She simply wanted to see the woman hed left her for…
Parshin walked straight into the kitchen, still in his coat, and sat at the table.
“I love someone else. Shes expecting my child. Im leaving to be with her,” he said bluntly, without preamble.
Vita turned off the tap and faced her husband.
“That girl who sells apples at the market stall? Tonya, isnt it?” she asked calmly.
“You knew?” His eyes snapped up to hers.
“Darling, youre a terrible liar. Of course I knew. Tell me, do you love her, or are you leaving just because of the baby?”
“Im sorry.” He bowed his head.
*What about the ten years we spent together? Do they mean nothing? What about me?* Her eyes screamed the words, but Vita stayed silent.
“Are you planning to marry her?” she asked.
“Not now.”
“Then lets keep things civil at the department. I dont want gossip and whispers behind my back.”
“Agreed. Should I go?” He stood.
Vita turned back to the sink, turned on the water, and stared at the stream until Parshin left.
He was quick about itonly took the essentials. Maybe hed come back?
She turned off the tap, sat at the table in the spot hed just vacated, and dropped her head onto her folded arms. But she didnt cry.
***
She hadnt cried a month earlier, either, when her friend told her shed seen Parshin with another woman.
“A student?” Vita had asked. “Students fall for him all the time. What do they even see in him?”
“No, not a student. She sells fruit at the market across from the university. Tonya. From the countryside, lives in a shared flat on Wellington Street. Twenty-three,” her friend rattled off, precise as a detective in a crime drama.
“How do you know all this?” Vita had been stunned.
“Small town. My friend lives in that building. You might remember herLisa Dawson. She was in our year. Your Parshins there all the time.”
“I dont recall. So thats where he goes instead of staying late with students.”
Seeing was believing. The next day, Vita decided to follow him. She knew when his last lecture ended, dressed discreetly, and waited in the hall, hidden behind a pillar.
When he left the building, she trailed him at a distance, careful not to stare. He might feel her gaze and turn. She wanted to keep her dignity, not let him think shed stoop to spying. She just wanted to see the woman hed chosen over her.
He stopped near the girls fruit stall. A short queue of three people waited. The girl, in a sleeveless vest over a hoodie and jeans, weighed apples with brisk efficiency. When she bent toward the crates, her thick braid slipped over her shoulder, loose strands falling into her face. Shed straighten, blow them aside. A sweet but plain face, dimples appearing when she smiled. She served customers patiently but kept darting glances at Parshin. *Probably shortchanging them. Maybe I should call Trading Standards?* Vita thought bitterly.
The last customer, an elderly woman, scrutinised each apple before dropping it into Tonyas held-out bag.
“Thats enough,” the woman finally said.
“Take these plums too. Sweet and soft. Good for jam,” Tonya offered.
The woman hesitated, squeezed a few plums, then shook her head.
“No, thanks. How much?”
The bag held nearly a kilo of apples, but Tonya named a ridiculously low price. The woman brightened, paid, and hurried off before the girl changed her mind.
*She pities the elderly!* Vita was stunned. *Not at her own expense, of course. Fruit spoils fastshe can write off the loss. Or is this an act for Parshin?*
Vita passed the stall daily, even eyed the plums, but never noticed the girl. Yet Parshin had.
With the last customer gone, he approached Tonya. Vita saw the way the girl looked at himlike he was a god. *Well, nearly a PhD, isnt he?* Tonya adjusted his coat, brushed invisible dust from his shoulders. The tender gesture stabbed Vita. Shed thought it was just an affair, but this was love.
She couldnt see Parshins face but knew he gazed at Tonya just as adoringly. Not waiting to be spotted, Vita walked away.
That night, alone at home, she finally cried.
***
Shed noticed him at university first. Quiet, serious, never at parties, few friends, indifferent to girls. Handsome, if not for his brooding scowl. There was something mysterious about himhe reminded her of Heathcliff.
One lecture, she sat beside him.
“Bored?” she asked.
