The phone rang about fifteen minutes after Jacek left. I picked it up. It was Renata. “Rafał, is everything okay?
” she asked. “Yeah. Why? ”
“No reason.
Just asking. ”
We talked about nothing for a while—what time she’d be home, whether I’d picked up the bouquet. Then she asked, “Do you have the watch on? ”
“No.
Jacek stopped by. He wanted to try it on and drove off with it for a bit. ”
The silence on her end was immediate. “What?
”
I pulled the phone away from my ear. “What do you mean, what? He’ll bring it back. ”
“Why would you give it to him, Rafał?
”
Her voice wasn’t annoyed. It was scared. “It’s just Jacek. He didn’t take it to Spain.
”
“The bracelet needs to be shortened. I was supposed to take it to the shop. ”
I hadn’t thought about that. It made sense.
But her panic didn’t match the explanation. “I’ll call him,” I said. “I’ll tell him to come back. ”
“No.
I’ll call him. ”
She said it too fast. Then she hung up. That evening she came home later than she’d said.
She didn’t have the watch with her. When I asked, she said Jacek had returned it, and she’d deal with it tomorrow. I reminded her about the restaurant—our anniversary dinner. She sighed.
“Rafał, I don’t have the energy tonight. Let’s reschedule. ”
“It’s our anniversary. ”
“I know.
Can we just do it another day? ”
I didn’t fight her. The bouquet stayed in the vase. The perfume I’d bought stayed at the bottom of the wardrobe.
I sat at the table alone and thought about the way her voice had cracked when I told her Jacek had the watch. And for the first time, I wondered if there was something about that watch I didn’t know. The next morning, Renata acted like nothing had happened. She stood at the kitchen counter in her robe, stirring her coffee, scrolling through her phone.
I opened the fridge, hesitated, then asked anyway. “What about the watch? ”
“What about it? ”
“My watch.
Jacek gave it back to you. ”
“He did. I’m taking it to the shop today to get the bracelet shortened. ” She said it so calmly that I felt stupid for worrying the night before.
I left it at that. For hours, I was busy enough at work to push the thought aside. Around noon she texted: The watch is at the shop. I replied: Good.
And that should have been the end of it. But something wouldn’t let it go. Not the watch itself—the tone of her voice. The speed with which she’d said she would call Jacek.
The way she’d avoided dinner. Small things. But small things are exactly what you build whole stories out of. That evening I got home before her.
Her phone was lying on the dresser next to her handbag. She was in the bathroom; I could hear the water running. I didn’t touch her phone. I never had.
But the screen lit up on its own. One message from someone saved as “Paweł”: Don’t worry, I’ll wait. I stared at it for maybe two seconds before it went dark. Paweł.
I didn’t know any Paweł, but that didn’t have to mean anything. She knew plenty of people—clients, friends, people from years ago. Wait for what? Documents, an answer, a meeting?
It could have meant anything. Then she came out of the bathroom. Her eyes went straight to the phone. She picked it up.
“You’re home early. ”
“Just got back. ”
She unlocked the screen and read something quickly. I said nothing.
I didn’t ask about Paweł. Not yet. But after that, I started noticing things I’d probably been walking past for a long time. Renata would be sitting on the couch, get a message, and smile to herself.
When I walked in, the screen went dark. “What’s so funny? ” I asked. “Nothing.
Just something funny. ”
Then the phone would ring, she’d look at the screen, and leave the room to take the call. Once, through the crack in the door, I heard her say, “Not now. ” Then, quieter, “I said no.
”
“Who was that? ” I asked when she came back. “Work. ”
It was a normal answer.
But why leave the room for work? The pattern repeated the next day. Phone, hallway, short conversation. Then I called Jacek.
He picked up after a few rings. “I have a question. ”
“Shoot. ”
“Why did Renata react the way she did about the watch?
”
Silence. “What do you mean? ”
“Don’t play dumb. You saw her.
I told her you drove off with it and she panicked. ”
“Rafał, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ask Renata. ”
“I’m asking you.
”
“And I’m telling you I don’t know. ”
He paused too long before answering. I could hear it. “Jacek.
Do you know something? ”
He let out a breath. “Seriously, man. Don’t go looking for problems where there aren’t any.
”
Then he hung up. If he’d really known nothing, he’d have said, “I don’t know,” without all that caution. Without the change in his voice. Without running away from the conversation.
Two days passed, and the watch never came back. The first day I didn’t ask. I told myself shortening a bracelet takes time. Maybe the shop was busy.
Maybe Renata hadn’t had a chance to pick it up. The second morning at breakfast, I asked when it would be ready. She looked up from her phone. “What?
”
“The watch. ”
She sighed. “Rafał, I’ll tell you when it’s ready. ”
“I’m just asking.
