All Amazing Babies

Vera looked at Alexei in disbelief, unable to believe her ears. “Lyosha, don’t you understand that you’re making a huge mistake?” Alexei dismissed her, showing his impatience. “Let’s skip the drama. I’m just tired of your constant dissatisfaction. It’s the same thing every day. Milana is completely different. She’s like a breath of fresh air to me. And you… I think I’ve been too lenient with you, allowing time to pack your things and find housing. You do realize that you have no right to demand anything? You’ve never worked, so my money doesn’t belong to you.” “Lyosha, but it was you who forbade me from working. You said that for a wife of someone of your status, work is considered an unacceptable luxury.” “Yes, I did say that when you were my wife. But now Milana will take your place, so you’ll have the opportunity to earn your own living.”

Vera recalled all these words while standing in the cemetery in front of a new grave. Alexei’s happiness with his new chosen one was short-lived—just three years. She knew the last year of their marriage for sure: it was full of suffering. Alexei’s illness also raised many questions.

He suspected Milana of adding something to his food or drinks. He even started his own investigation and shared it with Vera, but never finished it…

A month before his demise, Alexei visited her, asking for forgiveness. He talked about his life, looked ill, and her heart ached from his suffering. Now, standing in the cemetery, Vera turned her gaze to the elegant Milana with a dark veil on her face, supported by a young companion.

She heard the whispers of those present at the funeral, condemning Milana for her insensitivity. Vera decided: the investigation must be continued. Although Alexei betrayed her, she still loved him. Yes, he acted like the worst scoundrel, but he didn’t deserve such a death. Vera sighed and headed for the exit. At the gate, Milana called out to her.

 

“I hope you understand that you won’t get anything from my husband’s inheritance,” she said in an icy tone. Her face twisted with malice, though Vera gave no reason for such suspicions. They stood silent for a few seconds, like two combatants ready to fight. Then Vera turned and left, hearing behind her: “Don’t even try to get anything!”

Alexei was treated at a clinic chosen by Milana, but Vera knew: that was only part of the story. It turns out he was secretly observed elsewhere, about which almost no one knew. All the details were kept secret, and it seemed he feared it would be revealed.

“Hello? Vera Nikolaevna, you need to be present at the will reading.” “The will?” Vera smiled bitterly. “Did my ex really leave me something?” “I’m sorry, Vera Nikolaevna, but I can’t discuss the contents over the phone. Can you come?” “Of course, I will,” she replied.

Vera smiled: she didn’t need his money, but she was curious to see Milana’s reaction at the will reading.

Milana was in a great mood, accompanied by the same young man who smugly smiled as he met Vera’s gaze. As expected, all the property, including real estate, went to Milana. However, at the end, the notary announced an additional item—a house in a remote village located a hundred kilometers from the city.

Milana laughed loudly: “Old wife—old junk! But don’t worry, Verochka, I won’t take that shack from you. You have nowhere to live, you’re a renter. Now you have your ‘apartments’!”

Vera remained silent, took the documents, and left the office. “The start of a little adventure,” she thought, looking at the address.

She had a day off over the weekend and decided to go there right now, wondering why Alexei owned a house in such a forgotten corner.

The trip took nearly three hours. She got lost twice and began to get annoyed: “How can the roads be so poorly marked? No signs, no proper turns.”

Finally, she saw the needed sign: “Finally!”

The village was strange: just a few kilometers back, there were signs of civilization, but now—old wooden houses, many of which had long been abandoned. “I wonder which one is now mine?” Vera thought, checking against a photograph. The house was at the very end of the village. She sighed—at the road here was just trampled grass and tire tracks.

Vera slowly made her way along the overgrown grassy road, her car bouncing on roots and bumps. Stopping in front of the house, she sat in the car for a while, surveying the area. The building looked abandoned, except for the flattened grass at the porch—it seemed someone regularly walked here. And the tire tracks at the gate indicated that cars sometimes came here.

“Did Lyosha leave me a house with tenants?” she wondered. Turning off the engine, Vera resolutely got out of the car and headed to the gate, which emitted a piercing squeak. She even flinched at the sudden sound. Climbing the porch, she found the door unlocked. Smirking to herself—”of course, it’s just a village”—she entered. The assumption that locals could come here and take anything valuable seemed logical.

However, when she pulled the door and stepped over the threshold, surprise enveloped her completely: the air was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. This scent in an abandoned house seemed utterly impossible. She scanned the room: inside it was clean and cozy, a laptop sat on the table. The house was clearly inhabited.

“Don’t be afraid,” a familiar voice sounded.

Vera turned sharply, but only darkness met her eyes before everything around disappeared.

“Vera, wake up! Sorry to scare you like that, but I had no other choice.”

She struggled to open her eyes. In front of her sat Alexei, and Vera herself was lying on the sofa. She reached out, cautiously touching him—he was alive, warm. His appearance had noticeably improved compared to their last meeting.

“Lyosha… am I dead?” she whispered. He smiled gently: “Of course not. Nobody died.” “Then whose funeral did we just have?” she asked, shocked. Alexei shrugged: “A mannequin. A very expensive and high-quality one.”

Vera shook her head, trying to comprehend what was happening: “I don’t understand. What’s going on here?”

Alexei leaned back in the chair and began to explain. Vera already guessed much of it. Milana’s lover returned from India, where, according to Alexei, he acquired a slow-acting poison. It was the doctor chosen by Milana who began to gradually poison him.

At first, Alexei didn’t even suspect that something was wrong. Suspicions only appeared after much of his property had been transferred to Milana.

“You see, I needed to do something to stop this,” he continued. “I talked to Misha, remember his clinic on Vasilyevsky? We decided that I needed to ‘die’. The risk was—Milana might decide to use the last dose of poison earlier. But everything worked out as best as it could. Now only a few details are left. And I realize I hurt you deeply, but you’re the only one who can help me.

They talked until late at night. Alexei detailed his plan, and Vera immediately agreed. How could she refuse, looking at her living husband, whom she mourned every night?

They spent that night together. Vera approached him, and he silently buried his nose in her hair. The only thing he said: “Sorry.”

In the morning, Alexei was preparing to leave. Holding his hand, she quietly replied: “I forgive you.”

Vera watched with light irony as Milana’s face turned red with anger: “What new will? This is complete nonsense! What gifts? Everything already belongs to me!” “There are reasons to believe that Alexei was given some drugs. Otherwise, how to explain that he transferred property to you that had previously been gifted to other people?” Vera calmly explained. Milana jumped up, outraged: “What drugs?! This is all mine, and I intend to sell it tomorrow!” The notary coughed: “Sorry, but the sale will have to be suspended. The situation requires detailed investigation, so all documentation is temporarily frozen.”

Milana threw a malicious glance at Vera: “You will pay very dearly for this, and very soon!” she hissed, grabbing her lover by the hand. “Shall we talk?” “Of course, let’s talk,” Vera replied unperturbed. Milana continued with a smirk: “Do you think I’ll give you something? You’re mistaken. I’ve invested a lot of time in your Alexei. You’ll end up where he is now.” “Are you going to slowly poison me like him?” Vera smirked. Milana looked at her attentively: “You’re smarter than I thought. Yes, I poisoned Alexei slowly to capture as much as possible. But with you, it will be different. The quicker you disappear, the better for me. There are poisons in India that act instantly and leave no trace. Our doctors will never detect them.” She laughed loudly, but suddenly Alexei appeared in the room. When Milana’s lover approached Vera, Alexei quickly struck him, knocking him out. Milana screamed in horror, seeing the person she thought was dead, and tried to flee. However, she was immediately surrounded by people in uniform.

Vera began to tremble with excitement, and Alexei gently took her hand: “Thank you. But we have one unfinished business.”

They headed back to the notary. Judging by the reaction, he was aware of all events and was not at all surprised. Alexei transferred half of his property to Vera, then stood up and quietly said: “Forgive me. It’s the least I could do for you. Perhaps I’ll move to the village. I don’t want to be in your sight.”

Vera aimlessly wandered around the apartment. “Why?” she pondered. It seemed she should be happy: Alexei was alive, she was now rich and completely independent. But inside, there was only emptiness. Something was clearly wrong. And suddenly it dawned on her: she needed Alexei—her Lyosha. Despite the pain, she continued to love him.

Vera hastily left the house, got into the car, and abruptly drove off. Now her path was clear—she knew what she had to do. Driving into the village, she noticed the first lights appearing in the windows of the nearby houses. Stopping on a small hill, she took several deep breaths to calm down. Her gaze fell on Alexei’s house window, where a soft glow had just lit up.

“Perfect. Everything is going exactly as it should,” she whispered to herself.

A few minutes later, she parked at the gate, turned off the engine, and slowly got out of the car. Each of her movements seemed mechanical, as if the body acted on its own, while the mind still hesitated. A thought suddenly flashed through her mind: “What if he no longer wants me? If his feelings for me have changed?”

But she quickly dismissed these doubts, deciding that now everything would become clear. Opening the gate, she saw Alexei already descending the porch steps to meet her. His eyes attentively studied her face.

“Are you sure? I’ve caused you great pain. Such things are not forgiven,” he said seriously. “Yes, you’re right, it’s hard to forgive,” Vera replied. “But I’m ready to try. We can both give it a chance.” Alexei hugged her tightly and sighed quietly: “It seems I needed to go through all this to understand how deeply I love you. To realize that I can’t live without you. If you can find a place in your heart to forgive, I promise: I’ll never hurt you again.”

Vera also sighed, looking him straight in the eye: “Lyosha, let’s try to forget everything that happened. Let’s start over. We’re still young—only forty years old. We have the opportunity to start a new chapter in our lives.”

Three months later, the trial of Milana and her accomplice took place. Vera couldn’t attend—she suddenly felt ill. Alexei was in a state of extreme anxiety, and as soon as the sentence began to be read, he immediately rushed home. Vera greeted him with a special, glowing smile.

“Vera, how are you feeling?” “Not ‘I’, but ‘we’,” she replied with a mysterious smile. “We? What do you mean? Did someone come?” “Not yet, but someone will definitely appear in seven months.”

Alexei stared at her face for a long time, trying to understand what he heard, then, astonished, asked: “Is it true? Are you not joking?”

“No, dear. This is the absolute truth.”

Alexei, not believing his fortune, lifted her in the air, as if she were weightless. Finally putting her down, he said: “You know, every day with you becomes more beautiful. I thought I had reached the peak of happiness, but now I realize I was wrong. Life with you is an endless source of joy.”

What did you say?” Anna froze, feeling a chill inside. Sergey stood by the door, tightly clutching a bunch of keys. His normally lively face had frozen into a mask of irritation.

“I can’t live like this anymore,” he repeated in a tone devoid of emotion. “Neither can I, nor mom. Pack up the kids and move to Lipovka. Grandma’s house is still standing, the roof intact. You’ll survive somehow.”

Anna looked at him as if he were a stranger. Ten years of life together, three children—and such a verdict. A dying village, where only a few houses remained, with no shops and even decent roads.

“Why…” she began, but she was interrupted.

“Because I’m tired,” Sergey looked away. “Of the constant reproaches, of the endless whining, of you just sitting at home with the kids. Mom is right: you’ve become a hen. I don’t recognize the woman I once married.”

Tears welled up in her throat, but Anna held them back. The children were sleeping behind the wall—Masha and Alyosha, and the eldest, Kirill, probably heard everything.

“Where will I work? What will we live on?” her voice was barely audible. Sergey threw an envelope on the table.

“There’s some money for the first time. And the house documents—it’s been in your name for a long time. If you’re so independent, prove it now.”

He turned around and, without uttering another word, left the room. A minute later, the front door slammed.

Anna slowly sank into a chair. One nonsensical memory spun in her head: “I baked his favorite apple pie. For breakfast.”

The house greeted them with a musty cold. Anna entered, holding sleepy Masha in her arms, and felt her heart squeeze. Her childhood had passed here—summer visits to her grandmother, the smell of fresh bread, herbs in the attic, apples in the cellar. Now it was just dust, cobwebs, and a taste of abandonment.

Kirill, serious beyond his years, went inside and flung open the shutters. Through the dirty windows, rays of April sun broke through, illuminating the dust motes in the air.

“It’s cold here,” complained Alyosha, wrapping his arms around himself. “We’ll light the stove soon, it will get warmer,” Anna tried to sound confident. “Kirill, will you help mom?” The boy nodded, not looking at her. He had been silent all the way since he heard the last conversation of his parents.

Fortunately, the old stove was in working order. As the flames began to lick the birch logs and the room filled with warmth, Anna felt a little more relaxed.

“Mom, are we staying here long?” Alyosha asked, examining old photographs on the wall. “I don’t know, baby,” she honestly replied. “Let’s settle in, then we’ll decide.”

They spent the first night all together in grandma’s wide bed. The children quickly fell asleep, exhausted by the move. And Anna lay awake, staring at the ceiling, pondering what had brought her to such a fate.

In the morning, freeing herself from the embrace of the sleeping children, she went out into the yard. The plot was overgrown with weeds. The apple trees, once bearing rich harvests, now stood gnarled, with broken branches. The old barn was leaning, and the well was covered with moss.

Anna surveyed her new domain and, unexpectedly for herself, laughed bitterly, desperately. Here it was, her inheritance. Her new beginning.

The first days in the village seemed like an endless nightmare. Each morning she woke up hoping to find herself in the apartment, to hear the noise of the coffee machine and Sergey’s voice.

“Mom, when will dad come for us?” Masha asked, accustomed to Sunday walks with her father. “Soon, little one,” Anna replied, not knowing how to explain what she herself did not understand.

The phone was silent. Sergey ignored her calls. Once, a brief message came: “You have everything you need. Give me time.”

Time. What was he hoping for? That he would realize how bad it was without his family? Or, conversely, that he would completely erase them from his life?

By the end of the first week, it became clear that the money Sergey left would not last long. The stove needed repairs, the roof needed fixing, and food had to be bought. But the worst discovery was that there simply was no work in the village.

“Maybe we should return to the city?” suggested Polina Ivanovna, one of the few neighbors in Lipovka. Anna shook her head: “There’s nowhere to return to. But here, at least, there’s a roof over our heads.”

That day she decided to clear the garden. The land, neglected for years, was overgrown with weeds, but Anna remembered how generous her grandmother’s plots had been.

“Kirill, can you help?” she addressed her eldest. The boy just nodded, still silent and aloof.

They worked together, pulling out weed roots and breaking up heavy clumps of earth. Hands, accustomed to light housework and the computer keyboard, quickly became covered with calluses. By evening, her back ached, and her shoulders hurt as if seized by a cramp. But they had managed to clear only a small patch of land.

“Ma,” Kirill unexpectedly broke the days of silence. “Why are we doing this?”

“To plant vegetables: potatoes, carrots, tomatoes,” Anna began to explain.

“No, I mean something else,” the son interrupted. “Why are we even here? Why don’t we return home? What happened between you and dad?”

Anna straightened up, wiping sweat with the back of her hand. How to explain the truth to a child? Admit that his father had abandoned them? Tell him about the long-standing grievances of Sergey’s mother, who always considered her unworthy of her son? Or admit that he might have another woman?

“We need time to think it all over,” she cautiously answered. “Sometimes adults need to be apart to understand…”

“To understand if they love each other,” Kirill finished for her. His voice carried such mature bitterness that Anna’s heart clenched. “Is it because of that lady? The one who was at our party?”

Anna froze. Valeriya—tall, elegant, Sergey’s companion. “Just a colleague,” he had said when she suspected him of coming home too late.

“Perhaps,” she honestly admitted. “But remember: dad loves the three of you. And I… I will do everything possible to make it good for you, even here.”

Kirill looked at her intently, then suddenly stepped forward and hugged her. His embrace was strong, almost manly.

“We’ll manage, mom,” he confidently said. “You and me. And we’ll definitely raise the little ones.”

That night, after the children fell asleep, Anna sat by the window for a long time, gazing at the stars—large, bright, nothing like the city ones. For the first time since moving to Lipovka, she felt not despair, but a strange inner peace. As if the earth under the old house was giving her strength.

From that day on, she worked in the garden every day, now together with Alyosha and Masha. The children, who had been fussy before, suddenly became excited about the idea of creating a “special harvest.” Masha even made a plan for the future garden, where flowers had to grow between the beds—”to make it beautiful, like in a park.”

One day, the shovel suddenly hit something hard, making a metallic sound.

“A root?” guessed Alyosha, approaching closer.

Anna carefully cleared the dirt with her hands and froze. In her palm shone a round object the size of a coin, but more massive and clearly ancient. She wiped it on her jeans, clearing it of dirt, and saw a man’s profile—possibly a king.

“Mom, is it a treasure?” Masha whispered in awe, peering over her shoulder.

“I don’t think so,” smiled Anna. “Just an old coin. Maybe grandma accidentally lost it once.”

But an inner voice whispered that Grandma Vera was too meticulous to lose coins in the garden.

The coin went into her pocket, and work continued. Half an hour later, the shovel clanged against something hard again. This time they found three coins, similar to the first.

By evening, their collection had grown by twelve findings, scattered across the cleared plot.

After the children fell asleep, Anna took out the coins and spread them on the table. Under the lamp light, she carefully examined the dates—1897, 1899. The imperial era, she guessed. A golden imperial? She vaguely remembered grandpa’s stories about these rare coins.

She spent the night sleepless, pondering the find. If these were really gold, how much could they be worth? Where did they come from? And most importantly—was there more?

The next morning, she called the only person who could help—Uncle Viktor, her father’s brother, living in the neighboring district center.

“Uncle Vitya,” she began uncertainly. “I found old coins on Grandma Vera’s plot. They’re yellow, heavy, with a profile…”

“Golden emperors?” he interrupted, and his voice filled with excitement. “Anya, are they really them?”

“I don’t know, Uncle Vitya,” she answered. “But they seem gold…”

“Stay home,” he said sternly. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ll be there in three hours.”

He arrived right on time, driving up to the house in an old “Niva.” Bearded, in a worn jacket, but with lively eyes. Anna hadn’t seen him for three years, since Aunt Lena’s funeral.

Uncle Viktor took one coin, turned it in his hands, and even checked it with his tooth.

“Gold,” he declared. “And not just gold, but a real collectible value. Anya, do you even realize what you’ve found?”

She shook her head.

“It’s a treasure, a real treasure,” he announced, sitting down. “Each coin is worth a lot of money. And if there are more…”

“Where did they come from?” Anna wondered. “Grandma never had gold.”

Viktor smirked.

“Don’t you know? But how could you… Your grandma Vera married a local guy, Ivan Krasnov. But before that, she belonged to another family—the Levitskys. Before the revolution, they were wealthy, owned a mill and a large estate. When the Bolsheviks came, old Levitsky, they say, buried all his savings somewhere on his land. And then they shot him as a kulak. Only his daughter, your great-grandmother, was spared because she was a child.”

“And no one looked for this gold?” Anna was surprised.

“Of course, they did,” Uncle replied. “There were legends about the Levitsky treasure. Just no one knew the exact place. There was a lot of land after all.”

Anna frowned:

“But why did this land end up with Grandma Vera?”

