«Here are clothes and food for a week. I’m going on vacation with my mistress and taking the kids,» my husband said, tossing the bag onto the snowy veranda of the summer chalet. But he couldn’t even imagine the surprise that awaited them at the airport… ☹️
It was minus fifteen degrees. The snow crackled under our feet, and the air burned our lungs. This country house was fifty kilometers from the city—no neighbors, no transport, no signal. The perfect place to escape one’s wife.
I stood there in my old coat, clutching a folder in my hands, silently watching my husband hurriedly pull a wet boot and a bag of grain out of the trunk. He did everything quickly, nervously—as if he feared spending even another minute with me.
“I’ve changed the apartment locks! You can’t go home!” he shouted from the car.
The children were in the back seat. They didn’t look at me. Everything had already been explained to them—in their own way.
The black SUV roared to life, its wheels slipping on the loose snow. Slowly, the car disappeared among the pines, leaving behind only tire tracks and the smell of exhaust.
I watched him drive away… and smiled. Because my husband and his mistress had no idea what surprise awaited them at the airport.
My husband had forgotten the most important thing. He didn’t know that I had opened his suitcase during the night while he slept. That I had carefully sorted every item. That I had put an empty folder inside and kept all his belongings with me.
Hours passed. The snow fell harder and harder. I lit the stove, made some tea, and waited patiently.
Late in the evening, the phone rang.