”
She spoke to me like I’d been nagging her for half an hour. I’d asked once. “You gave it to me yourself. I thought you’d know when you’d pick it up.
”
“They’ll call from the shop. ”
She stood up, took her cup to the dishwasher, and ended the conversation. But that’s when it really started, because something didn’t fit. A few days earlier she’d taken photos of me wearing that watch.
She’d fixed the bracelet on my wrist, said it needed to be adjusted properly. Now she was acting like I’d asked about a gas bill. That same day, she came home late. Just a text: Still have some work.
Normally I wouldn’t have thought twice. This time I looked at the clock, then at the phone, then at the clock again. She came through the door smiling at her screen. “Hi!
” I said. She flinched. “Hi. ”
The screen went dark instantly.
“You worked late. ”
“I told you. ”
She walked past me. A moment later, her phone lit up again.
I wasn’t trying to look. I really wasn’t. But I saw the name. Paweł.
The same one from before. She grabbed the phone like it was burning. That night I lay awake next to her, staring at the ceiling. One name kept circling in my head.
Paweł. Who was he? A client? A friend?
Someone from her past? Or exactly what I was afraid to think? I tried to calm myself down. I had nothing.
One message, a few late nights, a phone turned face-down. All of it could have had a normal explanation. But Jacek’s behavior didn’t fit. The way he’d looked at the watch.
The way he’d left with it. The way he’d refused to talk to me after. The next day after work, I drove to his place without calling. He opened the door in sweatpants, clearly surprised.
“Rafał. What are you doing here? ”
“Can we talk? ”
He let me in.
I didn’t want coffee or small talk. I stood in his living room and said, “Jacek. Is Renata seeing someone? ”
He froze.
And that was enough to make my heart hammer in my chest. “What are you talking about? ”
“Tell me. Yes or no.
”
He looked at me for a long time. Then he looked away. And I already knew the answer. He ran a hand over his face.
“I don’t want to get involved in this. ”
“You’re already involved. ”
“It’s not that simple. ”
“It is for me.
My wife. My marriage. One question. ”
He was silent.
I felt cold spread through me. “So I’m right. ”
He didn’t deny it. He walked over to the window and stood there for a moment.
Then he said, “Tomorrow around seven thirty, drive to Partynice. ”
“Why? ”
“You’ll see. ”
“See what?
Jacek, damn it, am I right? ”
He finally looked at me. All the usual swagger was gone. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you about her.
”
That was enough. I didn’t ask anything else. I left. I sat in my car with my hands on the wheel for a few minutes, staring at nothing.
Until that moment I’d had suspicions. Now, for the first time, I was genuinely afraid of what I was about to see. The next day I went through the motions at work. I talked to people, signed papers, even joked with a colleague over coffee.
But all I could think about was what Jacek said. A part of me wanted to just not go. Suspicion, you can drown out. You can tell yourself you’re overthinking it, that there’s a reasonable explanation.
Certainty doesn’t leave you anything. After work, I drove to Partynice. I got there early. Jacek had mentioned a restaurant near a large parking area.
I didn’t park in front. I pulled into a side section of the lot, between other cars, where I could see the entrance and the walkway but wasn’t easily seen myself. Then I turned off the engine and waited. That was the worst part—the waiting.
Watching couples arrive, families, normal people going to dinner while I sat in a car spying on my own wife. At a few minutes past six, a man pulled up. Dark car, nothing special. He got out, looked around, but didn’t go inside.
Maybe a little over fifty. Well dressed, unhurried. He checked his phone, then scanned the parking lot again. I didn’t know yet if it was him.
He could have been anyone. He waited. Walked slowly along the pavement. Checked his phone again.
And then I saw Renata’s car. My heart slammed up into my throat. She pulled into the lot and stopped near the restaurant. She couldn’t see me.
She sat in the car for a moment, then got out. The man straightened up. He didn’t wave. He didn’t call out.
He just started walking toward her, and she walked straight to him. Even then, I think I held onto some idiotic hope. That they’d shake hands, that he’d take out a folder, that it would be a work meeting and I’d go home furious at Jacek for making me look like a fool. Nothing like that happened.
Renata stopped close in front of him. He said something I couldn’t hear. She smiled. Not politely.
Not the smile you give a client. I knew that smile. She used to smile at me that way. He touched her shoulder lightly.
She didn’t pull away. They started walking toward the restaurant, but a few steps later they turned and walked along the pathway. Slowly. Talking.
At one point, he put his hand on her back. Not to guide her past someone—just rested it there, comfortably, the way you do with someone you’ve touched many times before. And Renata turned her head toward him, said something, then slipped her hand under his arm. I went hot.
I sat completely still. I could have gotten out. I could have walked over and asked, “Renata, what are you doing? ” I did nothing.
I just watched. They stopped near the path. They spoke very close together. He leaned toward her.