“After the war, when they were creating collective farms, the land was redistributed. Vera, as a direct descendant of the Levitskys, was allocated this plot—the very one where we’re sitting now. Maybe someone in the village council knew the family history.”

At that moment, the children, playing in the yard, made a noise. Kirill was digging under an old apple tree, and from Masha’s excited screams, it was clear—they had made a new discovery.

By evening, the table held twenty-eight gold coins, a massive church cross, and three elegant gold pendants with precious stones.

“What now?” Anna asked thoughtfully, looking at the treasures.

Uncle Viktor stroked the stubble on his chin:

“By law, you’re obliged to report the find to the state. You’re entitled to a reward—up to half the value. But…”

“But?” she repeated.

“If we go by the scattered coins, the treasure is extensive. Archaeologists might come, dig everything up, and compensation will be paid out slowly. And there’s no guarantee they’ll value it correctly.”

Anna looked at the glittering gold in the lamp light. Each coin carried a history that had survived the revolution, war, and the Soviet era. This treasure could completely change her life and her children’s lives.

“I need to think,” she said quietly.

Uncle left, promising to keep the secret until she made a decision. Before leaving, he connected her with an antiquarian from the regional center who could evaluate the find confidentially.

“Alexander Petrovich is reliable,” he assured. “He doesn’t ask too many questions.”

Two days later, Anna was in the small office of an antique shop, watching an elderly man carefully examine one of the coins through a magnifying glass.

“Gold imperial from 1897, excellent preservation,” he muttered. “In the market now… well, at least three hundred thousand per piece. Considering the collectible value…”

Anna’s head spun. Three hundred thousand per one coin? And she had over thirty already, and that was just the beginning.

“For the whole set you showed me, I’m ready to offer ten million,” the antiquarian said, putting away the magnifying glass. “Cash. Right now.”

Ten million. An amount that could solve all problems. Buy a house in a cozy town, ensure a good education for the kids, forget about financial worries for years to come.

“I need to think,” she replied, though an inner voice screamed: “Agree!”

On the way back to Lipovka, she couldn’t stop thinking about the antiquarian’s offer. Was it legal? Was it ethical? And if there were more treasures hidden on the plot?

In the evening, Sergey called—the first call in almost two weeks.

“How are you there?” he asked coldly, without his usual warmth.

“Fine,” she replied, trying to maintain calm. “The kids miss you.”

Pause.

“I miss them too. Maybe I’ll take them for the weekend?”

“Without me?”

“Anna,” his voice tinged with irritation, “don’t start. I want to see my kids. It’s not up for discussion.”

She took a deep breath to calm down.

“Fine. When will you come?”

“Friday after work.”

After a short conversation with the children—Masha cried, hearing her father, Alyosha talked about the garden, and Kirill remained laconic—Sergey spoke to her again:

“Listen, mom wants to sell the cottage. She’s offering you to move there. Closer to the city, to civilization…”

Anna felt anger boiling inside her.

“So first you kicked us out of the apartment, and now you’re offering charity from your mother?” she asked quietly. “Thanks, but we’re comfortable here.”

“What does ‘comfortable’ mean?” Sergey was surprised. “You’re in an abandoned village with three kids, no job, no future…”

“I have a future,” she answered. “And I’ll find work. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t understand why she lied. Maybe pride didn’t allow her to admit he was right. Or maybe the gold coins, hidden in a tin can, gave her confidence.

“Alright, decide for yourself,” Sergey said after a pause. “Just think of the kids. They need a normal life, school, friends…”

“And they don’t need a father?” she couldn’t hold back. “Or is your new woman so good she’s ready to replace their mother?”

Sergey sighed:

“So, Kirill told you… Anna, it’s a complicated situation. Valeriya has nothing to do with it. We’re just different people. I’m striving forward, and you…”

“And what about me?” she interrupted. “Became a housewife because you insisted on a third child? Left my career because your mother thought a successful businessman’s wife shouldn’t work? Or because my literature teacher’s salary seemed ridiculous next to your income?”

“Let’s not,” Sergey said tiredly. “I’ll be there for the kids on Friday at six.”

After the conversation, Anna sat on the porch for a long time, staring at the stars. She didn’t feel the pain that had tormented her in the first days of separation. Instead, a firm determination was growing inside her.

In the morning, she took up the shovel again. By evening, they had found five more coins. And then, while digging a spot for a compost heap, Kirill stumbled upon a metal object.

It was an old safe—rusty but still sturdy. Together—Anna, Kirill, and two neighbors called for help—they managed to extract it from the ground.

“Such safes were used in stores,” noted Uncle Kolya, a former blacksmith. “A reliable thing, German-made.”

The lock didn’t give in right away. They had to call Uncle Kolya again, this time with a grinder. When the massive door finally opened, Anna asked the neighbors to leave, lying about possible dangerous finds inside—weapons or wartime ammunition.

Inside were canvas bags. Dozens of small knots the size of a fist. The first one she untied with trembling hands was filled with gold coins. The second contained the same. The third—jewelry with precious stones.

“Mom, are we rich now?” Alyosha asked in astonishment, examining the shiny items with wide-open eyes.

“I don’t know,” Anna honestly answered. “But we definitely have opportunities.”

That night she didn’t sleep a wink, weighing her options. Sell everything secretly through the antiquarian? Report to the state and get a lawful share? Or was there a third way?

In the morning, she called Uncle Viktor.

“I found a safe,” she started without preamble. “There’s an incredible amount of valuables inside. But I don’t want to sell everything at once. And I don’t want to break the law.”

“What are you suggesting?” Uncle asked cautiously.

“I want to open a small museum here in Lipovka. A museum of the Levitsky family history. With part of the exhibits from the treasure.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

“Are you serious?” he finally said. “Anya, there are millions there! Maybe even tens of millions!”

“I know,” she agreed, though he couldn’t see her. “And I will officially declare the find. I’ll get my share—that will be enough for a life and education for the kids. And the rest… The rest should stay here. In this land. Maybe it will attract tourists and help revive Lipovka.”

“You’re crazy,” Uncle Viktor sighed. “But damn brave crazy.”

On Friday evening, exactly at six o’clock, Sergey’s black SUV pulled up to the house. The kids, already gathered and excitedly thrilled, ran out to meet him.

Sergey looked tired and lost. He hugged the kids, kissed Masha, ruffled Alyosha’s hair. Kirill, however, greeted him coldly, challenging his father with his gaze.

“Hello,” Sergey nodded to Anna when she came out onto the porch. His gaze lingered on the house. “Did you start renovations?”

Anna followed his gaze. Indeed, in the last few days, the old house had transformed: new shutters made by Uncle Kolya, a painted porch, cleaned paths, neat beds in the yard with the first sprouts.

“A little,” she shrugged. “We need to live somehow.”

Sergey shuffled from foot to foot, clearly embarrassed by the changes.

“Mom, can we show dad our treasure?” Alyosha suddenly suggested, and Anna tensed, throwing a warning glance at her son.

“What treasure?” Sergey was surprised.

“Just a children’s one,” she quickly made up. “Found an old box in the barn. There are Soviet badges, old coins. A real treasure for them.”

Kirill looked at his mother intently, then shifted his gaze to his father:

“Dad, is it time to go? You probably have plans.”

Something in his son’s voice made Sergey freeze. He surveyed the yard, the old house, his ex-wife’s face—and suddenly said:

“You… you’ve settled in nicely here. Can I come in for a minute? Have some tea?”

Anna hesitated for just a second:

“Come in. I just baked a pie. With apples.”

On Sunday evening, when Sergey returned the kids, he seemed even more lost. The kids, on the other hand, glowed with happiness—two days in the city with their father, full of entertainment and gifts, had returned their previous carefree nature.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked when the kids ran into the house to show Grandma Polina their new toys.

They walked to the old apple tree—the very one under which they had recently found the safe, now safely hidden in the basement.

“Anna, I…” Sergey began, hesitating. “I’ve been thinking a lot these days. About us, about the kids. About what happened.”

She was silent, looking somewhere past him.

“Valeriya… We broke up,” he suddenly blurted out. “It was a mistake from the start. I thought I was suffocating in our marriage, that I needed novelty, brightness. But when I saw you here, I realized I lost the most important thing.”

 

“And what is that?” she asked quietly.

“Family. Home. You,” he looked her straight in the eyes. “I want to get it all back. To have you return to the city. To our apartment.”

Anna looked at the man she had loved for ten years. Handsome, successful, confident. Now he looked so lost. Before, she would have given anything to hear these words. But now…

“Sergey,” she calmly said. “We won’t return to the city. At least, not yet.”

“What? Why?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “It’s emptiness here! The village is slowly dying, the school is ten kilometers away, there’s no work…”

“Everything will change soon,” Anna replied with a slight smile. “I’m creating a museum. A small, private one. And I’ve been offered to restore the local library. Maybe I’ll start teaching again—run a literature club for children from neighboring villages.”

“But… where are the funds? How are you organizing all this?” His voice sounded bewildered.

Anna looked at the ground under their feet—dark, fertile, keeping its secrets.

“You once said that I should show independence,” she gently reminded him. “So, I’m showing it. I have… opportunities. More than you think.”

Sergey was silent, clearly not understanding what was happening.

“I’m not saying ‘never,’” she added, softening her tone. “I’m saying ‘not yet.’ The kids are doing well here. They’re in fresh air, learning to work, seeing the results of their efforts. Kirill smiled for the first time in a long time. Alyosha stopped being afraid of nature. And Masha… didn’t you notice how her curls play in the sun?”

“And what are you suggesting?” There was hurt in his voice. “That I move here? To the wilderness?”

“Why?” she was surprised. “Your business is in the city. But you can come on weekends. Continue to be part of their lives. Part of our lives. And we’ll decide together from there.”

He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. In front of him was no longer the former Anna—soft, submissive, constantly doubting. She had become someone else: confident, calm, with an inner light he couldn’t explain.

“You’ve changed,” he finally admitted.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Perhaps it had to be this way.”

A year later

Anna stood at the entrance to the new museum, welcoming another group of tourists. “The History of the Levitsky Family,” read the sign above the ancient log house, restored from archival drawings.

“Welcome to Lipovka,” she warmly greeted guests from the capital. “Our museum tells a story of how treasures can wait not only in the ground but also in the roots of a family…”

Over the past year, Lipovka had transformed. New homes appeared where there had been abandoned plots. The old mill, thanks to a grant obtained through a history professor from the regional university, now operated as a museum complex. A cozy cafe-library opened in Anna’s house, where locals gathered in the evenings for readings and discussions.

She officially reported the treasure find a month after the first coin. An archaeological expedition that came to Lipovka found not only the safe but other valuables hidden by the Levitsky family from the Bolsheviks. Half of the treasures by law went to the state, the other half—to Anna as the landowner.

The money from the sale of part of the gold was invested in the development of the village. Together with like-minded people, she created a fund for the restoration of historical heritage. Interest in the history of the Levitskys attracted tourists and then investors.

“And here is the main exhibit of our museum,” she pointed to a glass showcase, where lay a worn diary. “This is Alexander Levitsky’s notebook, found along with the treasures. He wrote: ‘My wealth will bring no joy to those who seek only material gain. But it will change the life of those who see in it a chance to build a future.’”

The tourists carefully examined the exhibits. From the next room came the voice of Kirill—a thirteen-year-old boy who had become a true connoisseur of Lipovka’s history and conducted tours for children’s groups.

Sergey’s black SUV appeared on the road precisely at three o’clock in the afternoon, as always. Now he came every Friday after lunch and left late on Sunday evening. Although Anna offered him to stay at the house, he preferred a room at Polina Ivanovna’s: “We need to move step by step.”

Their relationship was gradually restored—through conversations, joint walks, work on the land, family evenings. Sergey, who had once been uncomfortable with rural simplicity, discovered a new passion: crafting, working with his hands, spending time with the kids without urban hustle.

“Hello,” he smiled, approaching the museum. “How’s my favorite director?”

“Great,” she replied, extending a hand, which he carefully grasped. “Today we received a letter from the Ministry of Culture. We’ve been included in the ‘Golden Ring of Small Towns’ tour.”

“Congratulations!” he rejoiced. “That’s great news! By the way, remember the eco-tourism project? Investors agreed. We’ll be building glamping by the lake.”

They walked along the village street, now paved with cobblestones and decorated with young linden trees. They talked about business, kids, plans. Like old friends. Like partners. And possibly, as people ready to start anew.

“Seryozha, do you ever regret?” she suddenly asked, stopping by the old apple tree, under which their new journey had once begun. “That everything turned out this way?”

He pondered, looking at the blossoming branches.

“I regret the pain caused,” he honestly admitted. “I regret my blindness and selfishness. But I don’t regret that we ended up here. Sometimes you need to lose something to realize how valuable it is.”

Anna smiled, looking at the ground under the apple tree. This land had given her not only material wealth but something much more important—strength, confidence, a new beginning.

“Mom! Dad!” came the children’s voices. “Hurry up! Uncle Viktor brought new seedlings for our garden!”

Anna and Sergey looked at each other and, as if by an invisible signal, took hands.

Beneath their feet, the earth held many more secrets. But the most precious gold was not what remained in the basement. The true treasure was their new life—for them, for the children, for the entire revived village.

The old apple tree, remembering several generations of the family, quietly rustled its leaves, as if nodding in approval. Their choice was right.

Jennifer always described her daughter Emma as a beacon of light, often dressed in vivid colors, creating vibrant drawings of magical creatures. Yet, a noticeable shift in Emma’s mood—her recent withdrawal, lack of appetite, and preference to be outdoors—prompted Jennifer to suspect something was amiss. Initially, she attributed these changes to typical childhood phases, but her perspective shifted when Emma’s kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Silverton, invited her for a discussion, emphasizing the importance of parental involvement.

Mrs. Silverton revealed a collection of Emma’s drawings during the meeting, all steeped in dark, ominous tones, a stark departure from her usual bright artwork. The drive home was filled with silence as Jennifer processed the unsettling revelation.

 

 

That evening, while preparing dinner, Jennifer decided to address the issue. “Sweetheart,” she began, mentioning her visit to the school. Emma, curious, asked why she had met with her teacher. Jennifer explained the concern over her recent drawings. Emma, silent initially, eventually revealed a disturbing secret. “I found Daddy’s secret,” she whispered.

Intrigued and worried, Jennifer followed Emma to the home office of her husband, William, who often stayed away for work, maintaining a separate apartment for his distant job commitments. Emma retrieved an old box from William’s desk, claiming she found it while searching for crayons.

Inside the box, Jennifer discovered shocking evidence of a double life: photographs of William with another woman and their children. This discovery confronted Jennifer with a harsh reality far beyond what she had imagined.

The revelation explained Emma’s change in behavior and her dark drawings, reflecting the turmoil she felt upon uncovering the truth about her father. Jennifer knew she had to confront William and protect Emma from the fallout of this family secret, navigating through the emotional turmoil to find a way forward for both her and her daughter.
As Emma guided me to William’s home office, curiosity mingled with anxiety about what she might have uncovered.

 

 

She approached William’s desk and pulled open the top drawer, revealing an old box. “I found this looking for crayons,” she explained.

Handing me the box, Emma quickly retreated to her room.

Opening the box, I felt my world unravel. Inside were photographs of William embracing another woman, surrounded by three young children ranging from two to seven years old.

Shock, betrayal, and heartbreak overwhelmed me in rapid succession.

Beneath the photos lay a small notebook filled with scribbled numbers, mirroring the emergency contacts in my own notebook.

The need to confront William was clear, but the breadth of the deceit left me unsure of how to proceed. Above all, I knew Emma needed stability; the situation was already impacting her.

I carefully replaced the items and left the office, finding Emma in the hallway, her eyes brimming with confusion and concern.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I reassured her. “I promise, everything will be okay.”

After dropping Emma at school the next day, I returned home and reexamined the notebook. Impersonating a teacher, I called Mia, the woman in the photos. Her surprise was palpable when I handed the phone to William, who unwittingly confirmed my fears. I hung up, heart sinking.

As the hours ticked by, I called Mia again, this time revealing the full extent of William’s duplicity. She was as shocked as I was, unaware of Emma and me.

Resolute, I contacted my lawyer to dissolve my marriage. Emma, Mia, her children, and I all deserved better.

In the weeks that followed, Mia and I met and shared our stories, uncovering the depths of William’s deception. Our lawyer worked diligently to ensure justice for us and facilitated a meeting for the children, who were, after all, siblings.

We stood united against William’s manipulations, our combined actions more dramatic than any fictional plot. Our lawyer secured alimony, though the mystery of how William managed dual marriages lingered.

Meanwhile, therapy helped Emma begin healing from the ordeal, but the true salve was forming bonds with her newfound siblings.

Elvira didn’t like to remember that place, but the gray institutional walls of the orphanage, the dreary, dirty courtyard, and the worn swings and benches would never be forgotten. Like many children from the orphanage, she never knew her parents, and no one ever visited her. She was left at the gates as an infant, only three or four months old. As a result, the girl grew up without maternal affection, always unusually thoughtful for a child, not playing much with her peers, mostly keeping to herself, away from everyone. She loved watching nature and became particularly attached to a kitten that somehow ended up at the dining hall. She fed it, stroked its fur, and cared for it as if sensing something familiar and familial in it. She also devoted her time to her studies, excelled academically, grew curious, and read a lot. She was particularly good at mathematics and the sciences, easily calculating large numbers in her head and even solving complex equations! The teachers were amazed at her abilities and praised the girl, providing her with various books and interesting puzzles.

Elvira didn’t care for pointless mischief, silly jokes, or taunting others, and because of this, she was disliked. She dreamed of growing up quickly and escaping to freedom, fleeing the province for a place with more opportunities for an interesting and fulfilling life. Physically, the girl resembled a Turgenev maiden: quiet, modest, with long, waist-length blonde hair, and sad gray eyes. The cruel teenagers, who had long given up on school and tried cigarettes and some even alcohol, mercilessly teased her! All she ever heard was: “Swot! Bore! Think you’ll study well and become a millionaire? Fat chance! Take that! People like us are needed by no one! So your effort is wasted!” Elvira often cried, choked by hurt, but despite all hardships and deprivations, she successfully graduated from the orphanage and was even awarded a certificate for her excellent academic performance. After that, it seemed all roads, all paths were open to her!

Elvira moved to the metropolis with great hope. She had long decided that she would definitely pursue higher education, submitted her documents to the correspondence department of the economic university, and, after successfully passing the exams, she was admitted on a budget! But to exist and provide for herself, she needed to find a job. She knocked on many doors, hoping to get a good position, but she was not hired anywhere without experience and a diploma! And then, by an advertisement, she barely managed to get a job in an office, and only as a cleaner. Of course, this wasn’t the job she dreamed of, she was very upset, but there was no other way out. The girl hoped that over time, when she finished her studies, she would be noticed and offered a better position, the main thing in this business was to get a foothold.

