It was a day at the beginning of August. I was on holiday from my assignment place, the Moscow office of my employer. I wanted to have a good rest in those days, after my near complete collapse two months before.
My soap-opera dreams have gone, I could sleep well, I thought, the future was better than those hard months that had caused my stress, and nearly led to my doom.
I wanted to utilize my time well. My replacement, a girl, who did my duties during my absence, did not want to stay over the four weeks, she had been assigned there. I would have to fly back and sit in my chair, draw the levers of control for the operation of sophisticated mechanism that was called representative office of an international long haul company.
That day I had to visit my colleagues at home in Budapest. Leaving home I was asked by my wife about the address of an acquaintance. I told her to open my bag and look it up in my pocket diary and went my way.
Coming back hours later I found her agitated, her eyes bright – even there might have been traces of crying in them – and silent.
"What happened, dear?” I asked her, as her look I did not like.
"You rogue, are you asking it from me? You told me to look into your bag and look up that address.” She became more angry by every word of hers.
"Could you tell in plain what disturbs you?”
"You have logged down your every dirty minute in your diary. Your F. in your bed, her child and all. You have always been a womanizer, a Casanova. But to give your testimony into my hands is too much. I will not bear it. I leave you at last, after my sufferings, and let you have your lovers.”
Her eyes were fireballs, she was screaming these words.
I was surprised completely. I have never dreamt she had such ideas in her head, as my being a Casanova. Well, I liked women, I had always been keen to have their company, but I had my views about infidelity, and they had not been positive in any sense.
At the same time, I did not want to lose my wife, my family was the symbol of peace and safety for me. I tried to convince her to change her mind about leaving me.
"My dear, what you saw in my diary was a narrative of my dreams.” I tried to embrace her, but she tore herself from me.
"You are lying me again. And that F. in your diary, is it no woman?”
"That is the abbreviation for fairy. It was in my dreams, she had your voice and face.”
"How dirty you can be! You want to catch my belief by my vanity. Do you believe, I would be cheated so simply?”
My position seemed hopeless. Would it be Ivan the Great, my former classmate, who would be right?
She looked quite decided.
"I shall pack up my things, take a rented room for myself and denounce of my rights about everything we collected together. Have them and give them to your women and their children with you!”
I could only hope that her mind was to be changed by common sense arguments, and she would come with me to Moscow.