They didn’t kiss. They didn’t need to. I remembered the message: Don’t worry, I’ll wait. I looked at him.
He was literally waiting for her. I still didn’t know his name. I didn’t know how long it had been going on. I didn’t know if the watch had anything to do with him.
But I knew one thing for certain. Renata was lying to me. I watched for another moment. Then I started the engine.
I didn’t want to see any more. I didn’t want to wait until they kissed so I could tell myself, “Now you have the right to feel betrayed. ” I’d seen enough. I drove out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to draw attention.
In the mirror, I caught one last glimpse of Renata standing next to that man. Then they vanished from sight. I didn’t call Jacek. There was no point.
He’d given me a place and a time. I’d seen the rest myself. Driving home through Wrocław, for the first time in years I wasn’t thinking about what Renata would say. I was thinking about how many times I’d looked at her and not seen what was right in front of me.
The house was too quiet. I walked in, dropped my keys on the dresser, and stood in the hallway for a few seconds. In the morning, this place had still felt like something fixed. Not warm, maybe.
But fixed. Now everything looked exactly the same, and I felt like I’d come back to a stranger’s house. I didn’t turn on the big light. I sat in the living room and waited.
I don’t know how long it was—half an hour, maybe more. My phone sat on the table. I never touched it once. I wanted to see her face when she walked in.
She came home late. I heard the car in the driveway, the door, her footsteps. She walked into the living room and stopped when she saw me. “You’re still up.
”
“No. ”
She took off her coat. Put her bag on a chair. “Something wrong?
”
I looked at her. A few hours ago, I’d watched her with that man. Watched her smile at him, walk beside him, let him touch her. And now she stood in front of me asking if something was wrong.
“I was at Partynice today. ”
She froze. Just for a second. Then she tried to slide back into a normal tone.
“Partynice? Why? ”
“You know why. ”
She frowned.
“Rafał, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. ”
I felt something strange—not anger. Fatigue. “I saw you with him.
”
Her face went pale. She looked away. “With who? ”
“You really want to go down this path right now?
Who? ”
She walked to the table but didn’t sit. “An acquaintance. ”
“An acquaintance.
”
“Yes. ”
“What kind of acquaintance? ”
“We’ve known each other for a while. ”
“That I saw.
”
She looked at me sharply. “What is that supposed to mean? ”
“Acquaintances don’t touch each other that way. ”
Silence.
She crossed her arms. “You saw a piece of the situation and you’re filling in the rest yourself. ”
“What am I filling in, Renata? I’m filling in that a man waiting for my wife in the evening, putting his hand on her waist, while she takes his arm—that’s not an ordinary acquaintance.
”
“He didn’t put his hand on my waist. ”
“I saw him. That’s what he did. ”
She turned her head.
“It’s not what it looks like. ”
“What does it look like? ”
“It’s complicated. ”
“No.
It looks very simple. ”
She pressed her lips together. “Don’t make a scene. ”
That word hit me harder than it should have.
A scene. I wasn’t even raising my voice. “I’m not going to make a scene. Tell me who he is.
”
“I told you. An acquaintance. ”
“You meet like this sometimes? ”
A pause.
“Sometimes. ”
“How long? ”
“Rafał, you’re overreacting. ”
“How long?
”
She sighed. “I won’t talk to you if you interrogate me. ”
“I just want to know if my wife has someone. ”
Renata closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she said, “Paweł has nothing to do with this. ”
I went very still. “Paweł? ”
Her eyes flew open and I saw her realize what she’d said.
“So it’s Paweł. ”
Silence. “The same Paweł who texts you? The one who said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll wait’?
”
Her face hardened. “You read my messages? ”
“I didn’t have to. The phone was on the dresser.
”
“That’s sick. ”
“Don’t change the subject. How long? ”
“You’re following me.
You’re looking through my phone. ”
“I didn’t follow you. How long, Renata? ”
She didn’t answer.
Then she finally sat down at the table. She suddenly looked tired. “Rafał. Don’t make us do this now.
”
“How long? ”
“It didn’t start the way you think. ”
“I didn’t ask how it started. ”
She clenched her hands.
“A few months. ”
Something in me sank. Not broke—sank. Like all the tension of the last few days had finally collapsed.
“A few months,” I repeated. “Yes. ”
“Are you together? ”
“I don’t know.
”
I let out a quiet laugh. “You don’t know? ”
“It’s not that simple. ”
“It’s starting to get simple for me.
”
She looked down. And then something clicked in my head. Not Partynice. Not Paweł.
The watch. Her panic. Jacek. The shop.
The bracelet. “What about the watch? ” I asked. She froze.
I could see it—the shift in her face. She’d been trying to talk about Paweł like it could still be softened, like the right words could make months of seeing another man sound less bad. But when I said “watch,” she shut down. “What watch?
