Home Blog Page 10

«What are you doing?!» Sergey froze. «I’m leaving, Sergey,» his wife replied in a toneless voice. «Nina Ivanovna will not let us live. I can’t take it anymore.»

0

This is just slop!» Nina Ivanovna threw her spoon on the table.

Her daughter-in-law, Nastya, blushed and ran from the table.

«And under what fence did you find this fool?!» Nina Ivanovna looked at her son, Sergey.

«She’s not a fool, she’s my wife,» Sergey replied calmly.

Every encounter with her daughter-in-law was a fiery trial for Nina Ivanovna! Everything was wrong! The food was slop! The house was a mess! Anastasia herself was always unkempt and dressed like she shopped at second-hand stores!

 

Sergey tried to explain that by insulting his wife, his mother was also insulting him. But Nina Ivanovna wouldn’t listen!

«I will ensure that my son has a worthy wife! Not this crude, uneducated simpleton!» Nina Ivanovna yelled.

Sergey was by nature a non-confrontational person and always tried to settle disputes peacefully. And now, once again, he tried to calm his mother.

«Mom, this is my life, and I chose my wife myself! I love Nastya.»

«What do you know about love?!» Nina Ivanovna interrupted. «What do you know about family?! You were supposed to introduce her to me before the wedding! That’s the tradition! My parents chose me for your father because the elders in the family know better what kind of wife a son needs, as they raised him!» Nina Ivanovna gasped with anger, «And you! You found her… on some patch and even married her! From nowhere, without a dowry! I raised you with no expense spared! If your father were alive, he’d give you a piece of his mind!»

Sergey winced. He remembered well how he stood in the corner for the slightest misdeed and got «what he deserved» for any transgressions. And sometimes, his mother got it from him too.

Such upbringing neither embittered him nor crushed him. Sergey endured, but even as a child, he decided that things would be different in his own family.

He wasn’t angry with his parents and respected them, but believed that the modern family should have a different way of life.

Since childhood, his mother had tried to instill in him the idea that he should marry a very prestigious and preferably wealthy girl with influential parents. She constantly meddled in his personal life, recommending ambitious girls who knew the value of everything and were ready to climb the ladder from husband to the highest point.

But Sergey was looking for that warm and tender feeling. He sought mutual love. He wanted a cozy family, not a doll with only thoughts about money.

He met Anastasia at university, and they kept their relationship secret for a long time. Nastya had come to the city from the countryside, where she only had an older brother.

A simple and calm girl, not spoiled by a wealthy life, won Sergey’s heart with her openness and lack of mercenary views toward men.

«You’re not listening to me again!» his mother continued to complain. «I’ll lay down my bones, but you will not live with this hopeless orphan!»

«Mom… stop. Enough!» Sergey couldn’t take it anymore and pointed her to the exit.

Nina Ivanovna started gathering her things.

«In any case, I give you a week to get a divorce. I’ve said my piece!» she concluded and, slamming the door, left.

Sergey was very upset and hurt by Nina Ivanovna. He entered the room and saw Nastya packing her things.

«What are you doing?!» he froze.

«I’m leaving, Sergey,» his wife replied in a toneless voice. «Nina Ivanovna won’t let us live. I can’t listen to this anymore. I’ll go back to the village, live up to my status. Please, sleep in another room tonight. Thank you.»

Nastya slammed the door in his face and locked it. No matter how Sergey tried, she wouldn’t let him in. Desperate, Sergey went to sleep on the guest sofa, hoping his wife would cool down and reconsider.

The alarm clock woke him up. Sergey rarely woke up to it, as every morning began differently. His wife used to wake Sergey with a gentle kiss and an invitation to a tasty breakfast.

«Beloved?!» Sergey called out. But there was no answer. He got up and looked around. Dirty dishes were still on the table. Nastya had indeed left.

«It’s okay,» Sergey reassured himself, «After work, I’ll pick her up from work with flowers. We’ll have a romantic dinner, make up. And I’ll deal with my mother somehow.»

Leaving the mess in the kitchen, Sergey put on a wrinkled shirt and went to work. He tried to call his wife all day, but to no avail. Sergey left work early and went to Nastya.

«She worked until lunch and left, on vacation, they say,» the guard at the gate replied. Sergey scratched his head with his free hand; in the other, he held a bouquet of roses. Although the store clerk had asked him what flowers his wife liked, he couldn’t remember. So he just bought universal ones, roses.

Anastasia didn’t respond to calls or messages.

Arriving home, Sergey surveyed the place. Without Nastya, the apartment was dark, stuffy, and unbearably gloomy. And still not cleaned…

Picking up the phone, he called his boss.

«Sorry, family circumstances! I need to leave urgently.»

Hanging up, Sergey took off his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and started washing the dishes. After cleaning the apartment and changing clothes, he went out to look for his wife.

«I’m telling you for the last time!» Sergey slammed the table where Nina Ivanovna sat. «Give me her address!»

«If she left, it means she doesn’t love you!» the mother, poorly hiding her joy, tried to reason with her son. She worked in «the authorities» and had the opportunity to find out the address of Anastasia’s brother but firmly did not want to.

«And why did I come to her again?» Sergey thought. «She’s tied me up.»

 

He wanted to say many loud and harsh phrases, but suddenly he let go.

Sergey handed his mother the bouquet of roses he had bought for his wife and quietly said:

«Thank you, mom, for everything. Goodbye. Forget and forgive us.»

«What do you mean, goodbye?! Seryozhenka?!» Nina shouted, but it was too late. She irritably threw out the bouquet and decided she would never forgive her son for such an action.

Sergey didn’t sleep all night, and the next morning, he went out looking.

Besides the name of the village, Sergey had no information. He spent three hours driving around the village, looking for the house of Nastya’s brother by her maiden name, asking everyone.

«Excuse me, are you Aleksey, by any chance?» he asked a man chopping wood on the street.

«Aleksey,» the man replied sternly.

«I’m Sergey. Your sister’s husband.»

«You better leave here on good terms, Seryozhenka!»

«I won’t leave without my wife,» Sergey confidently said.

«We’ll see about that…» Aleksey began swinging the ax.

At that moment, Anastasia came out of the house and, seeing Sergey, froze.

«Lёsha, stop!» she cried to her brother. He waved his hand and left.

«Sort it out yourself, sister.»

«Please forgive me, Nastya!» Sergey handed her a bouquet of wildflowers he had bought from a grandmother along the way. «I still don’t know what your favorite flowers are…»

«These are my favorite…» she said and accepted the flowers. «By the way, your mother called.»

Sergey tensed.

«Why?»

«She said she’s cutting off all contact with you and if her son is still of interest to me, I can take him!»

«And am I of interest?» Sergey asked with a smile.

«Well, I don’t know,» Anastasia playfully stretched and, smiling, took her now only man by the arm.

You are old, and I need a young wife. Thank me for enduring you for 25 years!»

0

Don’t start hysterics, Arina. You should have known, marrying a promising surgeon, that this would happen sooner or later. Just look at yourself in the mirror if you haven’t done so in all these years. You’re old, and I need a young wife. I’m a well-known doctor, people talk about me. People try to get appointments with me. I need a beauty by my side, someone I wouldn’t be embarrassed to show off. Thank me for putting up with you for twenty-five years. That’s a significant amount of time. It was all for the sake of our son, but now that he’s grown up, I can leave you with a clear conscience.»

Arina looked at her husband, listening to his hurtful words, but she didn’t show any emotion. Inside, she was boiling. Twenty-five years had passed! In her mind, they were happy years of marriage. Now her husband was holding his head high, saying things she never expected to hear.

«The apartment that you inherited from your parents is currently empty. You haven’t managed to rent it out to new tenants yet, so move there. I think you lack the wit to demand a division of property, considering you didn’t contribute a penny to buying this house?»

Sergey looked at Arina as if trying to silence her with his gaze. Their son, Roman, had just gotten married a week ago. The father had given them a nice two-bedroom apartment and paid for their honeymoon, and now he came with news that made him shiver. Had he been waiting all this time for his son to settle down? But why endure a wife he didn’t love at all? Arina had dedicated herself entirely to the marriage. She once fell in love with a young surgeon who was just starting his challenging career.

Arina remembered how she twisted her ankle, slipping off a rock. Luckily, she managed to hold on, and nothing serious happened. They were hiking with friends at the time. Sergey was also there. He rushed to help the girl, telling her not to worry because he was a surgeon and wouldn’t let her suffer. That was exactly what happened. The guy skillfully fixed the dislocation, and the leg barely hurt. Arina fell in love with his eyes, blue as the clear sky, and agreed to go on a date with Sergey. They married quickly. Sergey carried his beloved in his arms, promising to move mountains for her. The man insisted that his wife should take care of the home. He was too jealous, and Arina was very beautiful. Sergey immediately made his stance clear – let the wife stay at home, and he would provide everything necessary. Arina didn’t argue. She easily agreed with her husband’s position. The role of a housewife was daunting but seemed manageable. Arina was the perfect wife, and Sergey adored her. Or so she thought until today.

Twenty-five years had passed. Arina was now forty-five, and her husband was forty-nine. A quarter-century walked hand in hand, only to be destroyed now? But there was nothing left to save. Arina understood that she could not fight for a relationship that no longer needed anyone but her. She could also not forgive her husband for such hurtful words.

«You should have told me earlier that you no longer wanted an old wife. I’m sure our son would have understood,» Arina managed a smile. «I’ll go pack my things.»

«That’s it? You won’t even say how bad a husband I am? Won’t you insult me?»

«Why?» Arina asked, leaving her bewildered husband alone with his thoughts.

