Masa rented two apartments because she believed friendship needed both shared dinners and separate bathrooms. Her recently divorced best friend Sonja traveled with her and her husband Aleks. On the first day they bought too many tomatoes, lost the way to the beach, and laughed at everything that would not have earned even a smile at home.
On the third evening Sonja spilled wine on the balcony. Aleks immediately said, "The red cloud again." They both burst out laughing. Masa asked what it meant. Sonja explained they had once heard it in a film. Aleks said an advertisement. A small pause followed, short enough for everyone to ignore, long enough for Masa to stop hearing the sea.
She did not question them at the table. The next day she went for bread early and returned without it because the bakery was closed. In the hallway she heard Sonja say, "I can't do another three days." Aleks replied that now was not the time. Masa remained outside the door holding her empty cloth bag. She did not need the whole sentence to understand they meant her.
She entered and asked how long. Aleks looked down. Sonja said it had happened during winter when Masa was away for work. That word, happened, made everything almost accidental. Masa asked them to use verbs with people actually doing things. Then they admitted meetings, messages, evenings in her kitchen when she believed they were helping Sonja through her divorce.
Aleks suggested finishing the trip peacefully and talking at home. Masa looked at the tomatoes in the bowl and felt a strange anger at their perfect red color. She did not want to perform for another three days. She called the apartment owner, explained the change of plans, and arranged separate bills. Sonja left on the first bus. Aleks packed their things, but Masa told him to leave hers.
She stayed two more nights alone. She cried in the mornings, swam in the afternoons, and once ate only ice cream for dinner because she could not bear a restaurant for three. The owner asked no questions. She brought clean bedding and showed her where to leave the key. That practical kindness was the only kind she could accept then.
At home came difficult conversations and a separation. She did not resume her friendship with Sonja. A year later she returned to the same place with her sister. On the balcony her sister spilled juice and began apologizing. Masa rose to fetch a cloth without the sudden collapse she had expected. She could hear the sea clearly. They wiped the table, brought another glass, and continued a conversation belonging only to them.