The team she worked with was somehow disjointed, unfriendly, everyone watched and gossiped behind each other’s backs. The office workers were cool towards Elvira: young, pretty, she already seemed like a threat to them in the future, and she was studying at the university. She didn’t like all this herself, but there was nowhere to escape to, money was more important for her now. And then the deputy director added fuel to the fire, for him it was important to have his person in all departments. He tried to involve Elvira in this matter, since a cleaner was an excellent spy, present everywhere, generally unnoticed, but could hear and see a lot! However, the new employee flatly refused to be a snitch, which seriously enraged Boris Andreevich, and he only waited for a convenient opportunity to fire her. The firm was managed by Vitaly Sergeevich, an elderly, imposing man who was very pedantic, well-groomed, dressed to the nines, but for some reason wore a funny wig! Apparently, he was embarrassed by his baldness, and thought that it made him look younger. The employees behind his back simply died of laughter, as he indeed looked comical in it. Employees often discussed in the smoking area that he disliked his son, Roman, always finding fault with him, and also went for manicures and had rejuvenating masks done, which also was a subject of mean jokes for many.

Elvira suffered greatly from loneliness, for she was essentially alone in this huge city, with no one to even share, help, or sympathize with! She desperately wanted to find her parents, look them in the eye, find out why they abandoned her? There must be some reason, right? Children aren’t just abandoned for no reason? She periodically called and wrote to the director of her orphanage, Fyodor Petrovich, with whom she had a warm relationship, and begged, just pleaded, him to help find any traces!

One day, when important negotiations were planned at the firm, Elvira heard a baby crying on her way to work, near her stop. Looking in the direction from which it came, she noticed a basket. Approaching closer, she saw a newborn baby struggling in swaddling clothes. The girl’s breath caught: “Where’s the mother? Not a soul around! Could it be abandoned? Oh, what a horror!”

Without a second thought, she took the baby and rushed to work. She couldn’t just leave the foundling! After all, it was pitiful! She immediately remembered how she herself had been left at the gates of the orphanage! But that was an orphanage, and they would definitely accept the child, but to leave your own child at a stop, that’s simply barbaric, unimaginable to her!

The security guard at the gate whistled and was greatly surprised, but still let her in, grumbling:

“It’s never happened before, coming to work with babies! Some kind of madhouse! If the boss finds out, we’re all in trouble! Well, pity the little one, go through quickly, maybe they won’t notice!”

Just then, unfortunately, the baby cried loudly, Elvira was flustered and didn’t know how to calm him down. The baby was obviously hungry and very cold. And at that very moment, the nasty Boris Andreevich himself entered the building! A whole delegation for business production matters was due to arrive any minute, and seeing the girl with a crying baby in her arms, he literally boiled over:

“That’s all we needed! Not only that you’re not coping with your duties, working sloppily, but you also brought a child here, set up a nursery! This is beyond all limits! You probably got pregnant, huh? I’ll fire you without severance pay!” he yelled, turning red and foaming at the mouth, pointing a finger at the baby.

Scared Elvira didn’t know what to answer, and only stutteringly tried to explain:

“I’m sorry, Boris Andreevich! You misunderstood. This isn’t my child. Don’t shout so loudly, he’s already crying, you’re scaring him even more! He needs to be fed. Understand, I was walking to work, and there he lies in a basket near the stop and cries. All alone! What, was I supposed to leave him? Pity the little one!”

But these excuses only enraged the deputy even more, and he didn’t hold back in expressions:

“No, look at this, she’s even lying! Don’t you shut me up here! Look at this impudent loose woman! So, I’m supposed to feed your brat too? Look at her.. acting like Mother Teresa here!”

 

 

Elvira was completely upset, rocking and trying to calm the little one and cried herself, not knowing what to do now! At this moment, the owner of the company appeared at the gate. He, it turns out, was watching this scene through a surveillance camera in his office and saw how his deputy was tormenting and humiliating the poor girl in front of everyone. The owner was so shocked and enraged that he even pulled off his wig in anger. He decided to intervene immediately and put an end to this self-will.

Vitaly Sergeevich said in a quiet voice, boding nothing good for the deputy:

“What are you doing, Boris, behaving so disgracefully with employees? Allowing yourself to humiliate and insult? Who gave you such a right? You see, this is an emergency situation, force majeure! And after all – this is a child, he needs help, and as quickly as possible, and you’re yelling here with foul language!”

He looked paternally and warmly at Elvira, then at the baby:

“Well, tell us, what happened to you? Where did you find the baby?”

Elvira calmed down, stopped crying, and told him everything, where and how she discovered the foundling, and at the end she added:

“You can fire me, but I don’t regret my action for a second. Now is not the time to think about that. The baby is clearly hungry, and freezing. And I don’t even have anything with me for him… Who knows what happened to his mother and why he ended up abandoned in the middle of the street? Something bad might have happened to her! Anything can happen in life! It’s clear that he was just born, he’s not even a month old! What should I do? I feel so sorry for him! Such a tiny one, and already not needed by anyone, just like me!”

Her sincere emotions affected those around. They sympathized, and Vitaly Sergeevich’s eyes even moistened!

He immediately, without wasting time, instructed the head of security to take the child to a baby home. Moreover, he ordered to buy everything necessary for him for the first time. Elvira didn’t want to let go of the tiny bundle, her heart was breaking. She sadly handed over the baby and waved goodbye, thinking to herself: “I wish you, little one, that your mommy is found! Be happy!”

After this incident, to everyone’s joy, the harmful deputy was transferred to a smaller branch at the edge of the city. All employees understood that this was akin to exile, and now Boris Andreevich’s harsh weekdays and work without weekends would begin. But few pitied him, as the deputy deliberately pitted colleagues against each other and caused disputes in the team. With his departure, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, it became morally easier to work.

The director did not forget about the foundling and, using his connections in the police, found his mother. When they informed him who it was, he nearly lost the ability to speak and clutched his heart! It was hard to believe, but the baby was abandoned by Roman’s fiancée, the son of Vitaly Sergeevich, Alice! The director and his son rushed to the wayward mother that very day to find out everything! What prompted her to such a nightmarish act? After all, Alice was not a poor girl, but very impulsive! Roman met her by chance at a party with mutual friends and couldn’t resist, she was so bright and charismatic! How she danced so passionately, everyone clapped and shouted “Bravo!” Roman’s affair was turbulent and swift, but the lovers were completely different and often quarreled. The girl wanted freedom, thrill, and the feeling of flying! But Roman was a serious guy, worked a lot and really didn’t like parties, attended entertainment events very rarely and only for a special occasion. Soon the fiancé grew tired of the flighty and frivolous character of the bride, and they quarreled fiercely and broke up for good. Roman didn’t even suspect that Alice was pregnant!
When Vitaliy Sergeyevich and Roman finally reached Alisa, she reluctantly opened the door. The men entered the well-furnished apartment. The hostess sat in the kitchen, absently stirring her coffee with a spoon. Roma had never seen Alisa so depressed and shattered! He tried to appeal to her conscience:

“Alisa, how could you? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? I would have helped, even if we’re not together anymore! Why did you leave your own child at the bus stop? What kind of mother does that? It’s just unimaginable!”

Suddenly, the woman jumped up as if scalded and screamed at the top of her lungs:

“What are you doing here? Lecturing me on morals? You, Romochka, left me, so why would I want this child! I only regret not having an abortion sooner! When I came home from the maternity ward, I was so overwhelmed with despair! Just so you know, his name is Artem. He cried day and night, nonstop, I thought I’d go mad! So I took him as far away as possible! I’m still young and want to live! A child is such a burden! I’d be tied down for life, with no freedom! Both of you, get out, I don’t want to see anyone!”

The father couldn’t hold back anymore and harshly replied:

“You are a disgraceful woman, Aliska, heartless and cold as a biscuit! I thought something might have happened to you, and the child ended up on the street by accident, but you… you wanted to get rid of him..”

At home, during a family council, it was decided to take little Artemka into the family and raise him themselves! It was unacceptable for their own flesh and blood to be shuffled around orphanages! The director’s wife, Svetlana Petrovna, insisted on getting a DNA test just to be sure, given Alisa’s promiscuous nature, to make sure he was their actual grandson! The results came back positive, now everyone was at ease, they hired a professional nanny, and Artemka finally found a family! Roman cherished his son, now dedicating all his free time to him. Svetlana Petrovna made sure her grandson had the best of everything, she loved him dearly, as he resembled Roma so much! Meanwhile, Alisa heartlessly signed off her parental rights and led a reckless life! Maternal instincts never awoke in her, alas!

The news quickly spread across the company, and everyone talked about it except the lazy! Many respected Elvira for such a noble deed, and she even got a bonus. But a better position was not offered, and she continued to clean offices.

Temporarily, the director’s son, Roman Vitalyevich, was appointed in Boris Andreevich’s place, the one his father disliked. Elvira was curious to see him, having heard so much about him indirectly. To her surprise, the new deputy turned out to be a very pleasant young man, tall, attractive, and very charismatic. Cleaners are usually overlooked, and Elvira was used to it, but the director’s son always greeted her warmly when entering the building, and charmingly smiled, even adding: “Have a good day, Elvira!” or just joked. And it made her feel so good! They started with meaningless phrases and gradually began to talk.

Then something happened that Elvira couldn’t fathom! Roman Vitalyevich called her to his office! She walked to the office a bit nervous: “Why does he need me? We have no business together by status, it seems I haven’t made any mistakes. A real mystery!”

Elvira knocked and quietly asked:

“Excuse me, Roman Vitalyevich, did you call for me? Is something wrong?”

The deputy was very thoughtful and serious, and gestured her to a chair:

“Please, Elvira, take a seat. I’m in big trouble and really need your help! I simply can’t do without you!”

Indeed, this day was the most mysterious in Elvira’s life! Later in the evening, the orphanage director called her:

“Good evening, Elvira! I have fulfilled your request, and found your mother! This is not a conversation for a phone call, you understand, so I’m waiting for you here!” — and he hung up! Elvira’s heart was ready to burst, and tears welled up in her eyes:

“Lord! Could it really be happening, and I’m finally going to see my mommy!”

All weekend, Elvira was a wreck, shaking and trembling, sleepless. She sat in the kitchen, drank bitter coffee, cried, and kept wondering, what was her mom like? Maybe a successful woman, or maybe a fallen, alcoholic wreck? Did she have other children? And how should she behave with her, what to say? To ask bluntly: “Why and for what did you abandon me?” It seemed too harsh! But pretending that she had forgiven her immediately seemed unlikely! And if she doesn’t want to talk to me at all, then what?

These thoughts swirled in her head, and tears fell onto the tablecloth…

Finally, Monday! Elvira flew to her orphanage, as if on wings, having taken time off from work! The director, Fyodor Petrovich, was already waiting in his office, as agreed.

Elvira greeted:

 

“Good day, Fyodor Petrovich! How long has it been? Thank you for responding to my request and finding my mommy! I still can’t believe it happened? Don’t keep me waiting, tell me, who is she? How do I find her? Will I really see her soon!”

Fyodor Petrovich coughed and fiddled with his glasses:

“Well, sit down, Elechka! Yes, I put a lot of effort into finding out anything about your birth, but I have nothing good to report. Your mother died a long time ago, and you were brought to us a bit later. Someone told me that your mom’s friend initially took care of you, but apparently couldn’t handle it, as a baby is such a responsibility, and gave you to the orphanage. Here, I wrote down where to roughly look for your mom’s grave, and how to find that friend. If it’s really her. I can’t guarantee that what I heard, I told you.”

Everything inside Elvira suddenly sank and fell! She had hoped, believed in a miracle, but now it was all… over! She grabbed her head and sobbed bitterly!

Fyodor Petrovich comforted her:

“Now, Elechka, stop, don’t tear your soul unnecessarily! You can’t return anything, there’s nothing to be done! I’ve worked here for so many years, yet I’m always amazed. Home kids often don’t appreciate their parents, often overlook them, ignore them! And you, my poor orphans, so dream of finding them, despite being abandoned! You’re ready to forgive them anything, justify any of their actions, just to have a close person nearby! What a paradox! My poor ones! Well, nothing, you need to live on and look forward, not back! Once you get married, have your own family, it will be easier. Who if not you, Elechka, surely deserve it! So don’t mourn, go home! Good luck to you!”

The girl wiped her tears and thanked the director:

“Still, thank you for everything, Fyodor Petrovich! At least some result! I sincerely thank you for your care and participation. And all the best to you! Goodbye.”

Elvira decided not to go home but immediately went to her mother’s grave. She barely found the leaning, grass-overgrown grave among other burials at the cemetery. There was no photo, just a plaque, and that’s it! The girl stood as if enchanted, staring at her mother’s life dates without looking away! Elvira couldn’t comprehend that here lay her closest family member for many years, and she had no idea! The girl quietly cried and said aloud: “Mommy! My dear! Forgive me for holding a grudge against you all these years and hating you, thinking you were heartless and abandoned me! Turns out, you gave your life so I could be born! How sad that we will never meet! I miss you so much, I so want to hug you, to hold you close! Forgive me, mommy! I promise, I will often come to talk to you! I believe you can hear me!”

At least her heart felt somewhat lighter, at least now Elvira didn’t feel like a rolling stone without kin or clan! She firmly decided to refurbish her mother’s grave and order a monument! This was a tribute of respect to her kin!

It took great effort for the girl to find her mother’s friend, the very one who, according to rumors, had taken her to the orphanage gates. The woman’s name was Antonina and she lived in a small suburban village, just ten kilometers from the city. Elvira knocked on the gate of an old, shabby house, her heart sinking! How to start the conversation and what to say?

An elderly, unkempt woman appeared on the porch. She was dressed very poorly, in a washed-out and patched robe, with an old tattered jacket on top. It was evident she was ill, as she coughed heavily and hoarsely.

Elvira decided not to beat around the bush and started with the main question:

“Good afternoon. Are you Antonina?”

She nodded and also looked surprised:

“Yes, my name is Antonina Ivanovna. And who are you? You’re so young and pretty, and I think I’ve seen you somewhere? Are you from the social services by chance?”

“Not at all, my name is Elvira, I’m the daughter of Valentina Uvarova. The one you reportedly carried to the gates of the children’s home yourself! I need to talk to you!”

The woman’s face suddenly changed, turned pale as a sheet, and she gestured for her guest to come inside. The house was cramped, full of clutter, and smelled of damp and dust!

The hostess sat down on a chair and began a difficult conversation:

“Yes, my child, I have such a sin, I confess! I thought no one would ever find out! Here’s what happened. Valentina and I were friends from childhood and grew up together. Valya later trained as a seamstress, and I foolishly went into construction. Your mother, Elvira, was a real beauty, you’re just like her! I don’t know where she met her beau, but she loved him so much she was ready to die for him! He also swore eternal love to her, such a passion, indescribable. But as soon as your mom got pregnant, that wealthy suitor left her! Doctors advised against giving birth, her heart was weak, but she insisted, wouldn’t hear of it! She really wanted a child from her beloved, to have a memory remain! But see, it wasn’t meant to be, your mom died in childbirth, and she had no one but me! Well, I scraped together whatever I could for the funeral, went into debt. And I did take you from the maternity ward, God knows, I wanted to adopt you! I felt so sorry for you, being an orphan myself, I know life in an orphanage isn’t easy! But I quickly realized I couldn’t, I wouldn’t manage to raise you! They paid pennies at work, and if I had quit and stayed home with you, we’d have been at the very end! And my live-in partner, Stepan, flew into a rage right away, wouldn’t accept you at all. He said, choose, either me or someone else’s child! He said, we’re barely making ends meet as it is, and you brought another mouth to feed! I was scared, and so I left you at the gates of the orphanage! I know there’s no forgiveness for me! God has punished me, I have no children, never managed to get pregnant no matter how much I tried, Stepan eventually left me anyway, and I lived alone. I’ve thought about you many times, my conscience won’t let me rest, though it’s been many years! But what can be done, the past can’t be brought back.”
Elvira quietly said:

“Indeed, nothing can be undone! Tell me more about my mother, perhaps you have a photo of her? I would like to order a monument for her grave with a photograph.”

Antonina rummaged through a cupboard and pulled out an old photograph. She handed it to Elvira:

“Here’s one. This is your mother at about your age now. Isn’t she beautiful? She didn’t need any makeup! No wonder that rich man lost his head over Valyusha! Take it, keep it as a memory, and forgive me once again! You see how I live, poor as a church mouse! I’ve also fallen ill, this cough has been torturing me, making life unbearable!”

The woman and Elvira warmly said goodbye; the girl managed to forgive her and even gave her some money for medicine. Who knows, maybe at that moment she really couldn’t have acted any differently. Perhaps it was fate! The photo of her mother was now always in her purse, like a talisman!

On her way home, a small, skinny, and ugly puppy with a cropped, stubby tail followed her. It looked up at her with devoted eyes and whimpered. The girl stomped her feet several times and clapped her hands to scare it away, but to no avail. It only cowered, expecting an inevitable hit, obviously used to being mistreated! Elvira even got angry: “Why are you sticking to me, little one! Leave me alone! I have nothing to feed you with, and nowhere to take you! The landlady will find out and kick us out right away! She explicitly warned against any pets!”

But the puppy didn’t lag behind for a single step and followed her all the way to her apartment building. Elvira had already entered the building but couldn’t resist looking back. The little one sat down on its haunches and looked at her so pitifully, tears welling in its eyes! The girl felt so sorry for the poor creature, utterly helpless! She suddenly thought: “It’s just as lonely as I am… it must be so frightening for it, nowhere to go! No one to feed it or show any pity! Well, come what may! In the end, it chose me! So be it!” The girl picked up the dirty little thing:

“What am I going to do with you? So be it, come along! You’ll live with me! If we get kicked out, we’ll be kicked out together! I’ll call you Chernysh (Blackie)!”

Elvira first bathed the puppy, fed it, and made a makeshift bed in the hallway, deciding it would sleep there. To her surprise, when she came out of the shower, she found her guest peacefully snoring on her bed! What’s funnier, the puppy had washed up and turned out to be snow-white and fluffy! Elvira laughed and threw up her hands:

“Look at that! A snow-white puppy named Blackie! Just hilarious!”

She gently moved the little one and lay down beside it. It woke up, wagged its stubby tail, and licked her face! It was so touching! Inside, she felt warm and good, as if this little warm bundle was warming her troubled soul! Thus, Elvira found her best and most faithful friend, her beloved Chernysh! Now she had somewhere to rush home to in the evenings, for her little one was waiting! They walked together, played with a stick and a ball, and she no longer felt so alone!

Meanwhile, back at the company, passions were running high. The director unexpectedly fell ill, after so many years of stress his heart failed, and he was urgently hospitalized in the cardiology department. But business is a tough affair, and without strict control, the company couldn’t stay afloat for long. They had to involve the son in managing the company. Although the businessman was very reluctant to do this! The thing is, Roman wasn’t his biological son. Vitaliy Sergeyevich married Sveta when she already had a little son from her first, unsuccessful marriage! Vitaliy Sergeyevich always treated his stepson coolly, no matter how hard he tried, he could never truly love him as his own! Although the boy grew up fine, studied well, and always tried to prove to his father that he was worthy! He would win first place at an olympiad, run home joyfully:

“Mom, Dad, look! The tasks were so difficult, but I still managed! Look, I took first place!”