The woman entered the bedroom, closed the door behind her, and felt something too important and significant break inside her. All this time, she had barely been breathing, listening to her husband’s words and trying to comprehend them. He. Does. Not. Love. Her. And how long had he fallen out of love?

Packing would take a few days. Arina wasn’t planning to leave behind what was so dear to her, knowing that her husband hadn’t asked her to vacate the house for nothing. Surely, he planned to bring his mistress there as soon as possible. To use the comfort Arina had created? That would never happen!

The woman approached the wardrobe, opened it to assess how many suitcases she would need to pack her things, but felt an intense burning in her chest. Nausea crept up her throat, tightening like a vice. Breathing became increasingly difficult, as if her lungs were filled with molten lava, burning from within. Everything before her eyes blurred, and a sparkling pain pierced her chest, and a stifled moan escaped her lips. The light before her eyes dimmed.

Hearing a crash from the bedroom, Sergey immediately rushed there. A bad premonition had gripped him, and when he saw his wife lying next to the wardrobe, he instantly turned pale. After administering first aid and calling an ambulance, Sergey cursed himself for that conversation. He had long wanted to confess that he had a mistress, but probably should have kept it a secret. Sergey felt responsible for his wife. He knew his son would not forgive him if he found out who had driven his mother to a heart attack. Perhaps he wouldn’t forgive him for the divorce either. But it was so hard to pretend when someone else had appeared on the side. A young assistant had turned Sergey’s head, and he hadn’t even noticed how she ended up in his bed. Then she also informed him of her pregnancy.

 

Sitting outside the intensive care unit, Sergey replayed the conversation with his wife over and over in his head. He thought he could have done it more softly. He wanted to blame her for the breakup, but it was necessary to take the full blow himself to make it easier for her to bear the depressing truth. Clenching his hands into fists, praying that everything would be okay with her, Sergey realized he hadn’t fallen out of love with his wife. But he could no longer stay with her. He had betrayed their relationship, a marriage they had built over the years. All the happy moments of their life together flashed before his eyes. Sergey remembered how he met Arina, their first kiss, how she said the desired «yes» and married him. No mistress could ever give him so many pleasant memories. And what had he traded it all for? A fleeting infatuation? He felt nothing for the mistress that bound him to his wife. However, he couldn’t leave her either, as she claimed to be expecting his child. The baby would need a father. Sergey had raised his son, and now he had to take care of a second child, albeit late in his life to be starting a family. The man blamed himself and thought about how he better proceed until the doctor came out and informed him that Arina’s condition had stabilized. She would be okay.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sergey pondered. He was trying to understand how best to behave moving forward. Should he insist on a divorce or ask his wife for forgiveness? Something inside screamed that he couldn’t live without her. He loved Arina, and she loved him. But on the other hand—what about the young woman who craved his attention and care?

The man was torn.

When Arina was transferred to a regular room, her husband couldn’t come to visit her right away because he didn’t know how to start the conversation. How to apologize? And when he came, it all just happened. He simply asked how Arina was feeling, what she needed. Standard phrases, a strained conversation. It was crucial for Sergey to decide here and now. He had to stop beating around the bush, but he was deeply mired in a swamp of lies.

There was no one to ask for advice, as Sergey had not managed to make friends. His wife had always been his only advisor and support. Sometimes he talked with his son and asked for support, but now he knew for sure that Roman wouldn’t understand his father. It would be good if he even spoke to him at all.

Meeting with his mistress, Sergey understood that she didn’t love him but was drawn to his success. As he was drawn to fresh young blood. He couldn’t be happy with this woman, but he couldn’t yet tell her his thoughts. Like a dog in the manger, the man was torn between two fires and thought about what he should ultimately do, who to choose? Who to stay with and share the rest of his life with? If the mistress was not embarrassing to show at important meetings, then with his wife, he felt more comfortable. Comfort or beauty? To be loved or to feel young again?

Arina, meanwhile, tried not to think about her husband’s betrayal. If initially, the woman tried to find flaws in herself, thinking about what she had done wrong and how she had displeased her husband, she now simply let go of all these worries. She had done everything right, surrounding her husband and son with care and warmth. Perhaps there was one major drawback after all—Arina never thought about herself. And now she had to decide how she would earn a living and what she would do next. She knew her son wouldn’t leave her and would help, but she didn’t want to burden him. He had his own family. They needed help, not to look out for when they would bring her treats or buy something for the house.

 

The woman decided that she would try to find a job related to her hobby because she really enjoyed baking, and her cakes were so good that many confectioners might envy her. In the end, there were courses after which she could find a job. And if not, she would try baking to order. There was a lot of work ahead, but the woman was sure she wouldn’t be lost, and she definitely wouldn’t suffer over a husband who left her with nothing. Let God judge him. Everyone makes mistakes in this life. Perhaps the mistake cost Arina her entire youth. But even now, the woman didn’t blame Sergey. She had been happy with him all this time, so those twenty-five years lived under one roof with a man she once trusted were not in vain.

Arina decided not to call her son and tell him that she was in the hospital. She didn’t want to spoil the young couple’s vacation, nor did she hint at the upcoming divorce now. Let them rest and enjoy, and the parents would somehow figure out their relationship and go their separate ways on their own.

The day of discharge arrived. Arina wasn’t kept in the hospital long because she recovered quickly, and there was no point in inpatient treatment. She was prescribed heart-strengthening medications and advised not to worry. She promised she wouldn’t. First and foremost, to herself. Sergey couldn’t come and meet his wife because he was on duty. They met at home in the evening. Arina quietly packed her things, deciding that she wouldn’t rush and that her husband wouldn’t throw her out on the street. After all, they had lived together for twenty-five years.

«Arina, forgive me. I understand that you ended up in the hospital because of me. I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have driven you to such a state. Maybe I should have said softer that I had decided to separate. I don’t know what came over me, and why I decided to just dump everything on you so rudely. Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t want to blame everything on you.

Of course, I wanted to, but then I realized that it was a crude mistake, and I decided to make amends.» Sergey found out that his young mistress was pregnant and not from him at all. Her revelations were a real blow, but at the same time, the man was relieved.

«Arin, drop this matter. No need to pack any stuff. We’re not going to divorce. I was wrong and fully realize my guilt. I know it won’t be easy for you to accept and forgive me, but please… don’t make a rash decision. I cheated on you, but I never stopped loving you.

Now Arina even found it funny to listen to all the nonsense her husband was telling her. Ended up in bed with another woman, but never stopped loving his wife? Let him tell those fairy tales to someone else, but Arina was fed up with deception.

«Be that as it may, you cheated on me. And everything you said – it didn’t come out of nowhere after all. It means you really think that our marriage should be torn apart. You were right about everything: I achieved nothing in this life, devoting myself entirely to the family. I didn’t take care of myself and didn’t think about it before. Maybe I didn’t look the way you wanted. That’s my fault. The more we love someone, the less they notice it. Don’t blame yourself, Sergey. It happened. Go to her and be happy.

«No, Arina,» Sergey protested. – I won’t be happy with anyone but you. She was deceiving me. Wanted to pin another man’s child on me. I realized that no one loved or would love me as you do. I don’t want to divorce you.

«But I want to divorce you, Sergey. Have the decency not to interfere with me packing my things. After all, I shouldn’t get worked up.

Sergey thought his wife was just offended, that she would eventually cool down and give him another chance, but soon their son returned and helped his mother move. Arina didn’t tell Roman that she left his father because of an affair. She didn’t want to pit father and son against each other and decided that if Sergey wanted to—he would confess himself. However, the boy was smart and figured it all out without any extra words. He couldn’t forgive his father for betraying their marriage with his mother, so he decided that he would minimize communication with him and return the apartment his father had gifted as soon as he could afford his own housing. The boy wanted to achieve everything on his own.

Arina got a job in a small bakery. Her cakes quickly captured the attention of customers, and the place gained popularity. The woman had no shortage of orders, and she started earning well. She spent all the money on herself and now truly lived. She started attending yoga, going to the fitness center, often visited the pool, and generally went out, which had been a luxury for her before, to not irritate her husband unnecessarily.

Sergey couldn’t understand why his wife had left him after all. How could she just forget twenty-five years of marriage and leave him? He told himself that Arina had never loved him at all and was looking for an excuse to leave and find another man. It’s always easier to blame others than to think everything through and find reasons in oneself. After all, not everyone can forgive betrayal, let alone forget it.

I found a girl on the street, no one was looking for her, so I raised her as my own.

0

Sometimes, fate delivers such surprises that you spend your entire life marveling at how it all turned out. I still remember that chilly October day when I was returning from the market in the neighboring village. Back then, buses were rare, and I had to walk, cursing the broken road and the heavy bags of potatoes under my breath.

At forty-two, I lived alone, if you don’t count a ginger cat named Barsik, who honestly looked more like a small pillow with a cheeky face. After my divorce, neither my personal life nor my relationship with my children turned out well. I worked at the village library, knitted socks in the evenings, and watched TV shows—just the typical life of an ordinary woman from the sticks.

I was just wondering if I had the strength to drag these damn bags home when I noticed her. A little figure in a thin jacket was sitting under an old oak tree, hugging her knees. At first, I even thought I was seeing things—who in their right mind would leave a child alone between villages in such weather?

‘Girl, whose are you?’ I called out, approaching her.

She lifted her head—a pale little face, frightened eyes, and silent. She just wrapped herself tighter.

‘Are you lost? Where are your parents?’

Silence. Only her lips trembled.

‘Lord, you’re completely frozen!’ I put down my bags and sat next to her. ‘My name is Tatyana Ivanovna. And what’s yours?’