”
“You know. The one I supposedly got for our anniversary. ”
She looked away. “I told you.
It was too loose. ”
“I’m not asking about the bracelet. I’m asking why you panicked when Jacek took it. ”
“I didn’t panic.
I was annoyed. ”
“Why? ”
“Because it’s expensive. Jacek takes things without asking.
You know that. ”
“That’s true. ” I moved a little closer but kept my distance. “But you weren’t angry at Jacek.
You were terrified that the watch was with him. ”
“You’re making this up. ”
“I’m not. And another thing.
” I shook my head. “Every time I ask about that watch, you react like you want me to forget it exists. ”
“Because you’re harassing me. Over my own gift.
”
She didn’t answer. I looked at her, and suddenly I knew the answer. I just didn’t want to say it out loud. “It wasn’t for me, was it?
”
Renata lowered her eyes. My heart started pounding. “Renata. ”
Silence.
“It was for Paweł. ”
She raised her head. For a second she looked straight at me. Then she said, very quietly: “Yes.
”
I didn’t know what I’d expected. Maybe more pain. Maybe anger. Instead I just stood there looking at her.
“So that watch was for him. ”
“For his birthday. ”
I let out a short, empty laugh. “For his birthday.
”
“Rafał, wait. ”
I held up a hand. I needed to sort this out. “You bought him a watch?
”
“Yes. ”
“You brought it home to hide it. And I found it. ”
“Yes.
”
“And I asked if it was for me. ”
She said nothing. “Do you remember? You said, ‘Yes, it’s for you.
’”
She pressed her lips together. “You panicked,” I said. “I panicked. ”
“You could have told the truth.
”
“I couldn’t. ”
“You absolutely could have. ”
I sat back down. Suddenly I remembered everything about that morning.
How she handed me the box. How she made me try it on. How she adjusted the bracelet. How she took my photo.
How she kissed my cheek. “God. And then you tried to get it back from me. ”
She was silent.
“The bracelet wasn’t too loose, Renata. That was just the excuse. ”
For a long time, she didn’t say anything. Then she shook her head.
“What were you going to do? ” I asked. “Tell you it needed adjusting. Then… I don’t know.
”
“You were going to get it back and give it to Paweł. ”
“Yes. ”
Then I remembered Jacek. The way he’d looked at the watch on my wrist.
How quickly he’d asked to try it. How he insisted on leaving with it. “Jacek knew. ”
She nodded.
“Of course he knew. That’s why he took it. He wasn’t trying it on the way. He was trying to stop you.
”
“Yes. ”
“That’s why you screamed at me on the phone. Because you were furious he ruined your plan. ”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to. “What happened then? ”
“I called him. We met.
He gave it back to me. ”
“To you. ”
“Yes. ”
“And you told me it was at the shop.
”
She lowered her head. “Yes. ”
I stared at her. “So all those days, it wasn’t at any shop.
”
“No. ”
“Where is it now? ”
“I have it. ”
“Great.
Do whatever you want with it. Give it back. Sell it. Give it to Paweł.
I don’t care anymore. ”
“I won’t give it to him. ”
“I don’t care about that either. ”
She looked at me like she was only then starting to understand that I wasn’t going to fight for the watch.
Or for her. “What now? ” she asked quietly. That was the first honest question she’d asked me all day.
“Now? ” I said. “I’m going to start looking for an apartment tomorrow. ”
Her face changed.
“You want to move out? ”
“Yes. ”
“Don’t make a decision like this right now. ”
“I’m not making the decision now.
I’ve been letting every other person in this house make decisions for me for years. You. Bożena. Jacek.
I just nodded along. Now, for the first time in a long time, I’m deciding something for myself. ”
“Can we talk in a few days? ”
“We’re talking now.
”
“Can we fix this? ”
“Fix what, Renata? ”
She didn’t answer. “The part with Paweł?
The part with us? ”
I laughed, not mocking—just tired. “Renata, I’ve been trying to fix ‘us’ for years. I’m not putting this all on you.
I failed too. I stayed silent too long. I let everyone tell me what to do in my own home. ” I shook my head.
“Paweł is just what made me stop pretending an ‘us’ still exists. ”
I went upstairs. I opened the wardrobe. At the very bottom, under the sweaters, was the box with the perfume.
I took it out. I held it for a moment. A few days ago, I’d imagined Renata opening it at dinner. Now I didn’t even want to give it to her.
I put the box in my bag. Not out of spite. There was just no one left for it. When I came back downstairs, she was still sitting at the table.
I didn’t say anything. That evening, I understood one thing. I hadn’t lost a watch. It had never been mine.
I’d only lost the illusion that, that morning, someone had really chosen me. And for the first time in years, I wasn’t going to wait for someone else to choose me. This time, I chose myself.