Mom, as usual, would rush to hug and kiss her child, praising him, while his father would just frown and say:

“Well done, son, but it’s not nice to boast!”

And so it was every time, no matter what it concerned! Roman was always hurt by why his father didn’t love him. He repeatedly asked his mother about it, she just felt sorry for the boy and tried to justify her husband:

 

 

“You see, sonny, your dad can’t be changed! That’s just how he is, sometimes he’s harsh! But it only seems that way. In reality, he loves you very much, he just doesn’t show it! After all, overall he’s not bad, he doesn’t harm us, he doesn’t deny us anything!”

Vitaliy Sergeyevich himself didn’t know why he distrusted his stepson, but he couldn’t do anything about it! Even today, lying in a hospital bed, he couldn’t help but make a sharp comment:

“Roman, here’s the thing. You see, I’ve been eaten up by ailments, and work can’t tolerate delays, you know. So be it, I trust you with the company for a month, as a trial period! I hope I won’t regret my decision!”

The son was simply thrilled and assured his father:

“Thank you, Dad, you won’t have to blush for me! I won’t let you down! I promise!”

Roman took on the task with enthusiasm, he knew many of the company’s processes well and had management experience. But from the very first day, everything went awry! The team didn’t accept him, that’s all! Many cast sidelong glances and whispered, always comparing him to his father! They only murmured that he was too young, weak, wouldn’t cope! We’ll all sink! Roman Vitalyevich tried to encourage the workers, issued bonuses, sometimes, true, he had to scold, it couldn’t be avoided, but the atmosphere in the company was extremely tense! The only person who didn’t hold back, and treated him positively, was, surprisingly, Elvira. She always genuinely and warmly smiled at him, wishing him a good day.

And recently, his father threw him a nearly impossible task!

Vitaliy Sergeyevich instructed him with the following:

“Listen, son. You have a responsible and important task. I found very profitable partners, the company ‘Signal’, you need to sign a contract with them, it will lift our company to a completely new level! So go on, take care of it. Don’t let me down! We need to sign a contract with them, such an opportunity might not come again!”

Roman was really nervous, ‘Signal’ was one of the largest companies in the city! It was well known that the partners trusted only family people. That was their thing! His father knew this very well, and deliberately put his son in a tight spot, assuming he would falter and not cope! The thing was, ‘Signal’ was a completely family-run business, all executive positions were held by family members, and the general director was a woman! They were very proud of this and believed that this was the only way to build a successful business.

Roman panicked. Who to take to the negotiations? Surely not the flighty Alisa? Ridiculous! That’s when he remembered the new cleaner. Elvira was good-looking and appeared very decent, she could be trusted and it wasn’t embarrassing to be seen with her in public. So, he called her to his office for a talk:

“Elvira, I have a serious and responsible task for you! I have important negotiations with ‘Signal’ in three days, you’ve probably heard of them. Well, its owners don’t trust partners who don’t have a family. I need you to play along and pretend to be a ‘wife for an hour.’ You don’t need to delve into the intricacies of business, just behave naturally, smile sweetly, and nod occasionally. That’s all. Well, do you agree? I really hope you do! You’re not losing anything, really! On the contrary, you’ll have a pleasant time in a cozy restaurant.”

Elvira was taken aback by such a proposal! She thought the boss was going to scold her, but here was this! She was both scared and flattered at the same time! Thoughts raced through her head: “What if I can’t handle it? What if I let someone down and embarrass myself?” But, on the other hand, Roman was very pleasant to her as a person, so why not help? Such an opportunity certainly comes once in a lifetime!

And she decided:

“Frankly, I’m scared, but I agree! I’ll try not to let you down!”

And they began to discuss the format and details of the upcoming meeting. Although both were very nervous, they were confident they could handle it! Such a thing in business history definitely hadn’t happened before, a company director showing up to a business meeting with a cleaner! No one knew how it would end!

Elvira was all nerves, the meeting was tomorrow, and she had absolutely nothing to wear! Surely not going to a restaurant in jeans, and it wouldn’t hurt to update her hairstyle either! She decided to call Roman Vitalyevich:

“Excuse me, don’t think I’m being forward, but I’ve looked through my wardrobe and realized I have absolutely nothing to wear! I don’t know what to do!”

The man babbled:

“Lord, forgive me! What a fool, I didn’t even think of that! We need to work on your image, and there’s almost no time! Wait at home, I’ll come pick you up now, we’ll sort it out!”

Roman Vitalyevich took Elvira to an expensive boutique and told the accommodating salespeople, who practically rolled out the red carpet upon seeing an important client:

“Ladies, this woman needs a dress that will knock our important guests off their feet. Is the task clear?”

After half an hour, Elvira came out of the fitting room, unrecognizable! A turquoise long flowing dress was simultaneously not vulgar and very seductive, as it highlighted her impeccable figure! Against its backdrop, her gray eyes brightly sparkled!

The man even whistled:

“Great! This is exactly what we need! It suits us. Wrap it up!”

Then he turned to Elvira:

“You are simply enchanting! I’m at a loss for words! Now, let’s head to the salon, we need to add a few touches!”

For several hours, the beauty salon staff worked magic on the client, gave her a gentle manicure, refreshed her hairstyle, did a face mask and massage, and she was simply unrecognizable!

Roman was absolutely speechless, Elvira was already very attractive, but now she resembled a diamond in an expensive cut.

And the hour X arrived! The partners turned out to be very pleasant people, they conversed lively and quite trustfully about everything, Elvira felt quite comfortable and even interested in spending time with such people! She stuck to the script, was restrained, supported the conversation, intuitively knowing when to keep silent and when to just smile sweetly. The negotiations were a success and the contract was signed! The general director of ‘Signal’, a tough, stingy with praise woman, said to Roman at parting:

“Roman Vitalyevich, I admit you made the right choice. Nowadays, it’s so rare to meet a tactful and smart woman who also understands economics well. Truly, a reliable support! With such a wife, you certainly won’t get lost!”

Roman was amazed! Indeed, Elvira was not just a beautiful silent doll! She so skillfully and subtly conducted the conversation, knew how to steer the conversation in the right direction, and did it all so charmingly and unobtrusively!

When the guests dispersed, he poured a full glass of champagne, exhaled, and said:

“Thank you so much, Elechka! I don’t know how to thank you! You were simply outstanding! The contract is in our pocket, which means profits will multiply! I’m surprised! You shouldn’t be fussing with a rag and mop, you deserve more! I will definitely talk to my father and get you a promotion! And also, I want you to know how beautiful and smart you are! Such people are rare nowadays, all taken over by artificial, doll-like beauties who know all the brands of clothes and shoes, but that’s all! But you have natural charm and intelligence! Bravo!
Elvira was very pleased and replied:

“Thank you, Roman Vitalievich! I had a great time! It was like a celebration! Well then, to the bottom! To the success of the deal!”

They happily drank aromatic cool champagne and talked heart-to-heart for a long time. Roman was very likable to Elvira, she felt so easy and comfortable with him, as if they were close people and had known each other for a hundred years!

The happy Roman rushed to the hospital to see his father the next day, so eager for him to appreciate his outstanding success now! Pulling off such a complex deal was no joke! But contrary to his expectations, when Roman told him about the success, his father lashed out at him with accusations:

“Yes, I know, I’ve already been informed! That the contract is signed is good. But that you brought a cleaner as your wife to the meeting at the restaurant is outrageous! What were you thinking? What if she had embarrassed you? Who is she even? Who does she think she is? Why does she interfere where she’s not wanted? One minute she’s saving Alyoska’s child, the next she’s playing at being a wife! Isn’t that taking on too much? Well, invite her to me, I’ll deal with her myself! Turning the company into a circus!”

Roman felt so hurt, right to tears! He said nothing, slammed the door so hard that plaster fell, and ran out of the ward! Anger overwhelmed him: “What was I actually hoping for? I was always a stranger to him, and I will remain so!! All my life I’ve been bending over backwards to please him, and where’s any gratitude! And I even implicated Elvira! Now he’ll give her a hard time too! Well, nothing, I definitely won’t let her be fired! We’ll see who outdoes whom!”

Elvira walked to the hospital on unyielding legs, terribly nervous: “Well, that’s it! The fairy tale is over! Vitaly Sergeevich will grind me into powder! He will definitely fire me, as sure as eggs!”

And sure enough, as soon as she entered and greeted him, the director began to mercilessly scold her:

“I called you, Elvira, for an unpleasant conversation. I was informed that you appeared at a negotiation of huge importance pretending to be my son’s wife! Who gave you such a right? You are nobody, just a cleaner, your job is to mop floors and not interfere, especially in matters you know nothing about!”

Elvira was deeply hurt, as she was humiliated for no reason, and she couldn’t hold back:

“Why are you so harsh? Firstly, Roman Vitalievich himself asked me to do this, and secondly, I am not nobody to you! I have an economics education, I’m studying part-time! And just because I’m an orphan with no one to stand up for me, it doesn’t give you the right to insult me! I never thought you were like this!”

The girl cried bitterly and reached into her purse to grab a handkerchief; she was nervous and dropped a photo of her mother on the floor, the very one that Antonina had given her. It flew right under the businessman’s feet. He bent down, picked it up, looked at it, and suddenly turned pale as a wall! He clutched at his heart and started gasping for air! Elvira was terrified and screamed:

“Lord! Are you okay? Should I call a doctor? I’ll do it right away!”

But the man waved his hands and pointed to the medicine on the nightstand:

“Give me a pill under my tongue, please, oh, something’s caught me again!”

 

After taking the pill, the man caught his breath and asked hoarsely:

“Where did you get this photo? That’s Valentina! My Valechka! My first love! I met her when I was very young. What a beauty and smart girl she was. From an orphanage herself, but her manners, as if she was raised in a noble maiden institute! What a love we had, I remember! I introduced her to my parents, wanted to marry her! But they utterly rejected our relationship! They were categorically against it! So I gave in, left her, I confess! She was probably pregnant too! I persuaded her to have an abortion, even gave her money. I don’t know how her life turned out. And then I married Sveta. She already had a child, Roman, so he’s not my biological son! And it’s been gnawing at me ever since, to be honest! So where did you get her photo from?”

Elvira in shock, she cried even more and barely squeezed out:

“I’m her daughter! And she’s my mother! As you see, she didn’t have the abortion! She gave birth to me, and she died during childbirth! Her friend took me in at first, then chickened out and returned me to the orphanage. I only found out about this a week ago. Oh you! I spent all my childhood in the orphanage dreaming of finding my parents, suffering so much from loneliness, I thought that once I succeeded, I would become so happy, and it would be easier for me! But now I’ve found both my deceased mother and apparently, my father! And it feels so nauseating about everything! Maybe it would’ve been better if I knew nothing!”

The businessman could not recover from the shock, he felt terribly ashamed of his words and actions, he didn’t know what to respond:

“Forgive me, Elvira! I didn’t know, I didn’t think.. Basically, I was wrong! It doesn’t add up in my head! Turns out, you are my biological daughter? What a thing! I never hoped that I would have biological children! Sveta never gave birth to a child for me, so besides Roman, I had no one! But it always bothered me that he was not my own! I don’t know why!”

Elvira suddenly flared up:

“That’s wrong of you! Your son, although not your own, is a very good person! It was you who raised him and made him that way! So you can be proud of your son!”

Vitaly Sergeevich couldn’t settle down:

“Elvira, I still can’t believe what I’ve heard! Would you mind doing a genetic test? Just to be absolutely sure that you are my daughter? Please don’t be offended!”

“As you wish! After everything that’s happened to me this month, nothing surprises me anymore! But it doesn’t really change anything! Our relationship is unlikely to become warmer because of this! Excuse me, I need to collect myself! And also, I’m resigning. After such humiliations and insults, I will not work a day in your company! All the best! Get well!”

Elvira rushed out of the hospital and ran away, not looking where she was going! She felt so bad and disgusted! Why is everything like this? Mommy died, and the father turned out to be a harsh tyrant, and now there’s no job anymore! The full set! She locked herself in her apartment and decided not to go anywhere at all! Let them fire her! For some reason, such apathy overtook her! She just didn’t want to live. Chernysh, sensing his mistress’s mood, started cuddling up to her and licking her hands, looking into her eyes as if encouraging her:

“Hey, what’s up? Keep your chin up! Here I am, your favorite! Aren’t you happy?”

But already the next morning, someone was ringing the doorbell! The little dog barked loudly, sensing a stranger!

Elvira grumbled displeasedly:

“Who’s there, won’t they let me die in peace!”

She was stunned when she saw Roman at the threshold with a cake and a bouquet of flowers! He simply beamed and radiated happiness! He hugged the astonished girl and blurted out:

“Well hello, sister! Lord, how happy I am! Dad told me everything! It’s great that I’m no longer alone in this world! No wonder I liked you right away! Elly!”

The girl sadly said:

“Regarding you, Roman Vitalievich, I’m also glad. It’s easy and good with you! One can only dream of such a brother. But right now, I somehow feel so sick at heart… Probably already fired from work, and spoke with dad in raised tones, I don’t know, I have no emotional closeness with him! Only Chernysh makes me happy, my little positive bundle!”

The man became serious and sat down next to her on the couch:

“Firstly, stop addressing me formally! We’re family! Secondly, dad’s a complicated man, I’ve had quite difficult relationships with him all my life too. But on major issues, he’s a proper and fair man! Thirdly, I have great news, I talked to dad, and you are being transferred to the economic department! And fourthly, stop moping! Now get dressed, grab the puppy, and let’s go for a walk! I’m telling you as your older brother!”

For Elvira, this was so unusual, she was now not alone in this world, she had a brother! How great it was! They walked in the park with the dog for a long time, the dog was happy, barked loudly, and brought them a stick, relatives chatted about everything in the world, as it turned out, they had very similar tastes and interests! Bad mood and sadness immediately flew away, and there was peace in her heart!

When Elvira was transferred to the economic department the next day by order, colleagues initially complained and gossiped:

“Where have you seen such a thing? What economist from a cleaner, tell me? Madhouse, not a company!”

As the information that she was the owner’s daughter had not yet reached the employees, they looked askance at her and deliberately loaded her with complex reports, not really explaining anything. But Elvira was only happy to have finally gotten a proper position and no longer had to drag a mop. Now she was engaged in her favorite business. The girl worked hard, often staying late, and took documents home, and soon her colleagues began to respect her, seeing that everything was always done conscientiously.

While they were getting things done, Vitaly Sergeevich finally conducted a genetic test, and it showed that Elvira was indeed his biological daughter! There was a difficult and unpleasant conversation with his wife, as the woman had no idea about his youthful sins. In the end, she forgave him, after all, they had been together for many years, what now, and all this had happened long before her appearance in his life.

After a long treatment, Vitaly Sergeevich decided it was time for him to retire, especially since his son Roman was adeptly managing the company. But, since he now had two children, he could not offend Elvira, seeing that she was very tenacious and determined, and the businessman made an extraordinary decision. He gathered all the relatives at a big table and solemnly announced:

“My dear ones! I’m old, my health is increasingly playing up, and all these daily shocks and nerves at work are unnecessary for me! And in the end, shouldn’t I give my wife the attention she deserves, having given my whole life to the company, only sporadically and in bits at home! Little Artemchik barely sees me, it’s about time to babysit my own grandson! Therefore, I’ve made the following decision! From this month, the company will be managed by two people, brother and sister, Roman and Elvira! I see that you work excellently in tandem, get along well, and will put all your efforts into making the business of my life grow and prosper!”

Stunned by such trust, Roman was flabbergasted:

“Wow! Thank you, dad! Finally, you appreciated our efforts! We won’t let you down, right, Elly?”

She nodded, herself in shock, how radically her life was changing right this second! And Vitaly Sergeevich added:

“Children! I want to apologize to both of you! To you, Roma, that I always nagged, tested you, and didn’t appreciate you enough. To you, daughter, that I treated your late mother so badly, and didn’t even inquire about her further fate! I could have raised my own daughter for so many years! Well, what’s done is done. But I’m glad that now we are all one big and friendly family, no more secrets and misunderstandings, and it feels warm and good in my heart!”

Everyone teared up at such warm and sincere words, and began to hug each other. Elvira, for the first time in many years of bleak loneliness, felt that she was part of a family, needed and important to someone!

The company’s affairs were booming, work was relentless, and Roman and Elvira worked tirelessly. The new year was approaching, and they decided to organize a corporate event for the employees, so to speak, to unite the team a bit and give people a chance to relax. Roman invited his best friend, Nikita, to the celebration at the restaurant. They had been friends since childhood, were inseparable! But after school, their paths diverged: Roman followed in his father’s footsteps and went into business, while Nikita became a geologist, and for long months went on business trips and traveled. And he had just recently come home for the holiday! Of course, the old friends decided to meet and celebrate the occasion! Just the reason had arisen! They sat at a table and chatted, reminiscing about their school years, and suddenly Nikita asked:

“Listen, Romka. Who’s that girl who’s running everything here? So beautiful and confident! I’ve fallen in love!”

Roman laughed:

 

“That’s my half-sister by father, we now manage the company together. Her name is Elvira! I’ll introduce you now!”

He waved her over, and she approached:

“Sister! Enough worrying and double-checking everything. The table is heaving with snacks, the musicians are trying their hardest, everyone’s relaxing to the full! Everything’s fine! Relax already! Meet my best friend, Nikita! By the way, he’s already fallen in love with you! So sit down with us, or you’ll miss your chance!”

Elvira laughed and greeted the young man! He looked at her so piercingly! It felt like boiling water was poured inside her! She really liked Nikita! He was fun and joking, invited her to dance, made compliments, and didn’t leave her side all evening!

When all the guests dispersed and the restaurant closed, Nikita called a taxi and took Elvira home! She was not against it, and then they lingered outside in the cold in front of the building, like schoolchildren, unable to part, and Elvira decided:

“Nikit, maybe you’ll come in to warm up? We’ll have some hot tea? Chernysh has been waiting for me, I need to walk him!”

Nikita was just waiting for these words and gladly agreed! They walked the dog together, then drank tea with candies, and couldn’t stop talking! They parted only in the early morning, Elvira managed to sleep just a couple of hours, but she didn’t regret it at all! A smile didn’t leave her face, she wanted to laugh and sing! Roman immediately noticed the changes and cunningly glanced at her:

“Dear sister, haven’t you fallen in love, my dear? I’ve never seen you this happy? Come on, confess.”

Elvira blushed and smiled dreamily:

“Well, to be honest, I really liked Nikita! He’s so cool! It’s so easy and good with him! Maybe I did fall in love! What about it?”

Her brother suddenly became sad and serious:

“You see, Nikita is a great guy, he has a golden character, he’s honest and kind! But there’s one thing, though! He can’t sit still for long, that’s why he travels all his life! I’m worried about you, he’ll soon leave for another long geological expedition, and you’ll be crying and missing him! Think carefully, do you need such relationships? Are you ready for them?”

Elvira also got upset, and quietly answered:

“Honestly, Roma, I don’t know! But I understand that I can’t do without him anymore! We’ll live, we’ll see! Okay, let’s get to work! Some investigator you are!”