‘S-Sonya,’ she whispered faintly.

‘Sonya, will you come to my house? I’ll make you some hot tea, you’ll warm up, and then we’ll figure out where you’re from.’

She timidly nodded, and I, grabbing the bags with one hand, took her icy little hand with the other. So we went—I, huffing under the weight of the potatoes, and she, trotting alongside like a little sparrow.

At home, the first thing I did was wrap her in a blanket, turn on the heater, and put the kettle on. Barsik, usually indifferent to guests, immediately jumped onto her lap and purred like a tractor.

‘Look, he likes you,’ I smiled, pulling out some cookies. ‘And he’s picky, doesn’t just go to anyone.’

Sonya timidly petted the cat, and I noticed her shoulders relax a bit.

‘Sonya, how old are you?’

‘Five… I think.’

‘And do you know your last name? Or where you live?’

She shook her head, and I felt a tightness inside. Something was very wrong here.

That evening, I fed her soup and pies (thanks to my habit of baking in advance), put her to bed in my room, and settled myself on the sofa in the living room. I couldn’t sleep all night—I called the police, the administration of neighboring villages, but no one had reported a missing child.

A week passed, then another. Sonya slowly thawed, began to smile, especially when I read her fairy tales before bed. But she remembered nothing—or didn’t want to remember—about how she ended up on the road.

When the juvenile affairs officer shrugged her shoulders again, I realized—I had to decide something. An orphanage? The very thought made me nauseous.

‘Sonya,’ I called her one evening when she was drawing at the table, sticking out her tongue from diligence. ‘Do you want to live with me? Permanently?’

She paused, gripping the pencil, then looked up:

‘Can I?’

‘Yes. You’ll be my daughter.’

‘And can we keep Barsik too?’

I laughed:

‘And Barsik too.’

She got off the chair, walked over to me, and suddenly hugged me tightly. As I stroked her head, I thought—come what may. We’ll manage somehow.

Then, of course, the visits to the authorities began, gathering documents, checks. But that’s another story.

I remember the first day at school as if it were yesterday. Sonya clung to my hand as if they were leading her to a cage with tigers, not to the first grade. A new polka-dot dress, white bows, which I tried for an hour to make symmetrical—everything as it should be.

‘Mom, what if I can’t do it?’ she whispered as we approached the school.

That ‘mom’ still resonated warmth somewhere deep in my heart. She first called me that a month ago when I was lying down with a fever of forty, and she brought me a cup of tea, spilling half along the way.

‘Of course, you can,’ I squatted down in front of her, adjusting a bow. ‘You are my smart girl.’

‘What if they laugh?’ she lowered her eyes.

I knew what she meant. In the village, everyone knows each other, and the story of the ‘foundling’ had already sprouted a dozen versions, each more ludicrous than the last.

‘You know what?’ I pulled out a small notebook with kittens on the cover from my bag. ‘Here, hold this. You’ll write down all the interesting things you learn there. And you’ll tell me in the evening. Agreed?’

She nodded, pressing the notebook to her chest, and we went on.

The first months were tough. Sonya tried her hardest, but math was difficult for her. However, in drawing lessons, she was transformed—the quiet girl was unrecognizable when she picked up pencils.

‘Tatyana Ivanovna, could you stay for a minute?’ Marina Petrovna, the drawing teacher, called me after a parent meeting one day.

I tensed—teachers usually don’t hold you back just like that.

‘Sonya has an amazing talent,’ she pulled out an album. ‘Look at this.’

On the sheet was a landscape—our street in autumn. But the way she saw it! Every leaf, every puddle reflecting the sky…

‘We need to develop her talent. There’s an art school in the district…’

I sighed. Art school means money. And with a library salary, we were barely making ends meet.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I responded.

That evening, as Sonya did her homework and I prepared dinner, there was a knock at the door. On the threshold stood Grandma Zina, our neighbor.

‘Tan, here…’ she extended a bag. ‘Apples were plentiful this year, the girl needs vitamins. And raspberry jam.’

I was taken aback:

 

‘But Zinaida Nikolayevna, really…’

‘Take it, take it,’ she waved her hand. ‘And this… I sometimes do odd jobs, cleaning apartments in the city. If you want, I can recommend you. They pay decently.’

That’s how my ‘black’ weekends started—twice a month, I’d go to the city to clean. Sonya stayed with Grandma Zina, who taught her to bake pies and told her stories.

By the end of first grade, we had saved enough for art school. True, it required two bus rides, but Sonya never complained.

Problems started in middle school. Adolescence is tricky, and then there were those eternal questions about the past.

‘Why did they leave me?’ she asked one evening as we drank tea. ‘Was I bad?’

My heart clenched.

‘Sonya, listen…’

‘No, you listen!’ she jumped up, overturning the cup. ‘All normal people know who their parents are! And I… I’m nobody! A foundling!’

‘Stop it!’

‘What, does the truth hurt?’ she stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door so hard that plaster fell.

Barsik, aged and even more corpulent, scurried under the sofa.

I didn’t follow her—I knew it was pointless. In such moments, it’s better to let her cool down. I sat in the kitchen, mechanically wiping up the tea spill, thinking—maybe I did something wrong? Maybe I should have then…

The front door slammed. I jumped up—it was almost ten at night.

‘Sonya!’

Silence in response.

Throwing on a jacket, I rushed outside. The rain drizzled, every other streetlight was out. Where could she have gone?

I ran down our street, then the next. I checked the playground—empty. Horrible images spun in my head—maniacs, accidents, dogs…

She was found at the old cemetery—sitting on a bench near Grandma Zina’s grave, who had died a year ago.

‘Sonya…’

She lifted her head—soaked, teeth chattering.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to…’

I silently took off my jacket, draped it over her shoulders, and sat next to her.

‘You know,’ I said after a long silence, ‘when I found you, I thought—well, she’ll stay a bit and leave. To an orphanage or to relatives, if they’re found. But then… then you started drawing those doodles on the wallpapers…’

‘They were unicorns!’ she protested through tears.

‘Yeah, especially that purple one, with three tails,’ I smiled. ‘And I realized—I won’t let you go. Because you’re mine. Not by blood, but by heart. And I don’t care who your real parents are. For me, the real one is you.’

She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed. We sat like that, probably for 10 minutes—wet, frozen, but somehow… purified, I guess.

‘Mom,’ she said as we walked home. ‘Can I repaint my room? In purple?’

‘The one with a violet shade or the one with a pinkish tint?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘Let’s try both?’

The following weekend we spent painting the walls. I still couldn’t figure out which shade it ended up being, but Sonya was happy.

By the age of fifteen, she already knew she wanted to be an artist. Her works regularly won at district contests, and one was even sent to a regional exhibition.

‘Mom, look!’ she burst into the house, waving some paper. ‘I’ve been invited to a master class at the art school! In the city, for a whole week!’

I felt a chill. A week in the city—accommodation, food, materials…

‘Great,’ I forced a smile. ‘When?’

‘In a month!’ she flopped down on the sofa next to me. ‘Imagine, there will be a real artist from Moscow! And they’ll teach us to paint with oil!’

That evening, I took out the stash—a small part of what I had saved for her college fund. I counted it—should be enough. We’ll figure something out.

That week changed everything. Sonya came back different—matured, with sparkling eyes and a firm intention to apply to the art school after ninth grade.

‘But what about school?’ I was bewildered.

‘I’ll take external exams! The teacher said I have all the chances to get in on a budget. Can you imagine?’

I could. I imagined her moving to the city, how I’d stay alone in this house, every corner soaked with memories. How I’d wait for her letters and her rare visits on weekends.

‘Mom,’ she sat next to me, taking my hand. ‘I won’t leave forever. I’ll come every weekend. And then I’ll return—to set up an art studio for kids here. You’ll see!’

I looked at her—not a child anymore, but not yet an adult. A stubborn chin, eyes that turn green when she’s nervous. My girl. When did she grow up?

‘Alright,’ I said. ‘But on one condition.’

‘Which?’

‘You’ll send me all your works. I want to be the first to see your masterpieces.’

She laughed and hugged me tightly.

That evening, I couldn’t sleep for a long time. I went out to the porch, sat on the old bench. Somewhere far away, dogs barked, and it smelled of ripe apples from Grandma Zina’s former garden. Life is strangely arranged—it goes on, follows its usual course, and then suddenly—bang!—and everything changes because of one encounter on the road, one decision, one moment…

‘Mom, why aren’t you sleeping?’ Sonya came out, wrapped in a blanket. She sat next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

‘I was just thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘About how quickly you’ve grown.’

She was silent for a moment, then said:

‘You know, sometimes I think—what if you had walked past that day? Or if I had been somewhere else?’

‘I don’t know,’ I hugged her shoulders. ‘I guess it was meant to be.’

We sat on the porch until dawn, making plans for the future and reminiscing about the past. In the morning, I started gathering documents for her external exams.

Her readiness for college became our common cause. I worked two jobs, she studied at night, preparing for exams. At times, it seemed we wouldn’t make it, we’d break. But we managed. She got in.

Time in the city changed Sonya. She spread her wings—new friends, exhibitions, creative evenings. In the first year, she called every day, then less often, but always sent photos of her works. I printed them and hung them on the walls—creating a whole gallery.

The house without her seemed unusually quiet. Even Barsik, who by then had turned into a real old man, wandered the rooms mournfully, as if looking for someone.

‘Mom, just don’t worry,’ she said once over the phone. ‘But I think I’ve found a way to learn about my past.’

Inside, everything in me froze.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Remember that jacket I was wearing? Do you still have it?’

Of course, I kept it. The little blue jacket lay in the back drawer of the dresser along with other keepsakes.