He looked at her, smiled, and his face transformed. *He* is *handsome*, she thought. After that, they sat together often, then he walked her home.
“What do you see in him?” a jealous friend asked.
“Best you dont know, or youd steal him,” Vita replied.
Their relationship grew slowly. By final year, they were close, and married soon after graduation. His parents werent at the weddingtheyd died in a crash years earlier. That explained his reserve.
But in bed, he was gentle, and afterward, hed recite Keats, Eliot, Auden. He read beautifully. Vita listened, heart pounding, as his voice plucked at her soul.
She longed for a child but knew it was unlikely. As a girl, shed fallen through ice; doctors said shed likely never conceive. Ten years with Parshin passed without the miracle she prayed for. He reassured herthey could adopt when she was ready. But she wanted her own. Would she love anothers child?
After university, they both stayed on as lecturers. Lately, their relationship had settled into quiet companionship. They were inseparablehome, work, always together. Vita cherished it. But ParshinAlexander, as she called himwanted passion, fire, a child. And so hed found a simple girl whod give him one.
When Vita learned hed fathered a child, jealousy burnednot over the affair, but the baby. *Hell have a son or daughter, and Ill never hold my own.*
Well, if she couldnt bear one, shed let someone else. She couldnt argue against a child. Maybe he needed someone uncomplicated. What good was a clever, barren wife? Did he read Tonya poetry too?
At work, they acted as beforejust left separately, inventing excuses. No one questioned it.
Parshin moved into Tonyas shared flat. Vita hoped hed reconsider, but weeks passed, and he didnt return. Leaving the university, she avoided looking toward the market.
She learned about the baby between lectures. He approached her, eyes shining, and whispered the news. She forced congratulations. He left for the hospital. That evening, he came to her, sobbingTonya had died. A stroke. Vita comforted him.
“The babys alive. A girl. What will you do?”
“Ill take her,” he said hoarsely.
“What about work?”
“My aunt will help at first. Ill go part-time.”
But by spring, his aunt leftgarden to tend, and the girl was older. Parshin hired a nanny, fired her the next daytoo busy on her phone while the baby cried. Days later, he called Vita.
“Please, I cant do this alone.”
“You left me, and now you ask for help? Really, Alexander?”
“Just come.”
Grudges aside, the child was innocent. The moment Vita held the girl, resentment vanished. She loved her instantly. Parshin had named her AliceTonya loved Adele, often hummed her songs. Alice Parshin. Not a bad name.
At first, Vita visitedcooked meals, ironed, walked Alice, minded her during Parshins lectures. Then the flatmates complainedthe tenant was dead, a stranger lived there with a child. He was evicted.
“Pack your things. You and Alice are moving in with me,” Vita said without hesitation.
At first, they slept apart. When Alice said “Mummy,” Vitas heart nearly burst.
One evening, returning from work, she heard Alices gigglesand Parshins laughter. She froze in the doorway. The toddler wobbled toward him; he caught her, tossed her gently. Both laughed. Vita had never heard him laugh. He looked so happy, tears welled. She sniffed.
“Youre home?” He turned. “Look!” He set Alice down, stepped back. She toddled to him.
All evening, he marvelled at her first steps. That night, they were intimate again. He read her poetry, and her heart soared.
“Did you read to her too?” she ventured.
She expected anger, withdrawal.
“Once. She didnt understand,” he said after a pause.
Alice grew, started nursery, resembled Tonya more each day.
After work, Vita and Parshin passed the market. A different womanolder, with garish red hair and grubby nailsnow sold fruit. She winked at Parshin.
“Lets go,” he said, disgusted.
That night, as Vita washed dishes, he hugged her from behind.
“Thank you. Without you… I adore you both.”
“Without you and Tonya, thered be no Alice.”
Vita had forgiven. If shed held onto pride, thered be no Alice, no reunited family. Just a lonely, empty life.
She pitied Tonya, gone too soon. But shed left Alice. One day, theyd tell her about her birth mother. Or maybe not. Vita had raised her, loved hershe was Alices real mother now.
