Anastasia wiped the dust from her forehead and the cobwebs from her cheeks, feeling her face burning.
Her hiding place in the closet had never been a comfortable spot, her legs had gone numb from the awkward position. 

Boris had just entered the apartment. At that hour, he was supposed to be at the office, but there he was, speaking on the phone in a warm, slightly emotional tone, exactly the kind of tone back when he still left her notes on the fridge and roses on the windowsill.

Over the past year, their relationship had slid down a steep slope. There were evenings when Boris pretended to work late while Anastasia fell asleep alone, their daughter Paulina curling up beside her in bed. 

The whole story had started with a simple folder of documents that Paulina had thrown behind the wardrobe while playing. When Anastasia noticed the folder was missing, she had asked Boris to help move the wardrobe.
— “I’ll come with my brother this weekend, what’s the rush?” — he snapped at her, the way he’d been doing for some time now.

But she couldn’t wait any longer. So that morning, Anastasia stormed home in a rush. When she finally pulled out the folder, she felt like she had won a small but important battle.

The very next second, the door opened, and Boris walked in, speaking in a strangely confidential tone.
Anastasia pressed herself against the wall inside the dressing room and began to listen. At first, it sounded like he was talking about some business deal, but as the words kept flowing, she felt like her world was collapsing.

— “Yes, Mom… the money’s been set aside. We’re moving after the holidays. We just need to find the right moment to tell Ana I’m leaving…”

He went on:
— “Alina has agreed to everything. And the little girl… we’ll come up with a story. Anyway, Ana doesn’t suspect a thing. She’s always busy with Paulina and work. Just like we planned, right?”

“Alina… who is Alina?” Anastasia was collapsing on the inside, but she didn’t make a sound.

The call ended, and Boris walked off toward the kitchen. Then she stepped out of the dressing room, folder in hand and tears in her eyes.
Boris froze when he saw her.
— “W-What are you doing home?” he stammered.
— “Let’s just say… I found more than just a folder today, Boris,” she replied, in a voice she didn’t even know she had. “And you know what? I don’t need any more explanations.”

She picked up her bag from the coat rack and walked out the door. That day, Anastasia didn’t just lose trust in a man. She lost an entire life built on lies. But she gained something even more precious: the freedom to start over.

Because sometimes, the deepest betrayals hide in the most ordinary moments. And even though they break you, they open the path to a version of yourself that is stronger, clearer, and more dignified.