‘There’s a tag in the lining with the name of a tailor shop. I found it—it’s still in business! Maybe they remember who ordered the jacket?’

I was silent, not knowing what to say. On one hand, I understood her desire to know the truth. On the other…

‘Mom? Are you there?’

‘Yes, dear. Just… are you sure you want to know this?’

She was silent, then said softly:

‘I need to close this door. Otherwise, it’ll remain ajar.’

I took out the jacket. It still smelled of mothballs and, strangely, apples—probably from being stored next to jars of jam in the dresser.

A week later, Sonya came home—thin, with dark circles under her eyes.

‘Well?’ I asked, seating her at the table and pouring tea.

‘Nothing,’ she shook her head. ‘The shop changed owners, all the old order journals are gone. Dead end.’

She suddenly burst into tears—the first time in many years.

‘You know what’s funny? I don’t even know what I wanted. Find them? And then what?’

I hugged her, stroking her back:

 

‘My dear…’

‘No, really,’ she wiped her eyes. ‘Imagine—I had found them. And what? Would I have said, «Hello, I’m that same girl you left many years ago. How are you?»‘

She bitterly smirked:

‘And then I sat in the bus and thought—it’s they who lost, not me. They lost the chance to see how I grow, draw my first pictures, get into school… And you—you’ve been there all along. You’re the real mom, not the one who gave birth to me.’

I was silent because I couldn’t speak—a lump in my throat got in the way.

‘Remember the day you found me?’ she suddenly asked.

‘Of course.’

‘I remember more than I said. I remember being taken out of the car, told to wait… I sat there almost a day until you came.’

She went to the window:

‘You know what I realized? Sometimes people leave your life so that others—the real ones—can appear.’

Two years later, Sonya organized her first personal exhibition. I came to the city, dressed up and excited, with a bouquet of wildflowers—her favorites.

The gallery was full of people. Fashionably dressed women, men in expensive suits, artists with beards—all discussing my girl’s paintings. And I walked from work to work, my heart ready to burst with pride.

‘And here’s the heroine of the day!’ a voice called from behind.

I turned around—a gray-haired man in a tweed jacket extended his hand:

‘You’re Sophia’s mother, aren’t you? I’m her painting teacher. You know, your daughter has an amazing talent—she sees the soul of things.’

‘My daughter’—how wonderful that sounded!

‘Mom!’ Sonya made her way through the crowd to me. ‘Come on, I want to show you something.’

She led me to a large painting at the back of the hall. I froze.

In the painting, I saw our old road—the same one, broken, with tractor ruts. The huge oak we always called ‘grandfather’ spread its gnarled branches. And under it—two figures: me, with shopping bags (God, she even remembered my ridiculous green raincoat!), and tiny Sonya in that same blue jacket. We were holding hands, and around us, red leaves danced. And you know what’s most amazing? From somewhere above, right through the gray clouds, a golden ray of light shone—just like that day. I didn’t even remember it, but she… she remembered.

‘It’s called «The Encounter,»‘ Sonya said softly. ‘Do you like it?’

I looked at the painting, and our whole life flashed before my eyes—first steps, first joys and grievances, ups and downs, quarrels and reconciliations… Twenty-five years that flickered by like one day.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

‘It’s to you, thank you,’ she hugged me tightly. ‘For everything.’

That evening, we sat in her rental apartment, drinking tea with cake and talking about everything under the sun. On the wall hung a photo of Barsik—he had passed away last winter, quietly and peacefully, in his sleep.

‘By the way,’ Sonya suddenly bustled, ‘I have news for you. Remember I talked about the art studio in our village?’

I nodded.

‘Well, I applied for a grant. And…,’ she paused, ‘they approved it! Can you believe it? Now we’ll have our own studio!’

‘In our village?’ I couldn’t believe it.

‘Why not?’ she shrugged. ‘Children grow up there too. And they also need art. Besides…’ she squinted slyly, ‘someone has to look after you in your old age.’

‘Ah, you!’ I jokingly swung a towel at her.

She dodged with a laugh:

‘Just first, we need to do some repairs on the house. The porch has really deteriorated…’

‘And the fence is leaning,’ I chimed in.

‘And the garden has overgrown…’

We looked at each other and laughed. So many plans ahead, so much hope!

And the painting ‘The Encounter’ now hangs in our living room. And every time I look at it, I think: how wonderfully life is arranged—sometimes you just need to not walk by, to find the most important thing.»

Sveta, I’m leaving you!» her husband solemnly declared. «You’ve gained weight, gone gray, and those awful wrinkles have appeared.

0

Denis resolutely pushed the plate of borscht away from him and, with an indifferent, careless tone, as if even solemnly, declared:

«Sveta, I’m leaving you!»

The forty-five-year-old woman, stunned by such unexpected words, dropped the cup she was holding, which shattered into pieces upon hitting the tiled floor. Sveta looked at her husband and, seeing his serious expression, realized he was not joking. She froze, silently wrapping her arms around herself.

Sveta had lived with her husband in what she thought was a happy marriage 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, like a whip, struck her where it hurt most, shaking her deeply. Sveta had not yet fully grasped the reality of the situation. She raised a bewildered look to her husband and asked in a broken voice:

«How can you leave? Where, Denis? After all, we’ve been together for a quarter of a century!»

«Exactly!» the man replied irritably, abruptly standing up and fixing his wife with a scintillating gaze, «I’ve lived with you for twenty-five years. But what have you become during this time? Tell me, where is that young, beautiful, slim, carefree girl I once fell in love with? Just look at what you’ve turned into! You’ve gained weight, started to go gray, and now these annoying wrinkles too. Well, that would be half the trouble, but all you have in your head are cutlets, borscht, cleaning, laundry. No wonder I’m fed up with such a life. There’s absolutely nothing to talk to you about. And I don’t want to bury myself alive, sorry. I deserve more. I hope we can divorce calmly, without hysterics. I’ve fallen in love with another woman and you need to understand that. She’s younger, more interesting, more beautiful, and is expecting my child. I’ll soon be a father again, so please let me go without a scandal. I haven’t loved you for a long time, Sveta, sorry.»

 

Sveta sank into a chair and desperately clutched her head with both hands. Denis’s words inflicted unbearable pain. She could not come to terms with the fact 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 traded a loyal, loving, caring wife for one who was younger and more attractive.

«Leave,» Sveta barely managed to utter the words, her head bowed low.

Denis silently left the kitchen. He quickly packed his things and left, announcing at the door that he would file for divorce soon. Sveta 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 did not go to bed. She gently leaned against the wall and sat, hugging her legs, until morning. In the morning, Sveta had to go to work. She met the dawn with a haggard, frightening look. Suddenly, Sveta realized that she had no desire to work, and she could hardly get up from her place. She called her boss and said she was sick and could not come to work, asked for unpaid leave, and plunged into her grief. She stopped cooking, eating, taking care of herself, and looking after the house. From morning till evening, Sveta spent in bed, staring blankly at one spot, mourning her fate.

This continued until one day, her son Artem unexpectedly arrived with his young wife. Artem had decided to surprise his mother, so he showed up 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 vanilla aroma of fresh baking always emanated from the kitchen, so the scene that greeted him was a real shock.

«Mom, 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 examining the chandelier.

«Your father left me,» Sveta confessed in a trembling voice, directing a dimmed gaze at her son, stunned by the news.

«What do you mean… left?» Artem managed to say, tightly gripping his mother’s hand.

Sveta told her son and daughter-in-law everything that had happened in their family. The young couple looked at each other in surprise. They began to console Sveta, who had started crying again, convincing her that life had not stopped, that a new, happy life awaited her. However, Sveta shook her head in despair, saying that she had no future left.

«Svetlana Nikolaevna, I’m begging you, hold on. Everything will be alright, you’ll see. You’re a young, beautiful, interesting woman. You’ll meet your fate and be happy,» Marina tried to reassure her mother-in-law, but she didn’t want to hear it.

«There’s no use comforting me. I understand everything. I’m no longer that young girl Denis fell in love with twenty-five years ago. My life is over. It’s lost its meaning. What’s there to hope for in the twilight of my years? I’ve gained weight, gone gray, wrinkles have appeared…»

Her son and daughter-in-law’s words brought Sveta no comfort. She fell into an even deeper depression, realizing that her youth had irretrievably gone, and she was utterly alone. Artem thought long about how to help his severely suffering mother. He had been deeply attached to her since childhood, so seeing his mother in such a disheartening state was unbearable.

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

Sveta 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. Well, don’t 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 in the evening. Tell Marina not to worry and to work with a clear conscience. Agreed.»

Sveta hung up the phone and immediately began to dress. She was going to the village to take care of her daughter-in-law’s ailing grandmother. Artem had informed his mother by phone that Tamara Ivanovna was ill and needed care. He also mentioned that Marina couldn’t get time off work and was in despair, not knowing what to do. Sveta gladly volunteered to help her daughter-in-law’s grandmother, with whom she had warm relations. Sveta also hoped that caring for an elderly, sick woman would distract her from her gloomy, intrusive 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. Sveta 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 forgot.»

Sveta 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. At first glance, she understood that a real handyman, a master of all trades, lived in the neighboring house. Sveta loudly called Konstantin, and he appeared after a few seconds. He opened the gate and politely greeted Sveta, who was captivated by the well-kept yard of the man’s house, utterly enchanted by his garden. For a moment, she felt as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. The man himself also made a pleasant impression on her. Sveta was so mesmerized by the captivating beauty around her 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 friendly voice, curiously examining his neighbor’s guest.

