My husband had organized a feast at my expense and was bragging about it to my mother-in-law… until I walked into the room and ruined his party.

I hung up and didn’t think about him anymore.

The workshop is busy, there’s a queue of customers. Recently, I met Konstantin Mikhailovich, the director of a factory, who was ordering work clothes. We met casually, without any promises. He called me by my first name. Not « smile. »

Sometimes I think back to that evening at the « Tikhiy Don. » To the way I walked across the room, the way I looked at Pavel, the way I placed the envelope on the table. And I understand that it wasn’t an end. It was a beginning.

I ran into Marina at the supermarket recently. She turned her head away. I didn’t speak to her. What would be the point? We live in two different worlds.

Yesterday, Vassili came to the workshop, he sat down, we drank tea.

— So, Ekaterina, you have no regrets?

I looked out the window. Outside, it was spring, sunshine, life.

— Not for a second, Vassia.

He nodded.

– You’re right.

We should regret what we didn’t do. Not what we did do.

When he left, I went back to my work. I was sewing a wedding dress for a young woman who was beaming with happiness during the fitting. I looked at her and thought to myself: I hope that in twenty years she won’t have to have her card blocked and stand up in a restaurant to demand respect.

But it’s her life. Her choice.

And I have my own. And I like it.

The little gray mouse died that night at the « Tikhiy Don. » And I was born. The real one. The one who isn’t afraid to bite when cornered. The one who knows her worth. The one who will never again give away her card « just like that, » on her word alone.

Tomorrow morning, Konstantin Mikhailovich will come to pick up his order. We’ll drink tea, talk about fabrics and patterns. Perhaps he’ll invite me to dinner at his place again. Perhaps I’ll accept. Or perhaps I’ll say I’m busy—that I have an urgent order.

And that will be my decision. My own.

I’m no longer the one who silently cuts bread while staring at the floor. I’m the one who enters the room with her head held high. And that’s the best version of myself.