One day, a secretary, Elena, knocked on Elvira’s office door and brought in a huge bouquet of roses! There was a note “To the best and most desired, the sweetest, loveliest, there’s no one more beautiful in the world, be my Elly!”

The girl simply melted from such romance! Not only flowers but also poetry! How pleasant! And a moment later, a call came:

“Hello, did you receive my little present? If you don’t mind, I’ll pick you up at six, got two tickets to a concert, I promise, it will be very interesting!”

Elvira was so delighted, her heart fluttered! She happily agreed:

“I’m all for it! I’d love to spend another evening with such an interesting gentleman. The flowers and poetry are simply impeccable! Thank you, I’m touched! But there’s one problem, what about my Chernysh? He needs a walk! And there’s absolutely no time for that!”

Nikita solved it all right away:

“Don’t worry, I’ll come earlier, you give me the keys, and I’ll walk Chernysh! So everything’s fine! He seems to have liked me!”

And so their whirlwind romance began, Elvira and Nikita couldn’t get enough of each other, they were so good together! The New Year’s holidays passed, and it was time for Nikita to leave. He put it off until the last moment and said nothing to Elly, understanding that she would be terribly upset! And then, when his things were packed, he decided to have a conversation:

“Elly, my love! I’m leaving early tomorrow morning! I so don’t want to part with you, but this is my job! It’s just for two months! I’ll be back at the end of March! And we’ll be together again!”

The girl suddenly got up and sharply replied:

“And you’re only telling me about this now? I thought we were serious! Or how do you imagine our further relationship! You’ll be away for months, and I’ll have to be content with crumbs of your attention? Is that normal? Well no, I don’t need such relationships! I want a real family, a child, like everyone else! If you don’t need that, then it’s better we say goodbye right now! All the best!”

 

And she ran out into the street in tears! Everything inside her was boiling with anger: “How could this be? So he used me and left? What a fool I am! And I had to fall in love with him! And Roma warned that this would happen! Well, let him roll on to his expedition! I’ll live without him!”

Nikita was worried, tried to call Elly, but she stubbornly didn’t answer the phone, mortally offended at her fiancé! So they parted, still in a quarrel!

The man believed that he was doing everything right, after all, he was a geologist, it was his calling, his beloved job, the romance! How could he live without it? But days and weeks went by, and nothing pleased him anymore! Neither singing by the campfire nor searching for minerals, his heart was torn there, to her, to this beautiful gray-eyed princess!

Elvira, try as she might, couldn’t get her romantic out of her head! She remembered those very roses and poems and carefully kept that note as a talisman!

Roman, of course, saw her state and tried to console her as best he could:

“Don’t be sad, sister! It hurts to look at you! You’ll make up yet! Nikitka is a fool, of course, I wouldn’t have left such a beauty! What’s so special about him, did the world converge on him? Want me to introduce you to another friend? Or shall we go somewhere, have some fun?”

Elvira suddenly burst into tears:

“I don’t want anything without him, you understand? I love him and that’s it! Seems like I’m angry, but I still can’t forget him! I felt that we were a perfect match! Something like this will never happen again! Forget them all! Give me your report, I’ll check it!”

On the weekend, Elvira and Roman decided to visit their father, check on everyone, especially little Artemchik. He was the family’s beloved! The men went to grill kebabs, and Elvira and the businessman’s wife, Svetlana, set the table. Little Artemchik cheerfully rattled a new toy in his walker and babbled in his own way!

Everything was ready, and a whole crowd barged into the house, Roman carrying smoking kebabs, father tasty sausages, and behind them came Nikita, dressed as Santa Claus, with a real beard and a bag over his shoulder!

Elvira was simply stunned and couldn’t understand how he appeared there! Miracles. Nothing else!

The men smiled cunningly, and took their seats at the table, and Nikita loudly began:

“Hello everyone! Here are my gifts! To you, Svetlana Alekseevna, a lace shawl, handmade, so your shoulders don’t get cold on winter evenings! To you, Vitaly Sergeevich, a real briar pipe, I know you adore these! To you, my friend Roma, a collectible bottle of wine from the early nineteenth century, to you, my little rascal, such a pistol! And now the main gift, for my princess! He took out a box from his pocket, opened it, and handed it to Elly, inside was an unearthly beautiful ring! The young man, as befits, knelt down, and earnestly said:

“Elly, I confess, I behaved like a pig, just took off and left! Only in separation from you did I realize that without you nothing is dear to me, even my beloved travels and expeditions! Forgive me and marry me! I swear, I won’t leave you for a step, and we’ll enjoy distant countries together, on vacation! Do you agree?”

The girl was so happy that she couldn’t control her emotions, she immediately threw herself on Nikita’s neck and burst into tears! She kissed his prickly cheeks, they smelled of frost and something very familiar, and whispered:

“I agree! I love you so much! I can’t do without you either! I won’t let you go anywhere, just know that!”

Everyone became emotional, started congratulating the groom and bride, and wishing them happiness! The dinner was a great success! Now Nikita was part of their big and friendly family! Elvira dreamily sat by the fireplace and listened as the men strummed cheerful campfire songs on the guitar, and she felt so good inside! She thought casually: “And it all started with that found baby in a basket! Thank you, Artemchik! If it weren’t for that incident, she wouldn’t have found her relatives and met the most beloved man on earth! Miracles do happen, she now knew that for sure!”

 

Svetlana indifferently pushed the plate of borscht away from her, and in a careless, almost solemn tone, announced:

 

“Svetlana, I am leaving you!”

At these unexpected words, the 45-year-old woman dropped the cup from her hands, which shattered into pieces on the floor. Svetlana looked at her husband and realized from his serious expression that he was not joking. She froze, silently wrapping her arms around herself.

Svetlana had lived what she believed to be a happy marriage with her husband for twenty-five years. She loved her Denis with all her heart, considering him a reliable, faithful husband and a wonderful father. But these strange words struck her painfully like a whip, leaving her shocked. Svetlana still hadn’t fully grasped the reality of what was happening. She raised a confused look to her husband and asked in a breaking voice:

“How can you leave? Where to, Denis? We’ve been together for a quarter of a century!”

“Exactly!” the man replied irritably, abruptly standing up and glaring at his wife, “I have lived with you for twenty-five years. But what have you become during this time? Tell me, where is the young, beautiful, slim, carefree girl I fell in love with? Just look at what you’ve turned into! You’ve put on weight, started graying, and now these annoying wrinkles have appeared. That would be half the trouble, but all you think about are cutlets, borscht, cleaning, and laundry. No wonder I’m sick of this life. There’s absolutely nothing to talk about with you. And I’m sorry, but I don’t want to bury myself alive. I deserve more. I hope we can divorce quietly, without hysterics. I’ve fallen in love with another woman, and you need to understand that. She’s younger, more interesting, more beautiful, and expecting my child. Soon, I will become a father again, so please let me go without a scandal. I haven’t loved you for a long time, Svet, I’m sorry.”

Svetlana slumped into a chair and clutched her head with both hands. Denis’s words inflicted unbearable pain. Svetlana couldn’t accept that the man she had dedicated her life to, for whom she had sacrificed so much, had turned away from her so cruelly. Denis had exchanged a loyal, loving, caring wife for someone younger and more attractive.

“Go,” she managed to say, her head bowed low.

Denis left the kitchen silently. He quickly packed his things and left, announcing at the door that he would file for divorce soon. Svetlana cried all day. By evening, she was so exhausted from the searing pain tearing her soul apart that she fell asleep right at the table. She woke up after midnight but didn’t go to her bedroom. She gently leaned against the wall, sitting with her legs tucked under her, until morning. In the morning, Svetlana had to go to work. She met the dawn with a weary, haunting appearance. Svetlana realized she had no desire to work, and it was a struggle to even get up. She called her boss and said she was sick and couldn’t come to work, asked for unpaid leave, and drowned herself in her sorrows. She stopped cooking, eating, taking care of herself, and managing the house. From morning to evening, Svetlana spent in bed, staring blankly at one spot, mourning her fate.

This continued until her son, Artem, unexpectedly visited with his young wife. Artem wanted to surprise his mother, so he came without warning. On the way, he bought her favorite cake. Artem was used to seeing his mother always cheerful, used to coming to a clean, well-kept home where the sweet smell of fresh baking always came from the kitchen, so the scene that greeted him was a real shock.

“Mommy, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick? What happened? You don’t look like yourself,” Artem worried, rushing to his mother, who was sitting in the kitchen, thoughtfully staring at the chandelier.

“Your father left me,” Svetlana confessed in a trembling voice, her gaze dimming as she looked at her son, stunned by the news.

“How… left?” Artem struggled to say, holding his mother’s hand tightly.

 

 

Svetlana told her son and daughter-in-law everything that had happened in their family. The young couple exchanged surprised looks. They began to comfort the newly tearful Svetlana, convincing her that life hadn’t stopped, that a new, happy life awaited her ahead. Svetlana, however, shook her head in despair and said she had no future left.

“Svetlana Nikolaevna, I beg you, hold on. Everything will work out, you’ll see. You’re a young, beautiful, interesting woman. You’ll meet your destiny and be happy,” Marina tried to comfort her mother-in-law, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

“It’s no use calming me. I understand everything. I’m not that young girl Denis fell in love with twenty-five years ago. My life is over. It has lost its meaning. What do I have to hope for at the twilight of my years? I’ve put on weight, gone gray, wrinkles have appeared…”

The words of her son and daughter-in-law did not comfort Svetlana. She fell into an even deeper depression, realizing that her youth was irretrievably gone, and she was completely alone. Artem thought long about how to help his deeply suffering mother. He had been deeply attached to her since childhood, so he couldn’t bear to see her in such a distressing state.

Then, the spouses decided to involve Marina’s grandmother, whom Svetlana had always sincerely loved. Tamara Ivanovna was a very wise and insightful woman. She promised her granddaughter and her spouse that Svetlana would soon live a happy, full life again.

Svetlana was sorting through old things when her phone rang. Seeing her son’s number on the screen, she immediately grabbed the mobile and put it to her ear.

“Hello, son. I’m fine. No need to worry about me. Everything is really good. How are you? What?! Poor Tamara Ivanovna! Of course, I’ll go to her in the village, yes-yes, take care. I’ll be there by evening. Tell Marina she doesn’t need to worry and can work with a calm mind. Agreed.”

Svetlana hung up the phone and immediately started dressing. She was planning to go to the village to the ailing grandmother of her daughter-in-law. Artem had informed his mother that Tamara Ivanovna was ill and needed care. He also mentioned that Marina couldn’t get time off from work and was in despair, not knowing what to do. Svetlana gladly volunteered to help her daughter-in-law’s grandmother, with whom she had formed a warm relationship. Svetlana also hoped that caring for the sick elderly woman would distract her from her sad, nagging thoughts. She quickly packed everything necessary and set off for the village.

Tamara Ivanovna was not only a wise but also an artistic woman. In her youth, she had acted in plays, so she easily pretended to be a sick person needing constant attention. Svetlana believed in her illness and began treating the elderly woman.

“Svetochka, darling, please go to my neighbor. He has hawthorn in his garden, which is very good for the heart. Konstantin promised to bring me a berry infusion, but he forgot.”

Svetlana went to Tamara Ivanovna’s neighbor to get the healing infusion. He lived in the house opposite. The woman was delighted by the man’s plot. She immediately understood that the man living in the neighboring house was a real craftsman, a master of all trades. Svetlana loudly called out to Konstantin, and he appeared after a few seconds. He opened the gate and let Svetlana in, politely greeting her. Svetlana looked around the well-kept yard with interest, completely enchanted by its beauty. She even felt as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. The man himself also made a pleasant impression on her. Svetlana was so captivated by the surrounding enchanting beauty that she even forgot why she had come.

“Come into the house. I’ll treat you to some tea and pie,” Konstantin offered in a warm voice, curiously examining his neighbor’s guest.

“Thank you, but I need to get back to Tamara Ivanovna. I’m afraid to leave her alone for too long,” Svetlana replied, trying to imagine the image of the woman who was the mistress of this house and Konstantin’s wife.

Svetlana took the infusion and returned to the elderly woman, who sincerely sighed, complaining of dizziness and rapid breathing. She was glad that Svetlana had a good impression of her neighbor, who was indeed a worthy man and, importantly, a free man.

“My neighbor’s a good man,” muttered Tamara Ivanovna, sitting at the table with Svetlana and finishing her tea, “Men like him are hard to find these days. He’s industrious, responsible, kind, and knows how to do everything around the house and yard. A former military man. Now retired. Imagine, he left a spacious apartment in the city center and moved to live in the village. He bought the neighboring house in a sorry state. There was no garden, no vegetable garden, nor such a beautiful yard there. Konstantin did everything with his own hands. Not just a man, but gold, it’s just a pity he hasn’t found a kindred soul. Completely alone.”

The next morning, Tamara Ivanovna, taking advantage of the fact that Svetlana was doing laundry in the yard, twisted the fuses on the meter and cut off all the electricity in the house.

“Svetochka, my dear, come here,” the elderly woman called her guest.

Svetlana hurried into the house:

“Yes, Tamara Ivanovna, did you call me? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but something’s happened with our meter. There’s no electricity in the house. My soap opera is about to start. And I can’t live without it. Go get Konstantin. Let him look at it and fix it.”

Svetlana obediently went for the neighbor, who came to Tamara Ivanovna’s and fixed everything in a matter of minutes. The light was back on in the elderly woman’s house. At lunch, Tamara Ivanovna asked Svetlana to bake her favorite strawberry pie. Svetlana fulfilled the elderly woman’s request, glad that she had regained her appetite. During tea time, Tamara Ivanovna casually said:

 

 

“Svetochka, take a piece of pie to Konstantin. We need to thank him for fixing the meter. I didn’t miss my soap opera. Go to him. He’s probably in the yard doing something, even not having had lunch.”

Svetlana nodded and, cutting a large piece of pie, went to the neighbor. Konstantin was pleased by Svetlana’s visit and said that the pie was just in time, as he hadn’t eaten anything since morning. Kostya offered Svetlana to have tea with him, and she couldn’t refuse. They set up a tea party in the garden and talked for several hours. Konstantin told Svetlana about his military service, and she listened to him, holding her breath. Time with Konstantin flew by unnoticed. Svetlana returned to Tamara Ivanovna under a pleasant impression.

Soon, Konstantin himself began to visit Tamara Ivanovna and Svetlana. He visited the “sick” neighbor, brought her medicinal herbs, helped put things in order in her yard. Tamara Ivanovna watched with a mischievous, playful smile as Konstantin and Svetlana, forgetting everything in the world, engagedly talked to each other and understood that her plan had worked brilliantly. The man and woman didn’t notice how they had grown attached to each other.

One day, during another tea party, Konstantin told Svetlana about what had happened in his life a year ago.

“I moved here a year ago after my wife left me. I’ll be honest, it was a tough time for me. I realized I needed to drastically change my life. In the village, I found myself, forgot the past, and learned to be happy in the present.”

Svetlana looked at her neighbor in amazement, thinking about the woman who had decided to leave such a man as Konstantin. She was sure that Konstantin’s ex-wife had regretted her decision more than once. Svetlana involuntarily compared Konstantin to Denis and realized that her ex-husband was significantly inferior to Tamara Ivanovna’s neighbor. Konstantin was a real man, a person who could keep his word. The woman increasingly caught herself thinking that she had stopped remembering her ex-husband and thinking about where he was, what was happening with him. Svetlana simply enjoyed the carefree life in the village, the summer sun, and pleasant, inspiring communication with a new acquaintance. But Svetlana’s mood changed dramatically when she realized that her vacation was coming to an end and soon she would have to return to the city, to her previous life. The remaining few days flew by unnoticed. Tamara Ivanovna stopped playing the role of a sick woman and declared that she had recovered, thanks to Svetlana’s relentless care.

Svetlana reluctantly packed her things in the evening and went outside to say goodbye to the village, which had become her home and beloved. She didn’t notice that Konstantin was heading towards her.

“Leaving?” he asked thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the saddened woman.

“Yes,” Svetlana replied regretfully, “It’s time. Tamara Ivanovna is on the mend. My vacation is over. The city awaits me.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it. Are you sure there’s nothing else keeping you here?”

The man looked into the eyes of his confused neighbor and timidly took her hand.

“Maybe you’ll stay? I see that you don’t want to leave. And I don’t want this either. Svetlana, I’ve grown so attached to you that I can’t imagine living without you.”

“Konstantin,” Svetlana stammered, startled by the unexpected, “I really have to leave. I have my own life in the city. Work, apartment, friends, son.”

With these words, Svetlana tried to convince herself first and foremost of the correctness of her decision. With all her heart, she didn’t want to part with Konstantin, but she was afraid that staying in the village would be a mistake. But when Konstantin unexpectedly hugged Svetlana around the waist and drew her to him, all fears and doubts immediately dissipated. She realized she had hopelessly fallen in love with Tamara Ivanovna’s neighbor and couldn’t now live far from him. Svetlana willingly accepted his embrace.

“Don’t leave,” Konstantin whispered, his hot, intermittent breath burning the woman’s skin.

Svetlana understood that, as much as she wanted to stay with the man she loved in his small, cozy paradise, she couldn’t just abandon everything she had before meeting him.

“I have my job in the city,” she whispered tremblingly, pressing herself against Konstantin with her whole body.

“Then I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. I can’t be without you. I’ll be near, just call.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Svetlana invited the man with her, without whom she could no longer imagine her life. He moved into her apartment. By that time, Svetlana was already divorced from Denis, and she and Kostya had filed an application at the registry office. The trembling feelings remarkably transformed the woman. Now she radiated happiness, which was felt in every word, look, and gesture. Svetlana blossomed like a flower that, after a long drought, finally soaked up the warm rain. Her son and daughter-in-law sincerely rejoiced at the changes happening with Svetlana. They thanked Tamara Ivanovna, who gently and delicately brought together two lonely souls in need of love and tenderness. Every weekend, Svetlana and Konstantin spent in the village and always visited the elderly woman, coming to her with gifts.

A year later, the past unexpectedly reminded itself. It happened on a sunny Saturday morning, when the spouses, as usual, were getting ready to go to the village for the weekend. Konstantin was at the store. Suddenly there was a ring at the door, and Svetlana rushed to open it, thinking her husband had forgotten to take his keys with him. She was stunned by the surprise when she saw Denis with a one-year-old boy on the doorstep.

“Denis?!” Svetlana exclaimed, throwing up her hands, “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Svetlana,” the man said timidly, “Will you let me in?”

“Denis, why have you come? I thought everything between us was long over.”

“Svetka, you always understood me better than anyone, generously forgave all my mistakes. Forgive me now too. I know you love me. I came to ask you for another chance. Let’s start all over.”

From her ex-husband, Svetlana learned that the woman he had left her for had abandoned him with a one-year-old child in her arms and ran away with a young, promising man. Denis was forced to take care of the baby and pay for the rent of the apartment they lived in. Svetlana understood that her ex-husband was looking for an easy way out, that it wasn’t love that brought him to the doorstep of the apartment where he too had once lived.