«Thank you, but I need to return to Tamara Ivanovna. I’m afraid to leave her alone for too long,» Sveta replied, trying to imagine the woman who was the mistress of this house and Konstantin’s wife.

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

«My neighbor is a good man,» Tamara Ivanovna muttered, sitting at the table with Sveta and finishing her tea, «Such men are hard to find these days. Industrious, responsible, kind, and he can do anything around the house and in the 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 deplorable state. There was no garden, no vegetable garden, no beautiful yard on that plot. Konstantin did everything with his own hands. Not just a man, but gold, it’s just a pity that he hasn’t found a kindred soul. He’s completely alone.»

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

«Svetochka, my dear, come here,» the elderly woman called her guest.

Sveta hurried into the house:

«Yes, Tamara Ivanovna, did you call me? Are you alright?»

«I’m fine, but something happened to our meter. There’s no electricity in the house. My series is about to start. And I can’t live without it. Go fetch Konstantin. Let him take a look and fix it.»

Sveta obediently went for the neighbor, who immediately 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 Sveta to bake her favorite strawberry pie. Sveta fulfilled the elderly woman’s request, delighted that she had regained her appetite. During tea, 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 series. Go to him. He’s probably doing something in the yard right now, even without having lunch.»

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

Soon, Konstantin himself began to visit Tamara Ivanovna and Sveta. He visited the «sick» neighbor, brought her medicinal herbs, helped tidy up her yard. Tamara Ivanovna, with a self-satisfied, mischievous smile, watched how Konstantin and Sveta, forgetting about everything in the world, passionately talked to each other and realized that her plan had worked brilliantly. The man and woman did not notice how they became attached to each other.

 

One day, during another tea party, Konstantin told Sveta 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 that I had to drastically change my life. In the village, I found myself, forgot about the past, and learned to be happy in the present.»

Sveta was amazed at the neighbor, thinking about the woman who decided to leave such a man as Konstantin. She was sure that Konstantin’s ex-wife regretted her decision more than once. Sveta involuntarily compared Konstantin with Denis and realized that her ex-husband was significantly inferior to Tamara Ivanovna’s neighbor. Konstantin was a real man, a person who knew how to 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 with him. Sveta simply enjoyed the carefree life in the village, the summer sun, and the pleasant, inspiring communication with her new acquaintance. But Sveta’s mood suddenly changed the moment she realized that her vacation was coming to an end and she would soon 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 announced that she had recovered, thanks to Sveta’s tireless care.

Sveta, without much enthusiasm, packed her things in the evening and went outside to say goodbye to the village, which had become her own and beloved. She did not notice that Konstantin was approaching her.

«Are you leaving?» he asked thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the saddened woman.

«Yes,» Sveta replied regretfully, «It’s time. Tamara Ivanovna has recovered. My vacation is over. The city is waiting for 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 the bewildered neighbor and timidly took her hand.

«Maybe you’ll stay? I see that you don’t want to leave. And I don’t want that either. Sveta, I’ve become so attached to you that I can’t imagine living without you.»

«Konstantin,» Sveta stammered, taken aback by the surprise, «I really have to leave. I have my own life in the city. Work, apartment, friends, son.»

Sveta’s words were an attempt to convince herself of the correctness of her decision. Deep down, she did not want to part with Konstantin but was afraid that staying in the village would be a mistake. But when Konstantin unexpectedly embraced Sveta by the waist and pulled her to him, all fears and doubts immediately dispersed. She realized that she had hopelessly fallen in love with Tamara Ivanovna’s neighbor and could not now live far from him. Sveta willingly accepted his embrace.

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

Sveta knew that, no matter how much she wanted to stay with the beloved man in his small, cozy paradise, she could not just abandon everything she had before meeting him.

«My job is waiting for me in the city,» she whispered shakily, pressing her body against Konstantin’s.

«Then I’ll go with you to the ends of the earth. I can’t be without you. I’ll be by your side, just call.»

Sveta, without a second thought, invited the man, without whom she could no longer imagine her life, to come with her. He moved into her apartment. By that time, Sveta was already divorced from Denis, and they with Kostya filed an application at the registry office. Tender feelings miraculously transformed the woman. Now she radiated happiness, which was felt in every word, look, gesture. Sveta blossomed like a flower that, after a long drought, finally quenched its thirst with warm rain. Her son and daughter-in-law sincerely rejoiced at the changes occurring with Sveta. They thanked Tamara Ivanovna, who gently and delicately brought two lonely souls together, so in need of love and tenderness. Every weekend, Sveta 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 preparing to go to the village for the weekend. Konstantin was at the store. When suddenly there was a ring at the door, Sveta hurried to open it, assuming that her husband had forgotten to take his keys with him. She was stunned by surprise, seeing Denis with a one-year-old boy on the doorstep.

«Denis?!» Sveta exclaimed, throwing up her hands, «What are you doing here?»

«Hello, Sveta,» the man said timidly, «Will you let me in?»

«Denis, why did you come? I thought that everything between us was long over.»

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

From her ex-husband, Sveta learned that the woman he had left her for had abandoned him with a one-year-old child in his arms and ran off with a young and promising man. Denis was forced to take care of the child and pay for the rent of the apartment where they lived. Sveta understood that her ex-husband was looking for an easy way out, that it was not 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 question 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 burst out laughing.

Before Sveta could respond, Konstantin, who had returned from the store, appeared at the doorway. He looked questioningly first at his wife, 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. Do we have guests?»

«A person got the wrong 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. Sveta 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 with Denis. They were completely different people. Sveta tightly embraced Konstantin, feeling that she had found her true happiness.

The husband begged to disconnect his wife from the machines, but something unexpected happened.

0

Hey Dad, Dad!»

The man, quietly conversing with a young woman so as not to disturb other patients, turned to his daughter.

«Nastya, behave yourself.»

«Dad, I’m tired of sitting here. I’ve already told Liza everything. Can I walk down the hall?»

«Nastya, of course not. There are sick people here; they need peace.»

The woman smiled.

«Vit, don’t be so strict. Nastya will just walk around. Right, girl? She won’t bother anyone.»

 

The girl nodded energetically, then showed her father as if she was locking her mouth with a key. Viktor smiled. He adored his daughter. Just as much as his sister, whom he affectionately called Lizka. She was hospitalized with appendicitis, but now everything was fine, and she was to be discharged in a couple of days.

They all missed her, especially Nastya, since Liza had replaced her mother, although she was still quite young herself. When Viktor’s wife died, Liza came immediately.

«Casually,» she had said. «I’ll stay with you, it’ll be easier with Nastya, and anyway.»

Viktor knew Liza had sacrificed her career. Temporarily, but still. She worked at a large company where she was predicted to have a successful future, and she left just before a promotion.

Nastya went out into the corridor, looked around. It seemed no one paid attention to her, so she could again go see the sleeping princess. Behind a glass door, on a strange bed, lay a beautiful princess.

She was so beautiful that Nastya was breathless. The girl was sure she was indeed the sleeping princess, as Liza had recently read her a fairy tale.

But in the fairy tale, a prince woke the princess, but here she still slept. Nastya reasoned, «Maybe the prince got lost or something happened to him, and the princess fell asleep again.»

The girl slowly walked down the corridor. Patients walked back and forth. Some children also came to visit, so no one paid attention to Nastya. When she returned to the ward, she heard her father’s question:

«Well, did you have a good walk?»

The girl looked scared.

«Dad, tell me, can sleeping princesses be given injections not by doctors but by just people?»

«Well, why not? Doctors are people too. They can’t always be in white coats.»

Nastya sighed with relief. She kissed Liza.

«We’ll come again tomorrow. Don’t miss us.»

Liza hugged her niece.

«Oh, you don’t need to come tomorrow. If everything is okay, they’ll discharge me the day after tomorrow.»

Nastya frowned.

«No, we’ll still come to make sure everything is okay.»

Liza laughed, and Viktor said with a smile:

«You can’t fool our Nastya.»

The next day at the clinic began with confusion. No doctors had encountered a situation where relatives themselves demanded to disconnect a patient from machines. Usually, it was the opposite.

Liza barely caught the attending doctor. Roman Evgenievich stopped, looked at her with a strange glance, then shook his head.

«Ah, Elizaveta, what’s wrong? Worried?»

«Worried. You didn’t come today, and I don’t know whether to prepare for discharge tomorrow? I need to warn the relatives to bring things.»

«Elizaveta, let’s do this. I have an important council now. Honestly, I can’t think of anything else. I’ll visit everyone closer to evening and explain everything. And call the relatives. Agreed?»

Liza sighed.

«Agreed.»

«Can I go home today?»

«Today you can’t. It’s only been three days since the surgery.»

Liza sighed and, head bowed, went back to the ward. The doctor stood as if remembering where he was going, then raised his finger and quickly walked down the corridor.

Roman Evgenievich had felt uneasy since the morning. He was an old-school doctor and used to fight for a patient’s life to the end. But here a complicated situation arose. And most surprisingly, some colleagues supported the patient’s husband, who insisted on disconnecting her from the machines.

He couldn’t understand it. Yes, the brain was in a state of sleep, but it wasn’t dead. It’s unknown how long she could lie in such a state. But there were no clear indications for disconnection. Yes, the chances of recovery were minimal, but they were still there. If not for her husband’s persistence, this question might not even have arisen.

Half an hour later, all the doctors who observed Inna gathered in the ward. She had been admitted to them after falling from a great height. According to the protocol, she climbed into the attic of her house, supposedly for a cat, but lost her balance and fell.

The house was two-story and sturdy, so the fall was serious. She was immediately taken to the hospital. Numerous fractures, injuries. But the most dangerous thing was that the woman almost immediately fell into a coma.

