How I Stayed in America (Part 5)

We did not have a wedding. I am strongly convinced that most men do weddings for either their bride or their parents. Plus, I never wanted a wedding. Maybe it would have been nice to put on a beautiful white dress with a plume, but white clothing makes me look bigger, and that’s why this story never came to fruition. My fiance proposed to me even before he found out about my pregnancy. Let me share how this happened.

Despite my adultery, I still lived in the same apartment with my common-law husband. In May, I fled to Paris with my young lover for the final of the 4th. We spent several days there filled with passion.

Together, we even visited Disneyland for the first time. It was a very romantic trip with a lot of emotions: here you have basketball games, affection, and a halo of mystery. Once, while walking around Paris at night, we accidentally stumbled upon Shabtai Kalmanovich and his wife Nastya. Nastya knew me as the common-law wife of a completely different person. Shabtai knew Andrei as a lonely single guy.

Surprisingly, when they saw us together, they got excited, said that they were going to a restaurant with friends, and began to persuade us to go with them. We agreed.

We came to a fancy seafood restaurant, and our table was prepared in a separate room. The group of guests was really large: many respectable adult Russians and Israelis, who were also big basketball fans. Of course, Andrei as a figure was appealing to everyone. Shabtai introduced us: “Meet Andrei and his future wife Masha.” I almost fell under the table! I was outraged — what do you mean “wife”?!

Upon our arrival in Moscow, we each went to our own apartments. My common-law husband met me at the airport. The whole CSKA team was confused. My lover felt lost. He understood that I was slowly slipping away from him.

-Maybe it’s better if we break up. This all just does not seem right. How about we take a pause?

-Yes, let’s take a pause, — I replied and went back home.

I returned home, laid down on the sofa, and could not get up for three days straight. The TV screen was constantly on; I was watching a bunch of movies. My roommate tried talking to me, but I didn’t hear anything. There was a feeling that, in an instance, I became disabled. My longing for my beloved had no limit. I was completely immersed in it, and I was “sealed” by depression. I did not want to eat nor drink. I was preparing to live without him. I kept contemplating how my life would develop in the future. Three days later, I got up and went to work. Work would save me, I thought. In fact, while in the office, I felt alive and stayed up late to distract myself. I had to adapt to existing without Kirilenko. Indeed, the whole situation felt very wrong: my betrayal, dating the younger guy. I had my own life filled with obligations to people, business partners, my own circle of friends, who in fact, were also friends with my

common-law husband. We  also had a magnificent apartment, in which    I had just made repairs. I was another man’s wife, after all. Civil wife. Yes, it all seemed wrong. This relationship with Kirilenko. I made him go   crazy and broke myself too. This was not good.

I am a disciplined person, so I decided not to whine about all that was occurring, and instead continued leading my “proper” life. So, I was sitting in my office, when they called me from the checkpoint and said: “You have a visitor.” The visitor was none other than my young lover. For some reason, he was wearing a suit.

– You know, I was in your area and decided to drop by. As I was going up the stairs, I was trying to prepare a speech about how we need to break up once and for all. But then… I saw you… and now I want to say something completely different. Will you marry me???

He was sitting on the couch across from me. In the blink of an eye, I jumped out of my seat and literally jumped on top of him. I kept kissing his face and screamed: “Yes! Yes!” Lord, why did it seem like I was raving about marriage.

From that moment on, our lives changed completely.  On the same day,    I came home to announce to my common-law husband that I was   leaving him. Our conversation was very light. Of course, we were very close. We have been together for about four years, and we faced many hurdles together, including my ectopic pregnancy. Most likely, we  burned out. To be honest, he also had a mistress on the side at that   time. Not even one. He released me with a calm heart. I didn’t even   start gathering my things — “I’ll send my mother, she’ll pack   everything.” I never returned to that apartment again. The apartment still stands, and my photographs still hang there. My ex’s relatives reside there now, and no one has ever taken pictures off the walls.