“Denis, I now have another family, a husband whom I love. I’m sorry for your son, but I can’t help. There can be no talk of your return. You should understand that from now on, I live my own life, in which there is no place for you. Please leave. You’ve already made your choice.”

“Husband?! Family?! You couldn’t have gotten married so quickly! You loved me…” Denis shook his head in disbelief, then laughed loudly.

Before Svetlana could respond, Konstantin, who had returned from the store, appeared on the threshold. He looked questioningly first at his wife and then at Denis, who at that moment understood everything.

“Honey, I couldn’t find the cake, we’ll stop by the supermarket on the way. And we have guests?”

“The person mistook the door and is already leaving,” the woman replied calmly, and after politely saying goodbye to Denis, returned to the kitchen with her husband.

The ex-husband was forced to admit defeat and leave. He left, bitterly regretting what he had done a year ago. Svetlana mentally thanked her ex-husband for leaving her. Only by meeting Konstantin did she realize that it was habit, not love, that had kept her next to Denis. They were completely different people. Svetlana hugged Konstantin tightly, feeling that she had found her true happiness.

Semyon Markovich, an elderly but very well-groomed man known as a millionaire and owner of several firms and companies, sat in the police chief’s office with his head bowed, ready to sink through the floor. He was being reprimanded like a little boy!

The police chief could no longer contain his emotions:

“Dear Semyon Markovich! This is beyond all limits! We’ve already turned a blind eye to your grandson’s antics many times. But this time he has outdone himself! To race on the highway in a delirious state, smash both his own and our patrol car, and then fight with an authority figure. This is too much… With all my respect for you, I cannot overlook this. Vladimir is now in the hospital under guard, and then he’ll serve time, and that’s final. Perhaps prison will knock some sense into him!”

“I understand, I lost the boy, he’s completely out of control. But please, don’t get too heated. He’s still my grandson… Give me one week, and I will take drastic measures, and my rascal will never cause you problems again,” the businessman pleaded tearfully.

Semyon Markovich left the police station red as a boiled lobster and angry as the devil. He got into his luxurious car and ordered the driver:

“Take me to the hospital, I’m going to deal with this scoundrel!”

And he tiredly closed his eyes and pondered, “When and how did I lose Volodya?” going through life’s fragments in his head like duplicates in a film.

In his younger years, together with his wife, Zinaida, they worked at a research institute. They lived modestly, honestly, like all Soviet people, but happily and peacefully. They raised their son Matvey, pouring all their soul into him, sparing no time—and he grew up to be an excellent guy, graduated brilliantly from an economic institute. In the tough nineties, jobs were scarce, and wages were even worse, no money at all. That’s when Semyon Markovich turned to business. The son, still young, helped in everything; they went through everything together! They fought off “roofing” and survived the default. And the business started, spun, and gradually grew into a powerful network.

Naturally, such a business industry took a colossal amount of effort, health, and most importantly nerves. Meanwhile, the son married successfully, and a grandson was born. They named him Volodya. The businessman rejoiced, thinking of handing over all affairs to his son in his old age and enjoying his rest.

But his dreams did not come true! A cursed accident shattered the oligarch’s life to pieces! The son and his wife were still alive when the ambulance arrived, but despite all the doctors’ efforts, the couple died, the injuries were incompatible with life. The culprit of the accident, a young and drunk reckless driver, was sentenced to a long prison term, Semyon Markovich made sure of it, but what use was it! It wouldn’t bring his son back.

Three-year-old Volodya became an orphan. Perhaps, if not for the grandson, the businessman would have broken down, unable to bear such grief. And Zinaida continuously cried a river and turned all dark—a joke, the only son, the heir, the hope and support gone from life…

A month after the funeral, Semyon sternly told his wife:

“Here’s the thing, mother! Let’s stop the sniveling. We need to get our boy back on his feet!”

Indeed, Zina slowly thawed in caring for the little one. She loved Volodya with an unconditional, blind love, endlessly indulged him. The boy was allowed absolutely everything! He got used to commanding and demanding! Any whim was fulfilled immediately, even if it was far from normal.

And Semyon Markovich dived into business, needed to strengthen the capital, so, of course, he didn’t see much and didn’t notice at home. He came home late and exhausted, falling into bed without strength. In rare moments of family rest, he showered his grandson with expensive gifts, trying to compensate for the lack of attention and time.

Thus, Volodya grew up arrogant, self-satisfied, a brat, and a major. From an early age, he understood—grandpa is always busy, and grandma will do everything and will keep quiet if necessary. The main thing was to press on pity, saying, ‘I’m an orphan, without a father and mother, and you would scold me too?’ This phrase worked magically on Zina, she immediately became blind and deaf to the antics of her dear grandson.

Vova studied terribly, was rude, dared to teachers, made greasy jokes to girls, and even got physical. After all, he knew nothing would happen to him, the school was private, and granddad—a patron.

In university, the same story—the guy was only formally listed there. He ran to discos all night, and came home only in the morning, usually in a delirious state, and fell asleep, sometimes even without bothering to take off his shoes.

Zina, of course, tried to scold her grandson in the morning:

“Volodya, come to breakfast. We need to talk seriously. How long will this disgraceful behavior continue? I’ll tell grandpa everything! Look, your late father, unlike you, was a smart man, studied excellently, built a career, and you!”—tears always welled up in the woman’s eyes at that moment.

“Granny, what breakfast? Don’t nag, my head is splitting! And don’t threaten me with grandpa, he’ll grumble, and that’s it. All I hear is: ‘Father this, father that…’ Who cares about studying nowadays? It’s boring!!”—the young man snapped back.

Time passed, Zina increasingly gave up, got sick, and couldn’t calmly watch as her beloved Vovchik burned his life away and ruined it, and last year the woman passed away. Semyon Markovich withdrew, emaciated, and for a while completely abandoned Volodya, deeply grieving the heavy loss of his beloved Zina. And when he came to his senses, looked around, he realized that he had completely lost his grandson. The boy completely went off the rails, became aggressive, evil, and arrogant. And today, the scoundrel, what he pulled off! Well, no, something has to be decided radically!

 

 

The man had a cunning plan… He instructed the security about everything and entered the room. Volodya lay on the cot, no visible fractures. Just a couple of abrasions and bruises.

“Well, hello, grandson,” the man began.

“Hi, grandpa. Don’t scold, I dented the car pretty bad, just happened, I’m not to blame… And here’s another problem,” and the guy tugged his hand in handcuffs. “You’ll fix it, right?”—the young man asked ingratiatingly.

“Of course, don’t worry, it’s already settled. Get dressed quickly and into the car. Don’t remove his handcuffs,” he ordered the security and left.

“Hey, grandpa, what are you doing?”—the guy was puzzled.

If he only knew what was to come… They drove for a long time on dusty, bumpy roads, about eight hours. The guy was hysterical and complained:

“Where are you taking me? Grandpa, what’s the matter? What are these silly games?”—the young man shouted.

“Good game, called work therapy. You’ll find out soon!”—Semyon Markovich barked.

The young man immediately quieted down. “Better not anger grandpa now,” he decided and even dozed off.

“Wake up, Volodya, we’ve arrived,” the businessman smirked.

The guy rubbed his eyes and couldn’t understand anything. Some remote village, a dilapidated house, hardly a fence. Why they were here, the guy didn’t understand.

“So, my beloved grandson. Listen here. Since you think you’re grown-up enough to drink, party, smash cars, and fight with the police—all these entertainments at my expense, I might add. Then be ready for independent life! And this is now your home. There’s a week’s supply of food in the basement, nothing fancy, just the essentials. Here’s some money for bread, also for a week. After that, you’re on your own! I’m not sponsoring you anymore, you’re an adult. Don’t look for me. If you think of coming back—you’ll end up in jail, there’s still a case open against you, I’ll make sure of it.

As he got into the car, Semyon Markovich waved to the security, the bodyguards removed the handcuffs from the guy and drove off, leaving a cloud of dust behind…

Volodya was in shock! He couldn’t believe what was happening. The first night the grandson slept dressed on an old dusty, sagging sofa. He believed it was a joke, grandpa decided to teach him a lesson, he’d come in the morning and take him away. Surely he wouldn’t really leave his beloved grandson in such a hole.

The next day, closer to noon, the guy realized that grandpa wasn’t coming for him. He wanted to call Semyon Markovich, press on pity as always, but discovered that in this God-forsaken place, the network didn’t catch at all.

The guy was overtaken by anger: “Oh well? Fine, think about it! I’ll live on my own! What am I, little? They’ll miss me in a week and take me back, they can’t go anywhere!”—the young man fumed.

Hunger is no auntie, Volodya had to fuss about the household for the first time in his life. And living in a pigsty was disgusting. Dust and dirt everywhere. Whether you like it or not, you had to go to the well for water, wash the floors, and sweep with a broom…

Unaccustomed, the guy was exhausted in one day so that he fell asleep without back legs, and the old sofa seemed like a soft featherbed to him. Two weeks passed, no sign of Semyon Markovich. The money for bread had long run out, and the food was also running low. The guy started to panic. He made a makeshift fishing rod, dug up worms in the yard, and decided to go fishing at a local pond. Nearby, a villager was fishing from a boat. After laughing enough at Volodya’s futile attempts to catch anything, the man took pity and decided to help the guy. That’s how they met. The fisherman was named Grisha, he worked on a farm in the neighboring village, and fished at the pond, just for the soul.

“Grisha, where can you make decent money around here? Because my finances have run out, and grandpa still hasn’t come for me, he must be really mad,” the young man asked.

Grigory laughed:

“Well, you give! Did you fall from the moon? It’s immediately clear—you’re from the city. Yeah, you can’t find work here even with a torch during the day. To have a penny—you have to work hard. Want, come tomorrow to the farm, we always need working hands. Then we’ll see, maybe you’ll fit for something. Although by the look of you, you’re not used to work,” the man smirked.

“And that’s thanks,” Volodya muttered resentfully. The prospect of working on a farm didn’t impress him at all, but there was nothing else to do.

So began the working weekdays of the young farmhand. At first, the guy was angry, terribly tired, his hands covered with calluses from heavy work, and the terrible stench from the cowshed. But seeing how skillfully and deftly Grigory and the other men did their work, he became ashamed to whine and complain.

Chatting with simple laborers, sweating under the scorching sun, it dawned on Volodya how hard each earned penny was and how it was valued.

Finally, on a day off, a luxurious foreign car pulled up to the house. The guy joyfully jumped out of the house as he was:

“Hooray, finally I’ve suffered enough, grandpa came!”—Volodya rejoiced.

But to his surprise, the father’s attorney got out of the car and delivered terrible news to the young man:

“Accept my condolences, Vladimir! Your grandfather, Semyon Markovich, has passed away. I’ve brought you his will. Please, review it.”

The young man took the document with trembling hands and read it three times before he grasped the meaning of the written words. All his capital and property, the grandfather bequeathed to assist orphanages and shelters. And about him, Volodya, not a word in the will!

The attorney left, and the young man just stood there, rooted to the porch, stupefied. Then he mechanically took a towel and trudged to the pond to refresh himself and come to his senses. He saw nothing before him, only one thought spun in his head: “Grandpa… How could you! And now I’m destitute… I have nothing but this dilapidated shack! Oh grandpa! What a lesson you taught!”—the young man lamented to himself.

He was pulled out of his state of shock by a scream and thrashing in the middle of the pond. Someone was drowning and desperately calling for help! Volodya, without thinking, jumped into the water and with great difficulty pulled the girl ashore. By that time, she had already stopped breathing. The guy feverishly tried to remember how to perform first aid. Trying his best, he no longer hoped for a miracle. Finally, the girl coughed and began to pink up. The young man fell onto the grass relieved: “Thank God! She woke up!”

 

 

The stranger began to come to her senses, her body shook despite the heat. Volodya picked her up in his arms, wrapped her in a towel, and shouted:

“Speak, where do you live, drowned maiden!”

The girl, barely moving her lips, said:

“The chairman’s house, I’m his daughter, my name is Tanya,” and closed her eyes again.

Vova rushed with Tanya in his arms to her house, although the path was not close. With his last strength, he knocked on the window and gate. A dog in the yard barked loudly and a minute later the chairman himself appeared on the threshold.

“My God, daughter, Tanya! What happened to her?”—the man shouted.

“Take your drowned maiden. Barely revived her, thought I wouldn’t save her,” and the young man handed the girl over to her father.

“Oh, foolish girl! What did she think of! It’s all my fault, old fool! Thank you, boy, I’ll never forget. Come inside. Rest, come to your senses. You’re barely standing,” the man commanded.

They put Tanya to bed. Near her, her mother fussed, they called a paramedic. Thank God, everything was fine, the girl just had a severe shock and hypothermia. They gave her a sedative, and the daughter fell asleep.

In the kitchen, Volodya and the chairman talked and drank cold kvass. He said:

“You see, I found a good fiancé for Tanya, well-to-do, we even asked for her hand. But she didn’t like him. Daughter cried, begged me, pleaded not to marry her off, but I insisted and wouldn’t budge. That’s why she decided to drown herself in despair. I’ll never forgive myself! And who are you? I don’t know you, have you been in the village long?”

Volodya didn’t lie or dodge and poured out everything to the chairman. It even felt better for him. The guy had long wanted to talk and consult with someone about what to do next.

“Well, you’ve made a mess, boy!” the man stretched out.

“Know what? You seem like a good guy. Did a good deed, saved my daughter. I’ll help you. Come work for me as a driver. I’ll give you some logs, you’ll fix the hut. Look, you won’t perish if you don’t drink the bitter,” the chairman offered.

“I agree!”—Volodya rejoiced.

Things really started to improve gradually. The young man had golden hands, he relaid the stove in the house for winter, built a new fence, and also a bathhouse. Volodya befriended Tanya. They walked long in the evenings and talked sweetly. He melted at her tender figure, red unruly hair, and soft, cat-like grace. Volodya was amazed at himself, how could he have liked those glamorous city girls with empty eyes before?

It turned out, life in the village wasn’t as bad as it seemed initially. Especially in the evening, when the fog rose and the evening coolness, the stars shone, the herbs intoxicatingly smelled, and the cicadas crackled. Gradually, the young people grew closer and fell in love. Tanya’s father was only happy about this, saw the daughter happy, Volodya cared and loved her.

As winter approached, Volodya ordered logs and chopped them in the yard. Suddenly, the dog Bim started barking loudly. “Who could it be?” the young man thought.

Volodya was speechless when grandpa climbed out of the car! He rushed to him, not believing what was happening, and hugged him to the point of crunching, almost crying with joy:

“Grandpa! Dear! You’re alive? How glad I am!”

Semyon Markovich was also amazed by the metamorphoses. The hut was excellent, order all around, everything house-like. The grandson, rosy-cheeked, grown-up, and so adult. And no trace remained of the former whining major.

“Forgive me, grandson, that I deceived you! I’m alive! I just didn’t know how else to knock some sense into you. Yes, I couldn’t stand it, decided to visit, missed you terribly!”—and the businessman became emotional and burst into tears.

“Come in, grandpa. I’ll make some tea. Are you hungry? I have tasty meat, and excellent cabbage soup!”

“Wow! Did you learn to cook?” the man was amazed.

“You know, grandpa, thank you! I learned to live here!”

“Well, that’s good. Then shall we go home? Since the lesson was useful?” said the millionaire.

“Honestly, grandpa, I don’t want to! I fell in love with a girl, Tanya, want to marry her. I’m satisfied with the work. I like it here. The metropolis is not for me. Bustle, malice, everything there is so fake, no time to look back and catch your breath. You come to me, to the wedding, and in general. I’ll always be glad to see you! We’ll steam in the bathhouse, go fishing. And I don’t want money, when you earn it yourself, you appreciate it much more.

“Finally, I hear the words of a real man. I’m proud of you, Volodya. And I respect your decision. Now it’s not scary to die!”

Grandpa and grandson embraced and talked for a long time about everything.

Marina and Oleg had lived together for ten years. They had experienced so much during these years—a wedding, children, cozy family holidays, trips to the sea in an old car. Sometimes she was amazed at how quickly it all flew by, leaving no substantial traces on her soul. But if you looked a little deeper, beyond this facade of well-being, there were dark spots that only she noticed.

Oleg often repeated that he had the final say at home. His words sounded as if there were no doubts about their correctness. Gradually, Marina realized that her opinion was void. She dedicated herself to the children, the household, while he made all the important decisions. Whenever Marina tried to express any opinion, Oleg would dismiss it:

“Take care of the home. I’ll handle the rest.”

She got used to not arguing. She remained silent, obeyed the rules he set. But as the years passed, this became increasingly difficult.

“Maybe we could visit my parents this weekend?” she asked once.

Without looking up from his phone, Oleg replied:

“To the countryside? Are you out of your mind? We need to rest properly, not roam around villages. If you want to see your parents, go alone. I’m not taking the kids there.”

She fell silent. Something inside her stung as if someone had put her in her place again. Don’t argue, don’t object, just accept everything as it is.

The children were the meaning of her life. For them, she endured, and for them, she tried to preserve the fragile comfort of the family. She was soft but not weak. Over the years of concessions and compromises, she had become accustomed to putting herself second.

But Oleg was different. Authoritative, confident in his rightness, he considered himself the head of the family and felt entitled to decide everything at his discretion. Working in a good position, he was sure this gave him the right to set the rules at home.

One evening, he came home, beaming with pleasure:

“Marina, I have news. I’ve been offered a new job. We’re moving. It’s a step forward, with prospects.”

Marina froze, disbelieving her ears:

“Moving? But where? What about the kids’ school? I’ve just settled into a new job…”

“That doesn’t matter,” Oleg waved dismissively. “You know this is better for everyone. The kids will adapt, and you’ll find a new job, no problem.”

“Oleg, but we haven’t even discussed this…”

“Marin, don’t complicate things. I provide for us, and this is the best option for our family. I’ve already decided.”

Marina was silent. Again, she was not asked. She was again just a wife, whose role was to support, follow, and remain in the shadow of her husband’s decisions.

The next day, Marina felt it was time. After the children had gone to school, at the table, not yet having laid out the plates, she spoke:

“Oleg, we need to talk about moving. I really think we should decide this together. The kids are used to their school, they’ve made friends. I don’t want to throw all this away for your job. Maybe there’s some compromise?”

Oleg sharply put his cup on the table, and its clinking shattered the silence.

“You’re just my wife, and I make the decisions!” his words sounded like a sentence. It was not a discussion, but an order, ending any conversation. His gaze was cold and decisive, as if her opinion had no value.

Marina looked at him for a long time, unable to find the right words. A lump in her throat prevented her from speaking, and tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back. Her patience, held back for years, was coming to an end. She could no longer just be silent and obey.

“Oleg, have you never thought that I also have a right to have a voice in our family?” her voice was even but firm.

Oleg raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“What are you talking about? I do everything for you, for the kids, for you. Am I a bad husband?”

Marina took a deep breath, as if gathering strength:

“You don’t hear me, Oleg. You’ve never listened to me. You decide everything, without thinking about us, without asking what we and the kids want. Do you think that’s normal?”

Oleg frowned, his face turned to stone.