Doctors hoped it was a reaction to pain shock, and that she would soon wake up. But time passed, and there were no improvements. Yesterday evening, her husband called and demanded to disconnect Inna from the machines.

«I’ve been living in limbo for a long time! Honestly, I’ve already mentally buried her. Even if you ever wake her up, she’ll most likely be a vegetable. At best. It’s been over three months. I’m her heir, and I demand to settle this matter.»

Talking to this person was unpleasant. But he really had the right to such a demand. However, the final decision remained with the council. If the majority votes «for,» the machines will be disconnected. If not, the process may drag on for another three months. And everyone understood that the man only wanted money. He was lazy and a do-nothing.

As Roman Evgenievich expected, opinions were divided. Half the doctors thought they should continue to fight. What «vegetable» can there be if the brain functions? All hemispheres work. It’s necessary to find the reason why the patient does not come out of the coma.

One of the young doctors sneered.

«You think the old-fashioned way. Look at the situation from another angle. What about the relatives? How should they live?»

Roman Evgenievich got angry.

«And what about the relatives? It’s not their life. Deciding whether to deprive a person of life or not can only be done by higher powers.»

«Roman Evgenievich, you might as well suggest we pray.»

«Some might benefit from praying, to cleanse themselves of sin a bit.»

The young doctor meaningfully looked at the patient’s husband, as if twirling his finger at his temple. He stepped forward.

«Listen, why do you need extra problems? You understand, sooner or later they will disconnect her anyway. I’m the heir, and I’ll remember who hindered me. She doesn’t move, doesn’t react for more than three months. Isn’t it obvious that this is the end?»

Doctors exchanged glances. Of course, there were indications, but in some ways, the man was right: after such a term, the chances of recovery were practically zero.

«Well, colleagues, your opinion?»

The ward fell silent for a moment. Then it was interrupted by a child’s voice:

«Not true. This beautiful aunt opened her eyes, smiled at me, and then this uncle came, she got scared, he gave her an injection, and she fell asleep again.»

Roman Evgenievich rushed to the source of the voice.

«You? Do you come to Elizaveta Sidorova?»

«Yes, and every time I visit this beautiful aunt. Yesterday she opened her eyes and smiled.»

«This is nonsense! You’re going to listen to a child?» — the patient’s husband grabbed the girl by the shoulder, intending to push her out of the ward, but other doctors intervened.

The department head said sternly:

«Everyone, leave the ward. Put a guard at the door. Roman Evgenievich, find someone adult to stay with the child while we question her.»

«I won’t leave until you disconnect the machines!» — the man retreated under the doctor’s gaze. — «You’ll regret this.» — He ran out of the ward.

One of the doctors returned with Viktor. He looked scared.

«Nastya, sunshine, what have you done?»

Roman Evgenievich reassured him:

«Don’t worry. The girl hasn’t done anything bad. We just need to ask her a few questions. We can’t do this without your presence. Let’s go to the office.»

«Nastenka, tell us again, only in more detail, what you saw.»

The girl sighed, looked at her father, and sighed again.

«When we came to visit Liza, I always went to see the sleeping princess. This time I went again. I looked at her, and suddenly she opened her eyes. First, she looked around, and then she smiled at me. She whispered something, but I couldn’t hear it. Then that uncle came. The princess got scared, he gave her an injection, and she fell asleep again.»

Viktor nodded.

«Yes, yesterday my daughter asked if princesses can be given injections not by doctors, but by ordinary people. I didn’t take it seriously. I thought it was just children’s fantasies.»

The department head exclaimed:

«Wait, where was the nurse? Nastenka, did you see the nurse?»

«Well yes, she was there too. But when the uncle came, they… they kissed, and she left.»

The room fell into dead silence. Then Roman Evgenievich said:

«Could this be why the journal disappeared?»

Everyone looked at each other, and the chief physician said:

«Okay, I’m calling the police. You all go to the patient. Do all the tests, record all the readings, but find out what he injected her with.»

Now the hospital was in real chaos. Doctors and nurses were running around as if they all had jet engines. Then the police arrived. Then the head of the department brought the nurse into his office.

She was led out of the hospital. All the patients who could move on their own spilled into the corridor. You can’t hide a sewing needle in a sack, and many began to leave home on their own. There was so much noise, as if it wasn’t a hospital, but a madhouse.

Viktor sat with Liza for a long time. He didn’t understand whether he and Nastya could go home, or if they were still needed. Just before the hospital closed to visitors, a tired Roman Evgenievich came to them.

«Liza, home tomorrow. Could you leave your phone number? You’ll probably be called to the station along with your daughter to give testimony? Yes, of course.»

Viktor wrote down everything required and handed it to the doctor. Nastya touched his hand.

«Did the sleeping princess wake up?»

The doctor smiled.

«Almost. Very close. It’s a matter of a few hours. Imagine, you saved her life. Or woke her up.»

The doctor left the office, and Liza and Viktor said simultaneously:

«Well, Nastya.»

She blurted out by habit:

«And what about Nastya? Why immediately Nastya?»

Then she fell silent, confused. They weren’t scolding her, were they?

Almost a month passed since Liza was discharged from the hospital. She had already forgotten that they had once removed something from her. Today was Nastya’s 7th birthday. And at home, they were preparing for the celebration. Her birthday was on the eve of Victory Day. And therefore, the mood was somewhat festive.

 

They sat down at the table at five. Nastya’s friends came, their parents, and just as they began to cut the cake, the doorbell rang. Viktor raised an eyebrow in surprise. Who could it be? Liza waved her hand.

«I’ll open it.»

She returned a minute later with wide eyes.

«Nastya, you have guests!»

Behind Liza, an incredibly beautiful woman entered the room. Behind her, two short-haired men, who carried boxes and bags.

«Hello! Hello, my savior!»

Nastya jumped up and clapped her hands.

«Hooray! The sleeping princess woke up! And you’re even more beautiful than when you were asleep!»

Inna sat down and hugged her.

«Thank you, my dear. I will never forget this. And I will always help you throughout your life. Well, my life, actually.»

«Inna? No way.»

She straightened up, looked at Viktor in surprise.

«Vitka, Sidorov? How? Wait, is this your daughter?»

He nodded, and then couldn’t help himself. He hugged Inna, and she hugged him back.

«Vitka, you always protected me from everyone at school, and now? Now your daughter saved me.»

Absolutely no one understood anything. Viktor explained.

«Inna and I went to the same school. Everyone was in love with her, including me. But since I was an athlete, only I was allowed to escort Inna and fend off her persistent suitors.»

She laughed.

«And then we moved, I lost my protector, and I married him. Well, let’s not talk about the sad things. Come on, guys, bring out the gifts. I hope there’s a place for me at your table.»

Liza winked at her older brother and whispered:

«It looks like I can now peacefully return to my career.»

Viktor blushed, showed his sister a fist, and rushed to help Inna. His mind was in complete chaos. Only one thought was clear: «The princess has woken up, the princess is single, and she’s here.»

And a year later, Nastya’s mother became the princess. And also, she promised that soon she would have a little prince brother.

Навигация по записям
The old man was tidying his son’s grave when his dog began digging in the ground. The discovery alarmed the entire village.
I’ve decided to give you a second chance,» said the husband business-like, after he himself had recently kicked his wife out of the house.

Having received a house in the wilderness, the abandoned nurse went out for firewood in the frost and found something unexpected in the forest..

0

Barbara Solovyova sat in the doctor’s office and wept bitterly. The young nurse couldn’t come to terms with her beloved husband’s betrayal: it turned out that Gena had been cheating on her for the last couple of years and was even planning to marry his mistress!

«What a nightmare, oh Lord!» thought Varya to herself, «And to think he traded me for that flibbertigibbet! Well, yes—she’s the daughter of a deputy, all fancy and pampered, and I am what? Just a simple nurse at a city hospital… But we lived together for four years, it’s not just ‘rip and discard’… Oh God, why me?»

This happened about a week ago: it was Varya’s day off, and she decided to surprise Gennady. She cooked his favorite roast with salad and went to his workplace. Gena worked at a large firm that created advertising on building facades and road billboards, so he often stayed late at work due to constant meetings and «planning sessions,» where he, along with colleagues, resolved customer issues.

As she reached the right floor, the woman walked down the corridor to her husband’s office; she was already anticipating how Gena would be delighted to see her.

At that moment, behind the doors of Gennady’s office, a woman’s laughter was heard, and then—Varya heard:

«Gena, wait… Don’t rush… Gena, it tickles!»—The girl squealed, followed by a loud thud in the office.

«What is that?»—Varya stared in shock at the door to her husband’s office.

Varya decisively pulled the door handle. Of course, it was locked.

«Open up, Gena! Open it now!»—Varya exclaimed.—»It’s me!»

For a second, all sounds behind the door stopped. Then some rustling was heard, after which her husband finally opened the door. He looked a sight: his shirt was unbuttoned to the middle, and traces of dark burgundy lipstick were visible on his face. In addition, the man was struggling with his belt…

Varya felt as if she had just been «slapped» in the face—the humiliation was something she had never experienced in her life. Looking over her husband’s shoulder—the woman saw her: a gorgeous blonde in a tight short dress had already smoothed her long hair, and now she was adjusting the strap of her dress while looking at a small elegant mirror. Catching Varya’s glance—she just smirked maliciously.

«What are you doing here, Varya?»—Her husband asked indignantly.—»Why did you come here?»

