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The Third Hospital of Vladivostok served not only as a civilian facility but also as the logistical hospital for the Soviet Air Force and Air Defense Command. Tucked behind its main complex stood a blocky residential wing—an aging but well-maintained tube building where hospital staff lived.
Guided by little Ivan, Andrei stepped out of the taxi and helped a drowsy Ekaterina up the stairs and into her quarters. The apartment was modest but tidy—one bedroom, one living area, sparsely decorated and clean.
He gently laid her on the bed. Her breathing was slow and steady—already fast asleep from the wine.
Her blue-and-white plaid dress clung damply to her back, and she looked clearly uncomfortable. Andrei turned to Ivan. "Ivan, why don't you help your mother take off her dress? She'll sleep better that way."
The boy frowned and shook his head. "I'm not strong enough, Uncle Andrei. Can you help me?"
Andrei hesitated, alarm bells ringing in his head. The idea of helping undress a woman—especially one he had only just gotten to know—felt entirely inappropriate. Even with Ivan's innocent presence as a witness, it didn't sit right.
Just as he was about to find a polite excuse to leave, footsteps echoed outside the door.
Startled, Andrei whispered, "Ivan… is your father back?"
A woman's voice answered from the hallway. "Doctor Ekaterina? Are you home?"
Relieved, Andrei stepped into the living room and opened the door. A tall young woman stood outside—Ekaterina's colleague from the hospital, whom Andrei recognized instantly. She had been present earlier that day, teasing Ekaterina while Andrei insisted on his discharge.
"Comrade Captain?" the woman said, surprised. "You're here too?"
"Yes," Andrei replied calmly. "We went out for dinner, had a drink or two. Ekaterina felt dizzy, so I brought her back. She's sleeping now, but still in her dress. If you could help her get more comfortable, I'd appreciate it. I was just leaving."
He turned to go but felt a small tug on his sleeve. Ivan didn't want him to leave just yet.
Andrei ended up staying in the living room, entertaining the boy with toy airplanes. Time slipped away, and without realizing it, he drifted off on the couch.
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The night breeze slipped in through a cracked window. The silk curtain swayed gently. In the bedroom, Ekaterina stirred.
She groaned softly, reaching for the nightstand. Her fingers found the switch. The bedside lamp flickered on, casting a warm glow.
She reached for a tin cup beside her bed. To her surprise, it still held water. She sat up slowly, took a sip, then lowered it.
That's when she noticed something strange.
The blanket had slipped off her shoulders. Her dress was gone. Her skin was bare beneath the covers. Her bra too.
She looked to the chair beside the bed—her dress, neatly folded.
Panic flickered in her chest.
I fell asleep after dinner... Andre brought me home... and then...
Her eyes widened. Did he…?
Still groggy but now burning with alarm, she threw on a thin silk nightgown and stormed out of the bedroom.
"Ivan! Get up!" she barked, voice sharp.
She stepped into the living room and froze. Ivan was curled up on the cot, sleeping peacefully, clutching a model airplane. Across from him, sprawled on the couch, was Andrei—half-asleep, holding a screwdriver mid-repair.
"Captain Andrei!" she snapped.
Andrei jolted upright, still dazed. "What's wrong?"
"How could you—how dare you peek at my body!"
Andrei blinked. "What?"
"You took off my clothes!"
"I didn't—wait, what?"
"You undressed me! Who else could have done it? Ivan's too little!"
Her voice rose with each word, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fury. Her silk pajamas—nearly transparent—left little to the imagination, but she didn't even seem to notice.
Andrei stood awkwardly. "Look, I swear I didn't touch you. I helped you home, Ivan said he wasn't strong enough, so I was going to leave. Then your colleague arrived, and I asked her to help instead. She's the one who—"
"Lies!" Ekaterina shouted. "You think I don't remember? My bra was unclasped!"
Before Andrei could defend himself further, a sleepy voice chimed in from the cot.
"It was Aunt Diana," Ivan mumbled, eyes still half-closed. "Uncle Andrei played airplanes with me. She helped Mommy."
Ekaterina went silent.
She turned to her son, whose innocent eyes blinked up at her. "You're sure?"
He nodded. "She said you'd sleep better without that tight dress."
Ekaterina's anger drained from her face. Her voice softened with realization. "Oh…"
Andrei, still standing awkwardly, ran a hand through his hair. "I told you."
She looked at him—really looked at him—and finally noticed how startled, confused, and genuinely concerned he appeared.
A long pause followed.
Then, awkwardly, she muttered, "You can sleep on the couch. If Ivan's okay with it."
Andrei glanced at Ivan, who yawned and nodded.
"Thanks," he said softly.
Ekaterina turned and padded back into the bedroom, cheeks still flushed, but no longer from anger.
She paused at the doorway. "And Captain?"
"Yes?"
"…Thank you. For everything today."
The door closed behind her with a gentle click.
Andrei exhaled and flopped back onto the couch.
What a night.
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