamiliar.
There was no time to think about it now, so she simply ordered the car. Later, once in the taxi, she looked at the app again to see where he had been going. She had never done anything like this before, and she even blushed slightly, feeling as if the driver—a stern mustachioed man—could sense she was doing something inappropriate and was judging her.
This address appeared repeatedly in the trip history. Examining the dates, she realized with horror that they corresponded exactly to the days when her husband had aikido.
Alla turned off the screen. Now what was she supposed to do with this information? Why had she even looked? After a moment, she turned it on again to check the calls. Sure enough—the last outgoing call was to some Lena. As the saying goes, when trouble comes, open the gates.
At the hospital, she had difficulty finding her husband and son, who had already been admitted. They were just about to start stitching his head. Alla wanted to accompany them, but her husband gently and firmly stopped her, saying it would be too painful for her to watch.
They returned home late, fed their son chocolate cereal balls with milk, and, as usual, Andrey read him a bedtime story.
Alla didn’t know how to behave. If he had, for example, scolded her for going to the bath and leaving their little boy alone, she might have retorted that if he came home after work instead of going to Lena, there would have been someone to watch their son. But he didn’t blame her; on the contrary, he comforted her, saying this could happen to anyone. The next day, he even bought her a new phone.
— Don’t even think about telling him anything! — her friend, the only one she had confided in, advised. — That’s exactly what they’re waiting for. Maybe he’s having a midlife crisis or is just tired of domestic life. He’ll get over it and forget about this Lena.
Alla nodded obediently. She herself didn’t want to part from her husband—her son needed a father, and she needed a husband.
But she couldn’t endure it for long. Every time he returned from aikido, throwing his uniform bag on the floor, she wanted to scratch his eyes out. No, he had to be pretending! One day she snapped, shook his uniform onto the floor, and loudly asked:
— Are you aware that it smells of laundry detergent? Have you ever even worn it?
Her husband stared at her in genuine bewilderment, and Alla sank onto the ottoman, covering her face with her hands, crying, and asked:
— Who is Lena?
Andrey made some strange sound and then said:
— I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide it from you for long… I’m sorry…
— Sorry? — Alla exploded, almost lunging at him with her fists. — Is that all you can say? Get out!
— That’s what I feared, — he sighed. — That you would break up with me immediately.
— So you weren’t afraid to go there, — Alla snapped sarcastically. — As if anyone forced you.
— No, I went myself, — Andrey admitted. — But you understand, who else would help her?
— I’m supposed to understand you? That’s unbelievable! And who understands me? Does she even know you have a wife and child?
— Of course she does, I always show her photos.
Alla could hardly imagine showing photos of their son eating ice cream and of herself holding flowers to a mistress. Indeed, her husband knew how to surprise her.
— You know what? Enough. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Pack your things and leave.
Andrey didn’t argue. He put a couple of shirts, jeans, a razor, and his laptop into that same bag.
— I’ll pick up the rest later, — he muttered and left.
Alla had to tell their son that his father had gone on a business trip. She had no energy to explain that his dad was a liar, living a double life, and that he no longer had a place in theirs. She cried the entire evening, and by morning, life went on, leaving no time to grieve.
The next evening, when the doorbell rang, Alla hoped it was Andrey coming to apologize. At the same time, she feared he had come simply to retrieve the remaining items. She was also angry, ready to tell him exactly what she thought. But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Andrey—it was a slender girl of about fifteen, wearing a short blue jacket and sneakers over bare feet, just like teenagers often do.
— Hello, — she said. — Are you Alla?
— Yes, — Alla replied, confused, not understanding why this young girl was there.
— I’m Lena. Andrey’s sister.
Probably, Alla’s face must have shown so much disbelief that the girl clarified:
— Your husband. He said you found out everything about me and about mom.
— Sister? — Alla stammered. — What sister? He’s an orphan…
The girl’s eyes widened, but then Alla began to understand.
— Sorry, — she said. — Come in.
She opened the door and stepped aside. The girl entered the apartment and hesitated. At that moment, Alla’s son ran out from the hallway, long recovered from his injury, though a pale green streak still crossed his forehead.
— Maximka! — the girl said joyfully, and catching Alla’s gaze, added: — I’ve always wanted to see him…
Alla practically dragged Lena into the kitchen. While Lena pleaded for forgiveness for her brother, taking all the blame upon herself, Alla asked persistent questions and uncovered the whole truth. When Andrey met Alla, the daughter of a professor and art historian, he was afraid to tell her parents the truth. On meeting day, they naturally started probing about the suitor’s biography and financial situation. How do you tell people like that that your father was killed in a street fight and your mother was an alcoholic?
So he lied, claiming his parents had long died in a car accident. One lie led to another. No matter what his mother was like, she was still his mother, and he visited her regularly, bringing groceries, fixing taps and switches. And he had a sister, for whom he was a ray of light in a dark world.
This year, Lena was taking her final exams, and Andrey had come to tutor her. So it was Lena’s idea that caused all this. She was ready to give up her lessons if only Alla allowed Andrey to come home and forgave him.
— Is he with you now? — Alla asked.
Lena nodded.
Alla didn’t hesitate. She gathered her son, called a taxi, and went with Lena to that same address etched firmly in her memory. Maxim asked about Lena:
— Who is she?
— She’s your Aunt Lena, — Alla said. — And now we’re going to meet your grandmother too.
Honestly, Alla didn’t forgive Andrey immediately. Not for deceiving her so long, but for being ashamed of his family and depriving his mother and sister of time with Maxim.
— Did you ever read about semolina porridge as a child? — she finally asked with a smile, once her anger and resentment had fully subsided. Andrey caught her mood, smiled broadly, and said:
— Yes, I did. All secrets come to light. I won’t do it again.
And they laughed.