Instead of answering, Varya just sneered bitterly:

«Yes, I was wondering that too, Gena… Really, why did I come here? I just wanted to please my eternally hungry husband, brought him food… And, it turns out, he’s busy with far more important matters…»

Varya could hardly remember what happened next. She stood and cried, stunned by the bitterness of the betrayal by the person closest to her… As for the beauty, she just slowly «floated» past Varya, on the way sizing up the lawful wife from head to toe. Lastly, she threw over her shoulder to her lover:

«As soon as you sort out your problem here, be sure to call me. I will always wait for you, my kitty…»

That same evening, Gennady seriously started talking about divorce:

«Well, we’re not suited for each other, Varya. It happens. Let’s separate like normal people…»

Varya, pale as a sheet, sat in front of him on the couch—and couldn’t believe what was happening.

«How could you, Gena? What did I do to you? And most importantly, how is this, your chick, better than me?»

Tears welled up in the nurse’s eyes of their own accord.

«I love you, Gena… Truly love you…»

However, in her husband’s eyes, there was nothing but fatigue and a faint glimmer of regret. He squatted in front of her and hugged the woman by the shoulders:

«Oh, Varya, why are you killing yourself over this, for God’s sake… You’re twenty-five already, not a girl. And I’ve cooled towards you—there’s no longer the passion that was there before.»

«And you have passion for her?!»—Covering her face with her hands, Varya asked. It was so painful and insulting that she couldn’t put it into words. Yes, I’m twenty-five, but what does that change?..

«Yes, Varya, it changes everything…»—the husband said slowly and got up.—»Look at yourself. All day at that job of yours—I always see you either in uniform or in pajamas… What love, what tenderness, tell me?..»

Gennady hesitated a bit, but still continued:

«And Lyuda… Lyuda is completely different. It’s sparks, it’s delight, it’s magic and a celebration of beauty, in the end! I’ve felt such emotions with her for the first time in my life, which we never felt in all our four years of marriage… Besides, she’s only twenty, in her prime. I don’t think I need to explain to you how many advantages that gives Lyuda over you.»

«Gena…,» Varya sobbed,— «How can you even say that to me?..»

Gennady looked at his wife, and then—the woman saw in his eyes the most natural coldness—he seemed to have already stopped considering her his wife. As if—they were both already strangers to each other…

«Varya, I made Lyuda a proposal.»—Gennady stated resolutely.

«What??»—The nurse could not believe her ears.

«And she has already agreed,»—continued her husband,— «It will be better if we get a divorce as soon as possible. We don’t have kids, so, I think, it will all go quickly enough…»

Varya didn’t know what to respond. She sat there in tears and felt how her life was crumbling to dust. Not the life she had dreamed of when getting married… Yes, they had failed to have children all this time, but Varya had hoped that the right moment simply hadn’t come yet. Now, it turned out that Gennady had not planned to build a full-fledged family with her at all…

«And, by the way, since we’re talking about divorce—we should discuss the division of property… I’ve been thinking,»—Gennady shrugged and rubbed his hands, seemingly not knowing how best to tell his wife about his idea.—»Thought about buying you a solid house in the village? Such that you could live in it comfortably! You’re originally from the village—so that would be the best option for you.»

«And… what about our apartment?»—Wiping away tears, Varya asked.

«And the apartment, well…,»—The man hesitated for a moment, but then quickly said:—»The apartment will stay with me. After all, we bought it together, after the wedding—why should we divide these miserable square meters? Varechka, think about it yourself,—he quickly spoke, not giving his wife a chance to recover,— «Well, we sell this apartment, split the money, and then what? Those will be mere pennies, what are we, buy a room for ourselves? Sorry, but I’m not ready to live in some shack. And my job is not far, you understand… And this way, it’s a win-win for everyone—you get your own house in exchange for all acquired, and I—this apartment. All’s fair.»

Confused, Varya could not immediately respond: on one hand, her husband’s proposal, now almost an ex, seemed logical, but on the other…

«So, you’re suggesting I live out of town?»—She clarified.—»And what about my job, Gena?»

Gena grimaced and sourly said:

«Oh, Varya, don’t make me laugh, for God’s sake. What difference does it make to you where to work as a nurse—here, in the capital, or in a village? Anyway, nurses’ salaries are the same everywhere. You won’t lose much…»

In the end, Varya agreed, as suing was a long and likely losing process, not with her salary to engage in such a thing. Holy simplicity… She really thought that he would buy her a good house, somewhere close to the city. There, she would be able to start everything from scratch, and figure out what she had to do with her life next… And so, a month after the divorce—Gennady ceremoniously handed her the corresponding papers and keys to the house. He deliberately did not show his ex-wife her future home—citing his constant busyness.

Even now, when she asked him to drive her to the village where she was to live, Gennady flatly refused:

«Varya, be a person—call yourself a taxi! I’ve done all I could, on my part, for you. It’s time, my dear, for you to start living a new—completely independent and free from me life! I can’t keep helping you forever… And Lyuda will be upset if we’re late to her dad’s dinner invitation…»

Varya, although upset, couldn’t object: Gena was right, now each of them was on their own. Shrugging as if nothing terrible—she ordered a taxi herself and arrived at the address indicated in the papers.

«Gena, what a scoundrel you are!»—Varya nearly cried, scolding her ex-husband over the phone.—»How could you deceive me so brazenly??»

 

On the other end of the phone, an impatient sigh was heard:

«What, in your opinion, was my deception, Varvara?»—The husband asked coldly.

Varya stood in front of an old dilapidated two-story village house: to be honest, it looked more like a rundown shack than the «cute cottage» that Gennady had so enthusiastically described to her.

«That’s it, Gena—that’s it!»—Varya exclaimed.—»Just don’t lie to me that you didn’t see this house before buying it. You said it was comfortable rural housing, but here…»

«That’s it!»—Gena barked roughly,—»Don’t you show off! What I could find for decent money—I bought! Take what’s given and be quiet: are there four walls and a roof over your head? There are. So get settled. You’re a country woman, after all, or what?»

«Stop reproaching me for my past!»—Varya yelled back.—»I don’t want to live in such a horrible place! I’ll be scared to sleep here at night! Gena, I want you to immediately return to me all the money due for this shack. I’m sure I can buy a much better housing option for myself than this, so-called, ‘cottage’…»

The phone laughed sarcastically:

«Varya, wake up! The deal is irreversible! Or do you think I’ll rush right now to look for buyers for you? If something doesn’t suit you—figure it out yourself! Otherwise—I’ll call my future father-in-law. You know he’s a very important person. Just at the snap of his fingers—you’ll not only lose this house but everything else! Do you need that?»

Overcome with anger, Varya didn’t even know what to say. Finally, she said with contempt:

«My God, Gena—sometimes I think, how could I have lived with you for four years and not notice—how cynical and vile you are?.. I hope your new wife will soon realize that dealing with you is more trouble than it’s worth.»

With these words, the woman ended the conversation and walked into the yard of her new home. To Varya’s surprise, the interior of her house wasn’t that bad: of course, it required cosmetic repairs, and at least a week of cleaning. But, with some effort, everything was quite fixable. After all, Varya thought to herself—even though the house wasn’t pretty from the outside, it was still entirely hers. No one would just come and «ask» her to leave with her belongings, as her ex-husband had essentially done. After unpacking some of her things, the woman changed clothes and began cleaning the first floor.

While cleaning, the nurse remembered her past: she really grew up in a village, just located in a completely different region. Varya didn’t remember her parents—she was raised by her grandparents. Her grandmother, however, once said that her mother was a seamstress-motorist, worked at a clothing factory in the district center. Who the girl’s father was—Varya’s mother never told, and her grandmother didn’t insist on finding out.

Then, Varya’s mother fell seriously ill—caught a cold during one of the harsh village winters. The pneumonia the woman suffered caused serious complications to her heart, and six months later—Yekaterina (Varya’s mother’s name) died of a heart attack.

When young Varya graduated from school, she immediately headed to the city. She wanted to connect her life with medicine, but understood that she lacked the knowledge to enroll in university full-time. Therefore, the girl decided to start with medical college, where she trained as a nurse.

Just before graduation—a real tragedy happened in Varya’s life: Anna Ignatyevna, her grandmother, suddenly passed away. The elderly woman had been feeling unwell for some time but stubbornly refused to go to the hospital:

«Grandma, but it’s your health!»—Varya tried to convince her.—»Think about it, if, God forbid, something happens to you? And I’m not around, I’m in the city, studying. What then?»

«Well, the world isn’t without good people,»—the old lady shrugged her shoulders,— «Neighbors will help, they’ll call an ambulance…»

Unfortunately, the medics just didn’t make it in time that fateful day to the elderly patient. When Varya was informed of her grandmother’s death—the girl initially couldn’t believe it had happened—so unexpectedly it occurred.

Grandpa, Semyon Prokhorovich, also didn’t live much longer than his spouse: just a month after Anna Ignatyevna’s departure, a tragic accident took his life and practically all of Varya’s family’s modest estate. A fire broke out at night, suddenly. Firefighters later said that a tiny coal, inadvertently dropped by the grandfather from the stove, was the cause.

The loss of loved ones became a real trial for Varya: the girl couldn’t recover for a long time, so she even remembered the moment of her graduation from college poorly. In the photo, among the graduate students, the girl looked the saddest—there was not a hint of a smile on her face…

Gradually, life began to get back on track: Varya got a job as a nurse in a city hospital, and a little later—met Gena, whom she married. Now, four years later—she had to re-establish her life and start living literally «from scratch».