“Marina, are you starting to blame me? I work, I bring in the money, I solve problems. You’ve lived your whole life without care. So what’s the problem?”

Marina slowly stood up from the table. Inside, everything was boiling, but she felt a strange clarity and strength.

“Oleg, it’s not about the money or the job. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being just a shadow, blindly following you, obeying your decisions.” She spoke calmly, but her voice was firm, as if ready to break the long-held silence.

Oleg looked at his wife irritably, as if her words were unworthy of attention.

“And what do you suggest? Leave everything and sit at home? Or do you think I’ll quit my job for you?”

Marina paused, feeling a heaviness in her chest but trying to calm down.

“No. I’m asking you to think about the family. About the kids. About how our desires are also important. If you’re not ready to understand that, we’ll have to decide how to live further.”

Oleg squinted, his face turned to stone.

“Are you hinting at a divorce?” there was a barely restrained threat in his voice.

“No, Oleg. I just want you to understand: it can’t go on like this.

I am your wife, not your subordinate. If we can’t make decisions together, then we’re no longer a family,” Marina said softly, but each word was like a blow.

 

 

Oleg frowned, his gaze cold and penetrating.

“You’ve gone too far, Marina. Do you think you can manage alone? Forgot who’s the head of this house?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, Oleg. I’ve just lived with this too long. But now I’ve realized: the main thing in my life is me,” Marina said calmly but confidently, feeling something change inside with each word.

Oleg froze, his face contorted with surprise. He was silent, stunned that his wife could respond like that. Marina lingered on his face for a moment but quickly turned away and left the room. Each of her steps was heavy, but in each, she felt incredible relief. The freedom she had not allowed herself to breathe for so long was finally hers.

She knew that ahead would be difficult. But this choice was her own, and now everything would change.

Late in the evening, when the house was quiet, Marina packed. After packing clothes and children’s toys, she made the final decision. She would not return to that house where her voice was always invisible and unheard.

Her parents greeted her without questions, with quiet, almost reassuring understanding. Her father, hugging her, said:

“We always knew this moment would come, daughter. You didn’t need to endure so long.”

Her mother, with her usual care, added:

“Here you can be yourself. We’ll help you with everything.”

Marina was overwhelmed by a wave of relief, feeling all the fatigue leave her chest. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t need to pretend, adjust, hide her feelings. She was just herself. And at night, in the silence of her parents’ house, she slept peacefully. This was the step she had waited for so long.

When Oleg returned from work, the apartment met him with emptiness. He didn’t take it seriously—thought Marina had gone to her parents as usual, for a couple of days.

“She’ll come back when she cools down,” he said, dining alone.

A week passed, but she did not return. Oleg started calling, but each call was met with silence. Then, irritated, he decided to go to her parents. Her father opened the door to him. The man stood calmly, but his gaze held the same cold determination as his daughter’s words.

“Oleg, what have you come here to do?” asked the father, not inviting him in, as if everything was said with one look.

“I want to talk to Marina,” Oleg replied, trying to contain his anger. “Yes, we argued, but everything can be fixed.”

“Leave,” said Marina’s father, and his voice left no room for arguments. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. She needs time. If you really love her, give her that time.”

 

“I want to explain everything!” Oleg’s voice trembled, as did his confidence. “It’s a misunderstanding! I did this for us, for the family. Why doesn’t she want to hear me out?”

At that moment, Marina appeared in the doorway. Her face was tired, but her gaze was firm. There was no fear, only cold clarity.

“Oleg, I won’t come back,” she said calmly, as if each word was measured. “I want to live my life, take care of the kids. We can no longer be together.”

Oleg stood rooted, not believing his ears.

“Marina, are you serious? I wanted everything to be better… I thought you’d understand…” His voice was barely audible, he clenched his fists as if his world was crumbling.

“I understand everything,” Marina looked at him, her gaze as firm as stone. “You’ve never seen me as an equal person. You haven’t listened to me. This move was the last straw. I’m tired of being a woman whose opinion doesn’t matter.”

Oleg bowed his head, his shoulders sagged, and he felt his wife’s words penetrate his heart, leaving emptiness.

“Is this the end?” he asked, almost whispering.

“Yes,” said Marina, her voice unwavering. “I’m filing for divorce.”

After her words, Oleg silently left. He knew he had lost his family, but couldn’t believe nothing could be changed. He tried to call, but her phone was without answer. She avoided meetings, and it seemed familiar to him—her silence was cold, like the last blow to his pride. He increasingly realized how his cruel certainty of his own rightness had destroyed what seemed indestructible.

Marina returned to a new life, step by step rebuilding it. She found a job that brought satisfaction and took up sports. Time for hobbies became her own space. The freedom she gained gave her a long-forgotten sense of happiness. The kids also adapted to new conditions, and Marina made sure they felt loved, protected.

Oleg increasingly realized that he himself was the cause of what happened. He had lost Marina, her voice, her warmth, her care. He had relied too long on being able to decide everything, that his opinion was the only important one. Now he was left with emptiness and regret.

Again that smell. Cinnamon with vanilla. I check the cheesecake recipe for the hundredth time, although I know it by heart. My hands shake as I take the form out of the oven. Please, let it be perfect this time.

— Masha, did you fall asleep there? — Andrei’s voice comes from the living room. — The guests are waiting for the dessert!

I hurriedly cut the cheesecake, decorate it with fresh raspberries. Every move is precise — I’m afraid of making a mistake. His words from the last family dinner echo in my head: “As usual, all thumbs. Can’t even cut a simple cake properly.”

I enter the living room with the tray. His entire family is at the table — mom, dad, sister with her husband. They smile, chat. Only my mother-in-law looks on with her usual squint.

— Here comes our little chef! — Andrei greets me with his trademark smirk. — I hope there are no surprises this time?

I set the plates, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Andrei is the first to taste. I hold my breath.

— Hmm… — he grimaces theatrically. — Do you seriously think this is edible? Where have you seen a cheesecake this dry?

— Sorry, I… — I begin, but he interrupts:

— Can’t you remember a simple recipe? How many times do I have to say — 160 degrees, no higher! Any fool can manage, but you…

Mother-in-law shakes her head:

— Andrei, don’t be angry. Masha tried…

 

 

— Exactly, she tried! — he pushes the plate away irritably. — It’s always mediocre. Sometimes I think — maybe I should have married someone who can at least cook?

Everyone laughs awkwardly. And I stand, gripping the tray with pale fingers. Inside, something breaks — quietly, but irreversibly.

— I’ll bring some coffee, — I squeeze out and run to the kitchen.

Hands trembling, I place cups on the tray. In my head, it pulses: “How much longer? How much more can I endure this?”

In the evening, when the guests have left, I stand long in front of the bedroom mirror. When did I become like this? A gray face, dull eyes, drooping shoulders. Where is that cheerful girl who once dreamed of great love?

Andrei’s voice comes from the living room — he’s making a call:

— Can you imagine, she messed up the dessert again. I don’t know how to teach her anymore — you might as well bang your head against the wall…

I stare at my reflection. Something dark and heavy grows in my chest. The ticking of the clock on the wall suddenly becomes deafening.

Enough. Never again.

That night I barely slept. For the first time in ten years of marriage, my mind was crystal clear. A plan formed itself — simple and frightening at the same time.

Tomorrow I’ll show him what it feels like to be humiliated. And to hell with the consequences.

— Masha, darling, have you lost your mind? — Andrei jerks in the bonds attached to the bedpost. — Untie me immediately!

I look at him, so helpless, and a strange calm spreads inside me. No more trembling hands, no breaking voice.

— You know, dear, I was thinking… — I slowly trace a finger down his cheek. — Ten years is enough time to learn to make a perfect cheesecake. But somehow you still find something to nitpick.

— Masha, stop this circus! — he tries to speak authoritatively, but fear slips through his voice. — Untie me immediately, or…

— Or what? — I lean closer. — Tell everyone what a worthless wife I am? Oh, wait… you do that already. At every opportunity.

I stand up and start pacing the room. Dawn is breaking outside, but the curtains are tightly drawn. Phones are off — nothing will interrupt our special conversation.

— Remember our wedding? — I stop by the dressing table. — That was the first time you humiliated me in public. ‘Clumsy bride can’t even throw a bouquet properly!’ Everyone laughed. And I smiled because I thought — you were just joking.

— Masha, I… — he stops under my gaze.

— Be quiet. It’s my turn to speak, — I take a comb, run it through my hair. — You know what’s funny? I really did try to get better. Took cooking lessons, read etiquette books, lost weight… But it was never enough for you.

Andrei falls silent. For the first time in all these years, he listens to me, really listens.

— And remember last year’s corporate party? When you told all your colleagues how clueless I am? ‘Imagine, she can’t even turn on an iron properly — always burns something!’

I walk to the window, slightly move the curtain. The city is waking up.

— Did you know I cried in the bathroom then? No, of course you didn’t. You were too busy — spinning tales about your worthless wife.

— Masha, I didn’t mean to… — his voice is muffled. — They were just jokes…

I turn sharply:

— Jokes?! And when you told my parents I can’t get pregnant because I’m ‘even incompetent at that’ — was that also a joke?

He pales. We both remember that moment all too well.

— Three miscarriages, Andrei. Three! And you… you turned my pain into another joke.

I sit on the edge of the bed. I pull out an album from the drawer of the bedside table.

— Look how happy I am here, — I show a photo from ten years ago. — Eyes bright, smile genuine. And here’s a photo from last New Year’s, — I turn the page. — See the difference? You slowly killed everything lively in me, day by day, year by year.

Andrei squirms in his bonds:

— Listen, I realize I was wrong. Let’s talk calmly…

— Oh, now you want to talk? — I smirk. — Where was this desire before? When I tried to explain how much your ‘jokes’ hurt me?

I stand up, go to the closet. I start methodically packing things.

— What are you doing? — panic in his voice.

— What I should have done a long time ago, — I neatly fold a blouse. — I’m leaving.

— You can’t! — he almost shouts. — What about me? What will people say?

— That, my dear, is no longer my problem, — I zip up the suitcase. — Let your mom teach you how to make the perfect cheesecake.

I take out my phone, type a message to his sister: ‘Come to Andrei’s in a couple of hours. The key is under the mat.’

— You realize I won’t let this go? — his voice trembles with rage. — I’ll tell everyone what a psycho you are!

I turn to him one last time:

— Go ahead. Just keep in mind — I have dozens of recordings of your ‘sweet jokes.’ And believe me, the public will be thrilled by your sense of humor.

His face contorts:

— You… you recorded everything?

— Did you think I just endured it? — I smile. — No, dear. I learned. Learned to be strong. And you know what? Thank you for that lesson.

I take the suitcase, head to the door. Behind me, I hear his screams, pleas, threats. But inside — absolute silence and peace.

In the hallway, I stop by the mirror. I look into the eyes of that other Masha — determined, free. She smiles at me, and I smile back.

Goodbye, dear. Thank you for everything.

The lock clicks behind me, and I take my first step into a new life. Inside, a wonderful feeling spreads — like a bird that has been caged for years finally spreading its wings.

And in my pocket, the phone buzzes — a message from Andrei’s sister: ‘I’m on my way. What happened?’

I don’t reply. Let her see for herself. Let everyone see.

I get into a taxi:

— To the airport, please.

 

 

The driver nods, and the car moves off. In the rearview mirror, I watch the silhouette of the house where I spent ten years of my life. Ten years of humiliation, pain, and fear.

But that’s in the past. Ahead — only freedom.

And you know what? I will definitely learn to make the perfect cheesecake. But now — only for myself.

A week later, I sit in a cozy cafe somewhere on the outskirts of Barcelona. In front of me — a cup of hot chocolate and the latest issue of the local newspaper, which I’m trying to decipher in Spanish.

The phone vibrates — another missed call from my mother-in-law through the internet messenger. I smile and turn off the sound. In these days, I’ve received, probably, a hundred messages and calls. From his parents, from mutual friends, even from neighbors.

— Another coffee? — the waiter brings the bill. And he speaks not in Spanish.

— No, gracias, — I reply with a smile, glad that I’ve at least learned these simple phrases.

I open my laptop. There’s an email from Andrei’s sister, Katia:

‘Masha, I understand your feelings, but what you did… Andrei is in a terrible state. He’s not even going to work. Maybe it’s worth talking?’

I close the email without replying. Instead, I open a document that I started writing on the plane. ‘The Story of a Marriage’ — a trite title, but what difference does it make?

‘I learned to smile when it hurts. Learned to swallow tears along with another dose of humiliation. Every morning I woke up thinking — maybe today will be different? Maybe today he will finally see a person in me, not an eternally incorrect, clumsy, unworthy wife…’

I write and write, not noticing how time flies. Words pour out — all that I’ve held inside for years.

The phone comes alive again — this time a message from a friend:

‘Turn on the First Channel online! Your husband is giving an interview there!’

I quickly find the broadcast. True enough — Andrei in the studio of some talk show. Gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes.

— I was blind, — his voice trembles. — Only when she left did I realize what a monster I was. Masha, if you’re watching this — forgive me. I’ve realized everything. Let’s start over…

I turn off the broadcast. Bitterly laughing — what a talented actor. I wonder how much they paid for this show?

A new message — from his mother:

‘Masha, darling, he’s really changed! Please, come back, give him a chance…’

And then — from Andrei himself:

‘I’ve signed up with a psychologist. I’m changing. I swear, everything will be different…’

I shake my head. Too late, dear. Too late.

In the evening, I walk along the promenade. The sea roars, the air smells of salt and freedom. I enter a small bakery where an elderly Spaniard, José, works. He already knows me — I come here every day to learn to make desserts.

‘Cheesecake Lover,’ — he smiles.

I nod. Tomorrow we’ll start with cheesecake. What irony.

I return to the apartment in the dark. It’s small but cozy — white walls, large windows, a view of the sea. The first home I chose myself.

I open my laptop — a new email from a publisher:

‘Dear Maria! We’re interested in your story. Ready to discuss publication…’

I smile. Who would have thought that my pain would turn into a book, which might help other women find the strength to start a new life.

Several months later, I enter my bakery — yes, now it’s mine. José agreed to sell me the business, seeing my passion for baking. Luckily, I had saved enough money over the years. Every morning I bake cheesecakes, croissants, tarts. And you know what? They are perfect.

On a table by the window — the latest issue of a Russian magazine. On the cover, a photo of Andrei with a new girlfriend and the headline: ‘A Story of Repentance: Prominent Businessman Talks About His Mistakes…’

I smirk and toss the magazine. It’s no longer my story.

The phone rings — an unknown number.

 

‘Maria? This is Elena from the support center. I read your book… Could you speak to our clients? Many women need your story.’

‘Of course,’ — I reply without hesitation. — When?’

In the evening, I sit on the balcony, watching the sunset. In the oven, another cheesecake bakes — this time with lavender and blueberries. My special recipe.

The phone pings — the last message from Andrei:

‘I still love you…’

I don’t reply. Instead, I open my email and write:

‘Dear Elena! Yes, I am ready to share my story. Because every woman deserves to be happy. Every woman deserves respect. And everyone should know: it’s never too late to start over…’

The air smells of freedom. And you know what? This freedom is far sweeter than any dessert.

I wrap myself in a blanket and watch the sun slowly sink into the sea. Who would have thought — me, always so proper and cautious, suddenly took a crazy step. Left everything and moved to a foreign country. You know what’s most surprising? For the first time in many years, I’m not replaying what Andrei would have said in my head. I don’t imagine his contemptuous smirk, don’t hear his biting comments. For once, I don’t care whether I’m living ‘correctly’ or not.

I would have gladly stayed in my own country, but I’m still afraid of him.

I take a sip of coffee and smile at my thoughts. Funny how it turns out — by losing my familiar life, I seem to have found my true self. The girl who once dreamed of opening her own bakery. Who loved to goof off and wasn’t afraid to seem silly.

Marina observed her son, Ilya, as he tried on his new suit. He was tall and dark-haired, and seeing him dressed so elegantly made it hit home: her boy was getting married tomorrow. Ilya examined his reflection, pleased with the impeccable fit of his attire.

“It’s quite the stylish suit,” Ilya commented, admiring the rich color. “It looks expensive.”

“It certainly is,” Marina thought to herself, but instead she replied, “It suits you wonderfully. I’ll probably tear up at the wedding when I see you all dressed up.”

Ilya paused, facing her, “Mom, you remember we agreed you wouldn’t attend, right?”

“Agreed? I thought that was just a joke,” Marina replied, confused.

“No joke, Mom. Remember how particular Vika’s parents are? The guests will be from high society. You’d feel out of place, and I’d be worried about you all day. Do you want to spoil this for me?”

Ilya sat beside her, taking her hand in his. “Just think how uncomfortable you’d feel among all those glamorous guests. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. Let’s meet the day after for a celebration, just us.”

Marina felt a sharp pain in her chest, realizing her son was embarrassed by her. “Out of place? I have plans to get my hair and nails done, and I’ll wear a nice dress.”

“That old blue dress?” Ilya retorted, pacing again. “Look, if you won’t listen to reason, I’ll be blunt. I’m ashamed that my mother’s a cleaner. I don’t want you embarrassing me in front of Vika’s family.”

Stunned by his harsh words, Marina sat in silence. Ilya grabbed his things, showing off his suit once more, and left, pausing only to add, “Please don’t come to the wedding. You won’t be welcomed.”

Hours after Ilya’s departure, as evening settled, Marina remained on the couch, too shocked to cry. It wasn’t until she switched on the light and retrieved an old family album from the dresser that her tears finally began to flow. Flipping through it, she came upon a photo of herself at two years old, wearing a bright, second-hand dress, and beside her, a thin woman with a vacant yet joyous expression. Even from the faded photo, her mother’s happiness was palpable.

Marina was just two and a half when her mother vanished, stripped of parental rights and leaving her daughter’s life for good. As she grew, Marina never sought to find her absent mother, feeling no urge to delve into a possibly painful past.

In a photo, ten-year-old Marina stands with untamed golden curls, third from the left in the second row of an orphanage group picture—a stark testament to a tough childhood. The orphanage, plagued by neglect and misconduct, could have been ripped from a gritty documentary: food theft by staff, harsh discipline from educators, and a director indifferent to the bullying that ruled the halls.

One snapshot captures three young women in waitress uniforms, playfully posing on a building’s stoop under a crooked sign. After finishing school, Marina didn’t deliberate long over career choices. She became a waitress at a humble roadside diner named “By the Road.” The pay was modest, but the ample tips from patrons made up for it.

Despite grueling twelve-hour shifts, Marina thrived on her newfound independence. She rented a room in a sunny, spacious apartment shared with a kind elderly couple. Her earnings were modest, yet she discovered a knack for fashion, transforming thrift-store finds into chic ensembles.

One cherished photo shows Marina in a forest clearing, laughter filling the air as she sits adorned with a floral crown next to a dashing dark-haired young man with a similar garland. The memory of that day still quickens her pulse.

Marina had been working at the café for nearly a year when she met Maxim on a bustling summer morning. As she navigated through the crowd with a tray, she tripped, sending tomato juice splashing across a patron’s shirt by the window.

