I needed to adapt to a new rhythm of life. I needed to explain everything to the children. After wandering around the empty house, I concluded that it would be best if I distracted myself with something, and a job, preferably one involving a lot of people, would be ideal for this.
And then I discovered that finding something worthwhile wasn’t so easy. Education and experience were required. My thirty-four years, unfinished master’s degree, and experience as a housewife didn’t help my job search at all.
“What?! Did you kick him out?” My best friend was either happy or indignant—her voice was practically ringing.
“You’d better advise me about a job.”
“That’s why you were gone for a whole week! I kept calling and calling, but no one answered. Why did you turn off your cell phone? And where were you anyway?” She wasn’t listening to me.
I didn’t tell her about how terrible I felt. And I did not want to talk to anyone at all.
“At a friend’s place outside the city. The phone was out of range,” I lied.
“And what are you going to do?”
“Aren’t you listening to me at all? I asked for your advice about a job!” Her chatter was starting to annoy me.
“Oh! Right. Try being a real estate agent. Our neighbors recently moved so I can ask them for their agent’s phone number. It’s also a good reason to go and get acquainted!”
God, she found a benefit for herself here, too,I thought, but the advice was sound nonetheless.
“Okay, give me the number.” I decided to try.
The very next day, I called Adelaide—that’s what the real estate agent was called. We arranged a meeting at her agency and agreed that she would take me on as an apprentice.
And so I was standing on the threshold of a small office in the city center. A young woman, about twenty-five, maybe twenty-seven years old, came out of the door to the next room—attractive, slender, dressed a little too brightly, with gorgeous chestnut hair down to the middle of her back, and, as if stumbling, stared at me.
Her expression was unreadable: astonishment? Surprise? Recognition? No, I’m sure I’ve never seen her before. Then what? I quickly checked myself—was everything alright? I thought there was something wrong with my clothes, makeup, or hairstyle. But then this woman seemed to come to her senses, smiled at me, and moved towards me.
“Hello, Elizabeth. You’re not at all like I imagined,” she was already close when it dawned on me—this was the real estate agent I was looking for.
“And what did you imagine me to be like?” I was curious to know how I looked from the outside.
“Well, not so captivatingly beautiful.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“You’re making me blush.” I was pleased by the compliment; it had been a long time since I’d heard flattering words about myself from other people.
In the last year, my husband and I had only gone out once—to some work event. And even then, I didn’t talk to anyone;Dominic wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Now I wondered, why? So that someone wouldn’t accidentally let slip about his mistress? They surely knew.
“That’s the truth. But let’s switch to using first names? We’re almost the same age, aren’t we? Do you mind?”
Waiting for my nod of agreement and taking my hand, Adelaide led me into the room she had just come out of.
“This is our workspace. There are computers here, and various announcements on the walls. Over there, behind the partition, is something like a kitchen.” I listened to Adelaide’s friendly voice and thought that I should have found something to do a long time ago. Then my husband wouldn’t have left. Or would he have left anyway? Nevertheless, I certainly wouldn’t have taken our breakup so hard. Work wouldn’t have allowed it.
* * * *
Every day brings something new: showings, viewings, calls with clients and agents, learning about the rules of conducting a transaction, legal intricacies, types and styles of houses, characteristics of different neighborhoods, and much more that I had absolutely no idea about before.
Adelaide always took me with her or accompanied me to my shows, and we quickly became friends. As she explained, it’s easiest to work in pairs, which is what we did. Quite quickly, I began to trust her and told her almost everything about myself.
She turned out to be a sensitive person: she listened attentively, remained tactfully silent, and was excellent at distracting me whenever I felt sad in her presence. Several times, I invited her to my place, as being alone at home was still difficult. Why didn’t I have such a friend before?
A month passed. Thoughts of my unfaithful husband visited me less and less often. We hadn’t seen each other again.He apparently took his things while I was at work. And thank God. I didn’t want to meet with him.
New experiences were slowly healing the wound in my heart. But at night, longing would overwhelm me. After all, before, even if only occasionally, my husband touched me. And now?
I wanted caresses, kisses, sex. But I couldn’t imagine another man next to me. Some split personality—I like it, but I’m afraid. And what should I do now?