Stas, the café manager, hurried over, berating her and threatening her job. But the customer, Maxim, was unexpectedly calm, brushing off the incident and asking Marina to fetch a clean shirt from his car.

Stas eagerly took the car keys to retrieve the item himself, quipping about Marina’s clumsiness. Alone with Maxim, Marina apologized profusely, promising to make amends for the stained shirt.

“Relax,” Maxim reassured her with a smile. “It’s really no big deal. By the way, I’m Maxim. What’s your name?”

“Marina,” she replied, returning his handshake and meeting his gaze for the first time. He was strikingly handsome, with gray eyes and an easy smile.

When Stas returned with Maxim’s backpack, he ushered him to a private area to change. Passing Marina, Stas couldn’t resist a sarcastic jab about her work pace.

Later, as Marina was settling a bill with another couple, she heard Maxim’s friendly voice behind her.

“Marina, could I have a moment?”

Turning around, she saw him sitting at the same table, now wearing a fresh blue shirt, waiting to chat further.

“Will you take my order?”

“Of course.”

While serving the handsome customer, Marina felt a blush spread across her cheeks. After seeing him out, Stas gave her a knowing wink:

“Don’t worry, I was harsh on purpose to prevent him from making you pay for the shirt. It’s worth more than your monthly earnings.”

“Who is he, anyway?”

“That’s Max Skvortsov, the mayor’s son. He’s well-known around here.”

By the time her shift ended, Marina was so drained that she had nearly forgotten the morning’s mishap. All she wanted was to go home and sleep.

It was already dark outside, and she was unsure how long she would have to wait for the bus. Then, a sleek foreign car pulled up. Marina instinctively stepped back, but then she recognized the vehicle. What was the mayor’s son doing here now?

Maxim emerged briskly, holding a bouquet of flowers, and walked straight up to her. He handed her the white roses:

“Finished with work? I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked, so I went with these. Next time, I’ll know to get your favorites.”

Marina was dumbfounded:

“Why?”

 

“Why not?” Max chuckled. “I’m actually trying to woo you. Plus, it’s a beautiful evening. Maybe we could go out?”

Suddenly, her exhaustion seemed to vanish, replaced by a surreal excitement. It felt like a dream, yet the reality of her casual attire snapped her back.

“Thank you, but I’m just too tired tonight,” she managed to say.

“How about tomorrow then?” Max pressed.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, a smile tugging at her lips.

They met the next day and were inseparable after that. Max, an economics student, had just aced his summer exams, and they began spending every possible moment together. In July, he took her on a vacation to Sochi since she didn’t have an international passport. It was ten days of beachside bliss, barbecues, and laughter with his university friends—the happiest time of Marina’s life.

They even started planning their wedding, dreaming of a future together. But come autumn, their plans unraveled. Max was seen in public with a less affluent friend, and the gossip reached his father, turning Marina’s life upside down.

The Skvortsov family made no secret of their disapproval. Their only son involved with a girl from an orphanage didn’t sit well with them. Maxim’s mother bombarded Marina with calls, each filled with venom and demands that she end the relationship. Even Maxim’s cousin stirred up a scandal at the cafe where she worked.

Adding to the pressure, Marina learned from her neighbor, Yakov Ivanovich, that someone had been probing about her background, offering money for false accusations against her. “Recently, a woman offered a handsome sum to label you a drug addict and a prostitute. I sent her packing,” he told her.

Marina kept these burdens from Maxim, knowing that he was on the brink of securing an overseas study opportunity. The weight of the situation was visible in his troubled glances, though he seemed to find solace in her reassuring smiles.

 

Two weeks before Maxim was to leave, Marina received a chilling call from his father, the mayor. “I am Nikolai Borisovich. You will end it with my son, or you’ll regret it deeply,” he threatened, and then abruptly hung up. Despite the threat, Marina’s resolve to stand by Maxim remained unshaken.

However, as soon as Maxim departed for London, Marina’s nightmare intensified. Stas, having been bribed, falsely accused her of theft, leading to her arrest. The trial was a mockery, with a disinterested state-appointed lawyer and an aggressive prosecutor. The result was a three-year sentence.

In prison, Marina discovered she was pregnant. The reality of her situation and the thoughts of her unborn child made enduring her sentence all the more painful. She refrained from dwelling on her time behind bars; it was too harrowing to revisit.

Marina was released after serving half her sentence, fortunate to still have custody of her son, whom she named Ilyushka. Reintegrating into society was tough. With a criminal record and a child to care for, job opportunities were scarce. Yet, she found ways to make ends meet through various jobs, supported by Yakov Ivanovich, who secured daycare for her son.

The past was a closed chapter for Marina, or so she thought, until she ran into a former acquaintance who updated her on everyone: the cafe’s bankruptcy, the Skvortsovs’ move to Moscow, and Maxim’s marriage to a woman from the capital. Devastated, Marina cried through the night but resolved to focus on her son, her sole joy and purpose.

One sleepless night, as dawn approached, she pondered her sacrifices for Ilyushka. She had always shielded him from hardship, never complaining or showing signs of fatigue, always ensuring he had the best. Yet, her indulgence had shaped him into someone who took her efforts for granted, evidenced by his recent demand that she not attend his wedding.]

 

 

Understanding but wounded, Marina spoke to her son’s portrait, “I’ve always put you first, Ilyushka, but this time, I must stand up for myself.”

With determination, she prepared for the wedding, using her savings and salary for a makeover. At the registry office, her transformation was startling. Looking years younger and dressed elegantly, she drew many admiring looks.

As the ceremony concluded, and the guests celebrated, Ilya approached her, his tone mixed with frustration and disbelief, “So you ignored my request? You’re not planning to come to the reception, are you?”

Marina, poised and serene, finally ready to assert her own worth, met her son’s gaze with a quiet dignity.

“I won’t stay,” Marina affirmed gently. “I’ve witnessed what I needed to.”

Suddenly, an exuberant Vika approached, her face flushed with excitement. “Marina Anatolyevna, you look incredible! The parents are asking if you’d join us at the restaurant.”

“Thank you, but I should be heading out.”

“What do you mean, leaving now?” Vika protested, turning to Ilya. “Ilya, what’s going on here?”

“Mom, really, why the hurry? It’s your only son’s wedding,” Ilya coaxed with a strained smile.

As the reception progressed and it was time for the parents’ toast, Marina stepped up to the microphone, her voice soft yet resonant:

“May you both cherish each other, finding joy and love every day of your lives…”

Her heartfelt words moved the crowd to an emotional applause. As she stepped down, Marina almost collided with a familiar figure—a tall man in a distinguished suit.

“It can’t be,” Maxim said, stepping in front of her. “Marishka, is that really you? What brings you here?”

 

 

“Maxim?” Marina’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

“I’m here because the bride’s father is a business associate of mine. He invited me. And what a remarkable son you have,” Maxim said, his voice uneven as he took her hand. “Could we perhaps talk somewhere quiet? Are you here alone, without a partner? I’ve been divorced for a decade now, no children.”

They found a quiet corner and spoke for an hour. Maxim shared that his father had flown out to see him abroad, bearing false news of Marina’s new life in Moscow with another man. Distraught yet cautious, Max had hoped to verify the claim through a friend before confronting her, only to find the café staff corroborating his father’s tale.

“I was devastated, stayed abroad for months before moving back to Moscow. My father advanced in his career, and I married. Have I been happy? Not truly, not like when I was with you. But how have you been?”

“Let’s save the sad stories for another time,” Marina suggested with a soft smile. “We’re at a wedding, after all. How about a dance instead?”

As they danced, the guests’ eyes were fixed on them. Ilya, watching from a distance, saw his mother in a new light, realizing the sacrifices she had made. A deep sense of remorse washed over him.

After the dance, as Marina and Maxim began to leave, Ilya rushed to the porch.

“Mom, where are you going?”

“I’m leaving, just as you wished,” she reminded him.

“But, Mom, who is this man? Where are you going with him?”

Marina looked at Ilya, her eyes sparkling with renewed life. “I’m willing to follow him anywhere,” she confessed earnestly. “And by the way, meet your father, Maxim.”

Ilya’s expression turned to one of confusion and surprise. Marina added with a hopeful smile, “It seems we have much to catch up on, but not tonight. Tonight, we celebrate a wedding!”

Can you believe it, I still can’t believe it!” Angela stirred sugar in her cappuccino cup, oblivious to the slowly settling foam. “Just two months… In two months, I’ll be a wife.”

Nadezhda smiled, watching her friend. Their favorite coffee shop on the corner of Sadovaya Street had been their meeting spot for the last five years. The waitress brought pastries: blueberry for Nadya and lemon for Angela.

 

“Are you nervous?”

“Insanely!” Angela put her spoon down. “Especially because of his mother. Valentina Nikolaevna… She is so… strict. On our first meeting, she examined me as if I were a museum exhibit.”

“Stop it,” Nadezhda tasted her pastry. “All mothers-in-law are like that at first. Mine was a Cerberus too, but now we make jam together. What matters is your relationship with Nikita.”

Angela closed her eyes, remembering their first meeting. The sea roared, music from a distant festival played, and they sat on a deserted beach talking until dawn. Three years had flown by like a single day.

“You know, he proposed right where we first met. We went to the same festival, and in the evening…”

“Wait, you’ve told me this!” Nadezhda interrupted. “With the ring at sunset, I remember.”

“Yes, sorry. I still can’t believe it.”

Outside, the April wind chased clouds, and the sun appeared and disappeared. Angela pictured her May wedding: apple trees in bloom, a light dress, Nikita happy beside her…

“Have you decided to keep your grandmother’s apartment?” Nadezhda suddenly asked.

“Of course. It’s a memory, every corner is dear. Nikita understands, says we’ll renovate it to my taste.”

“You’re lucky with him.”

Angela nodded. After her grandmother’s death, the apartment became her only inheritance. A small two-bedroom in an old building, but it was hers. They didn’t plan to live there. Nikita had his own large, modern three-bedroom in the city center.

The entrance bell rang. An elderly couple entered the coffee shop, and Angela flinched—the woman reminded her of her future mother-in-law.

“Nadya, what if she never accepts me?”

“Nonsense. Give her time to get used to it. You’re not marrying her.”

They sat in the coffee shop until evening. Nadezhda shared stories from her family life, advising not to sweat the small stuff. Angela listened, but her anxiety lingered.

She returned home after dark. The hallway light was out, so she had to grope her way upstairs. Near her door, Angela noticed a shadow and gasped.

“Don’t be scared, it’s me.”

Valentina Nikolaevna stepped into the dim light from the window. Tall, straight, in a stern dark coat.

“We need to talk.”

Angela nervously opened the door and flicked the light switch. The hallway was cool—she had forgotten to close the window that morning.

“Come in… Tea?”

“No need,” Valentina Nikolaevna remained standing. “I have a serious conversation for us.”

She took a folder with documents from her bag.

“Here’s a deed of gift. For half of the apartment.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You will transfer half of the apartment to me. As a guarantee of your serious intentions.”

Angela stared at the folder, confused. Her ears rang.

“But… why?”

“Because I need to be sure about you. My son is a desirable match, and some girls…” Valentina Nikolaevna pursed her lips. “In short, it’s a guarantee of your good behavior in marriage.”

“But the apartment… It’s a memory of my grandmother…”

“Exactly why. If you truly love Nikita, you’ll agree. If not…” she paused. “Then there will be no wedding. And don’t you dare tell him about this conversation.”

Valentina Nikolaevna placed the folder on a side table.

“I give you three days to think.”

The door slammed so sharply that the light bulb shook. Angela slid down the wall, wrapping her arms around herself. A draft from the window fluttered the curtain, bringing the smell of wet asphalt. From the avenue came the honks of cars—apparently, another traffic jam at the intersection. She sat in the cool hallway, examining the cracks in the old linoleum, until her fingers began to numb from the cold.

She sat like that until morning, replaying happy moments with Nikita in her mind. His smile, warm hugs, kind eyes… Could he possibly know about this? No, impossible. It was all her, his mother.

By dawn, Angela had made her decision.

The morning was overcast. Angela dialed Valentina Nikolaevna’s number. The phone rang endlessly, but she didn’t hang up.

“I’m listening,” the mother-in-law’s voice sounded detached.

“I’ve made my decision.”

“And?”

“No. I won’t give up the apartment.”

Silence hung on the line. Angela gripped the phone tighter.

“Do you understand the consequences?” Steel crept into Valentina Nikolaevna’s voice.

“I do. But I truly love your son.”

“You will regret this.”

The call ended. Angela lowered her hand with the phone. Outside, rain began to drizzle, droplets tapping on the eaves. She brewed strong coffee, opened her laptop—today she needed to work.

Nikita called later in the evening.

“Hey, sunshine! Can you get off early? I want to see you.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “In an hour?”

“Great. I’ll be waiting in our park.”

She found him by the fountain. Nikita stood under an umbrella, tall, broad-shouldered, in his favorite leather jacket. Seeing Angela, he beamed.

“I’ve missed you.”

They walked under one umbrella, talking about the wedding, the future. Nikita joked about his boss at work. Angela laughed, but inside, she tensed—she knew a storm was near.

The call came the next morning.

“Can you explain what’s happening?” Nikita’s voice trembled with tension.

“What happened?”

“Mom called. She says you’re demanding some unreasonable conditions, blackmailing… What’s this nonsense?”

Angela took a deep breath.

“Let’s meet. Now. And I’ll tell you everything.”

 

 

They settled at a distant table in a café by the river—an old bakery with a peeling sign and creaky floors. Angela fiddled with a teaspoon, examining scratches on the wooden tabletop. Words came hard—each phrase had to be pushed out. About how Valentina Nikolaevna appeared at her doorstep. About the folder with the deed documents. About how she demanded half of the apartment, threatening to cancel the wedding. Nikita was silent, his jaw working.

“And you kept silent?” he asked quietly.

“She forbade me from telling you.”

Nikita abruptly stood, paced along the window. A waitress flinched away with a tray.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Angel, I’ll be right back.”

He stepped outside. Angela saw through the window how he dialed a number, spoke—gesticulating sharply. He returned after ten minutes, sitting beside her.

“I spoke to Mom.”

“And?”

“I told her I love you. That I’ll marry you, even if I have to choose between her and you.”

Angela felt tears well up.

“I don’t want you to have to choose.”

“It’s not you making me choose,” he took her hand. “You know, I’ve always noticed how she treats my girlfriends. Always finding faults, nitpicking… But this?”

At a neighboring table, a young couple fed each other ice cream. They laughed, oblivious to everything else.

“Maybe I should have agreed?” Angela whispered. “For us…”

“No,” Nikita squeezed her fingers. “You did the right thing. A family shouldn’t start with blackmail.”

Days flowed strangely. They prepared for the wedding—chose a restaurant, ordered invitations, discussed music. But a shadow of an unachieved reconciliation loomed over every decision.

Valentina Nikolaevna called a week later.

“I want to apologize,” she said in a formal tone. “Perhaps I was too… emotional.”

“Do you want to reconcile?” Angela asked cautiously.

“Let’s meet the three of us, with Nikita. Discuss everything calmly.”

They scheduled the meeting for Sunday, in Valentina Nikolaevna’s large apartment. Angela was there for the first time—bright walls, antique furniture, photos of Nikita as a child.

“Sit down,” the hostess pointed to the sofa. “Tea, coffee?”

“No need, Mom,” Nikita cut her off. “Speak, why did you call us?”

Valentina Nikolaevna adjusted her perfectly styled hair.

“I thought… Maybe we can come to an agreement. Angela, you draw up the deed not to me, but to Nikita. That would be fair.”

“What?” he stood up. “Are you starting this again?”

“Sit down!” Authority sliced through Valentina Nikolaevna’s voice. “I care about your future. You never know what might happen…”

“Enough!” Nikita slammed his fist on the table. Cups jumped. “I won’t let you ruin my happiness. If you can’t accept Angela as she is—that’s your problem. The wedding is in a month. Come if you want. If not—we’ll manage.”

He took Angela’s hand.

“Let’s leave.”

They descended the stairs in silence. Outside, drizzle fell.

“Sorry,” Nikita said. “I didn’t think she would…”

Angela hugged him.

“It’s okay. We’ll manage.”

Four weeks until the wedding. Angela tried to occupy herself—work, meetings with friends, preparations. But every evening, alone, she thought about Valentina Nikolaevna. Why did she act that way? Did she truly want to protect her son? Or was she just used to controlling his life?

Nikita started staying over more often. They planned their honeymoon, discussed movies, adjusted the guest list for the wedding. The future seemed clear and bright, despite everything.

“You know,” he said one evening, “I’m grateful to my mom.”

“For what?”

“For helping me understand what’s important. No matter what happens—I’ll always be on your side.”

Angela smiled and leaned against his shoulder. Outside, lilacs bloomed—her grandmother’s favorite flowers. What would she say now? Probably, she’d praise her for her bravery. She always said, “Keep your back straight, girl. And don’t let anyone boss you around.”

May turned out warm. Apple trees and cherries showered the city with white blossoms, tulips bloomed in flower beds. Angela stood before a mirror in the bridal salon—her last dress fitting.

 

“Wonderful,” Nadezhda breathed, adjusting her friend’s veil. “Nikita will faint when he sees you.”

The dress was indeed beautiful—simple, elegant, with lace sleeves. Angela twirled in front of the mirror.

“Do you think everything will go well?”

“Sure. Stop worrying.”

The morning of the wedding day began chaotically. Friends arrived to do hair and makeup, a photographer snapped every moment, a florist brought the bouquet.

“The phone is blowing up,” Nadezhda laughed, answering another call. “Everyone’s anxious, everyone’s congratulating.”

Angela watched the makeup artist work magic on her face, thinking about her grandmother. How happy she would have been now…

Nikita waited at the registry office doors—in a dark suit, a white rose in his lapel. Seeing Angela, he froze with his mouth open.

“Close it, or a fly will get in,” his father whispered, and everyone laughed.

The ceremony passed like a blur. Angela only remembered Nikita’s warm fingers, his shining eyes, and his trembling voice as he said “yes.”

Close friends and family gathered at the restaurant. Pavel Andreevich gave a toast that brought tears to many eyes.

“To true love,” he said, raising his glass. “To the courage to be yourself and to protect your feelings. To my son, who grew up to be a real man, and to my new daughter, who taught him to be strong.”

As evening approached, Angela stepped out onto the terrace for some air. The May air smelled of lilacs and freshness.

“Am I intruding?” Pavel Andreevich approached quietly.

“Not at all, have a seat.”

They sat silently, watching the sunset.

“You know,” he began, “when Valya and I got married, I thought love would overcome everything. That she would change, become softer… But some people can’t let go of control. I gave in, bent—and lost myself. We eventually divorced. But Nikita… He’s different. He has a backbone.”

“Must be painful, seeing a son drift away from his mother.”

“Painful. But sometimes distance is the only way to preserve a relationship. Valya will understand, eventually.”

Minutes, hours flew by. Fireworks began—multicolored sparks reflected in champagne glasses. Nikita pulled Angela into a slow dance.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“About us. About the future.”

“And what’s in the future?”

“Us. Together. No matter what.”