Finally, the house was put in order, and it started to look much cozier. Now, the woman had to figure out the job issue…

In the local paramedic’s office—the young nurse was welcomed with open arms due to the shortage of medical workers. Thus, Varya found a new job, and with it, some income. Soon, Varya also met her neighbor—a sixty-year-old woman, Lyubov Ivanovna Kunitsyna, a native villager who collected mushrooms, berries, and various medicinal herbs… Other villagers, although they considered Kunitsyna slightly strange and eccentric—never harmed her.

Lyubov Ivanovna lived alone, in a hut located at the very edge of the forest. Her only companion was her dog—Masha, who served her mistress faithfully in her forest trade.

One day the women chatted, and Lyubov Ivanovna invited the young nurse over for tea, where she told her about her unusual occupation.

Varya noticed that there were no family photos on the walls of Lyubov Ivanovna’s small house.

«Excuse me for such an indiscreet question,»—Varya said,— «But, do you really have no relatives? Doesn’t anyone visit you?»

Lyubov Ivanovna stopped smiling. She sighed heavily, and then—pointed to a small dresser behind the guest. Varya turned around and gasped—she hadn’t immediately noticed the photograph in a mourning frame standing on the dresser. The photo depicted a serious young man, looking at the camera calmly and somewhat distantly.

«My God,»—Varya whispered,— «Forgive me, Lyubov Ivanovna…»

«That’s okay, that’s my son, Nikita…»

The woman’s eyes slightly clouded over, as if she was slowly sinking into the past.

«I once had a husband and a son,»—Lyubov Ivanovna recounted,— «But neither of them is around anymore… Ignaty, my husband—went to God in Heaven seven years ago. He outlived Nikita by only six months…»

«I’m sorry for you,»—Varya sincerely sympathized.— «But, in the photo, your son looks quite young. What happened?»

Lyubov Ivanovna looked bitterly at her young guest.

«Nikita worked in the North, something related to the extraction of precious minerals. I didn’t delve into the details, nor did he talk much about it,»—the woman explained,— «His boss, when he called us, my husband and me, said that my son got caught in a fierce blizzard near their service ‘town’. He froze to death… They buried him there, so I don’t even know where my son’s grave is now…»

Lyubov Ivanovna breathed heavily—it was visible that she still hadn’t fully recovered after the loss of her only son. The elderly woman pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and began to wipe the tears rolling down her cheeks.

«Forgive me, Varya,»—she apologized,— «It’s just, whenever I remember all this—my heart feels like an old wound is reopening. It’s been so many years—I should have come to terms with it, but I just can’t…»

The old lady told Varya that Nikita was born late—they were already over forty years old at the time. They had been unable to have children for a long time, had completely despaired—but they were helped by a trip to a remote monastery.

«It was a real miracle!»—the woman recalled.

Lyubov Ivanovna told Varya that Nikita grew up very calm and intelligent, and only brought joy to his family until he turned sixteen.

The neighbor explained to the woman—she always wanted her son to stay close, help them around the farm, and get a job at the local farm, but Nikita had completely different plans for the future:

«My son’s heart was always hot, he was drawn to adventures and foreign cities. That’s why he left home. He traveled a lot, said he had almost traveled the whole country—so he sent news about himself very rarely. And seven years ago, we received that terrible news… Now, it’s so hard for me to come to terms with the fact that my closest people are no longer in this world…»

The elderly woman lovingly and sadly looked at her son’s photo.

«The only thing that saved me then,»—she continued,— «Is the appearance of Seryenki in my house. Without him, I can’t even imagine—what could have happened to me…»

«Seryenki?»—Varya was surprised.— «And who is that?»

Lyubov Ivanovna smiled:

«Oh, it was three years ago, in the spring.. I then met a wounded she-wolf in the forest… She was pregnant, lying in the bushes… Well, I helped her—gave birth to puppies, that is… Only, the wound she had was deep—she lost a lot of blood. Because of this, the she-wolf didn’t survive, and all her wolf pups perished. The only survivor, from the whole litter, was one… Poor thing, he was moving his little black nose around, squealing! Well, I took him, put him under my coat—and brought him home. Anyway, I couldn’t have helped his mom and brothers and sisters…»

«So, you brought a real wolf cub home?»—Varya was amazed.— «Wow! But how did you manage to raise him? Surely, special care is needed here…»

«My Masha nursed him,»—still smiling, Lyubov Ivanovna said,— «She had just given birth—less than a month since the birth had passed. But by that time, I had placed all her puppies with local hunters. The dog is pedigreed, even though she didn’t turn out to be large. So there was joy for everyone—my Masha found herself an adopted son, and I, that the little one wouldn’t perish.»

The neighbor seemed to glow when she talked about her second, four-legged favorite.

«When he grew up—he turned into such a handsome boy!»—the elderly woman recounted.— «Lean, long legs, all of smoky color—and on his chest, there’s a distinctive spot, slightly lighter than the main fur. That’s how I always recognized him when he ran home from his forest walks. We walked there together, my house is right next to the forest. But the forest called him, the wolf is a free creature, and he left. Now he comes sometimes—stays a little, as if checking if everything is okay with me—and then leaves again.»

Lyubov Ivanovna finished her story, and Varya was just amazed—what happens in the world! It’s a real miracle—to have a forest wolf as a «friend».

 

Varya herself later got to see Seryenki—the woman went into the forest for kindling, but tried not to go far into the thicket.

Several times, she froze as if rooted to the spot—seeing a wolf with that same, light-cream spot on its chest before her. Varya immediately understood who it was—so she tried to behave calmly but cautiously—after all, it’s a wild animal. He may have been good to her neighbor, but he didn’t know Varya herself, so the young nurse was still afraid of him.

One day, it was winter, mid-January—Varya, as usual, went to the forest for small kindling. When she had gathered enough branches, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Seryenki appeared before her.

«Oh, hello, little wolf,»—Varya said quietly and stopped, waiting for him to move deeper into the forest.

However, the wolf didn’t intend to leave. Instead, he began to run up to the woman in short bursts, then run back. The wolf seemed to be calling Varya to follow him.

«Do you want me to go with you?»—Varya asked him, and Seryenki impatiently dropped to his front paws, as if saying «yes».

«Alright, have it your way…,»—Varya said slowly and started carefully stepping through the deep snow.

It was bitterly cold outside, so the nurse had to wrap her old cotton coat tighter around her. The woman followed the wolf further and further until she finally came to a large clearing.

At first, Varya couldn’t understand what exactly she was seeing: parts of some mechanism were scattered everywhere. Near one of them—the woman could make out an oval pilot’s cabin and part of a blade… It was a helicopter that had crashed in the forest.

«My goodness!»—Varya exclaimed and immediately ran to the cabin.— «Is anyone alive!? Hey!»

The cabin was crushed, like a tin can, but inside, to Varya’s great relief—there was still a living pilot. The man, about thirty, was severely injured—blood was seeping through his jacket from his arm.

«How are you feeling?»—The nurse tried to ask.— «Hang in there a bit, I’ll go get help right now…»

The pilot tried to half-open his half-rolled up eyes, but he couldn’t manage it. Varya touched his forehead: the man was «burning» all over. Obviously, he had a very high temperature, which meant every minute of delay inevitably threatened the pilot with certain death.

«Boy…,»—he murmured deliriously,— «… There, a boy… Save him… Please…»

Varya looked around in astonishment and then noticed a chain of small tracks leading from the helicopter somewhere deeper into the forest.

«Hold on, I’ll be back soon, and we’ll definitely get you out…,»—Varya promised him, and together with Seryenki, followed the trail.

As they walked, the nurse thought about how the helicopter could have fallen so close to their village, and they heard nothing? «Well, of course, there was such a blizzard all morning,»—Varya realized,— «The wind was howling so that no other sounds could be distinguished… Now the main thing is to find the missing boy».

Fortunately, Varya found the child quickly, the little one couldn’t go far, he was sitting, huddled, under a sprawling fir tree.

The boy was silent, looking at the woman with wide frightened eyes. His cheeks were completely pale, the little guy had time to get very cold.

«My God… Kid, are you okay?»—Varya said, trying to catch her breath after running.

Instead of answering, the boy rubbed his reddened hands, he didn’t even have mittens on!

Varya picked up the child and, as fast as she could, carried him to the village, to Lyubov Ivanovna’s house. There, she explained the whole situation to her.

«Let him stay with me—warm up,»—the old woman said,— «And you run for help to the Nikiforov brothers, and they’ll bring the others. Look, I have big sleds in the barn. Strong—they’re still from my husband. Grab them, and go to the forest quickly—now every minute is precious…»

Varya did exactly as her neighbor commanded, and just a couple of hours later—the male pilot was lying in the berry and mushroom gatherer’s hut.

The young nurse provided the pilot with first aid, and Lyubov Ivanovna, meanwhile—having thrown some firewood into the stove, was already preparing a hot dinner for their little guest. In front of him was a large cup of hot tea and a plate of fresh rusks so that the boy could properly warm up and quench his hunger.

The little one still remained silent, so Varya and Lyubov Ivanovna decided that the child was in shock.

«Nothing, he’ll eat now, and the stress will lift like a hand,»—the old woman said, scooping a large portion of hot meat stew with vegetables into a deep bowl for the child.

The boy began to devour the food with appetite. «No wonder,»—the old woman thought to herself,— «poor thing, it’s unknown how long he spent under that tree!»

When he had eaten, Lyubov Ivanovna seriously looked at the little one:

«Well, dear, do you feel better now?»

The little one nodded:

«Yes. Thank you for helping and feeding me—I thought I’d die of hunger… And thank you for saving my uncle! He’s actually a very good person—just loves to take risks too much. Uncle Kostya took me for a ride on this helicopter—it’s his personal transport. He really loves the forest, so he wanted to show it to me—from a ‘bird’s-eye view’, I think it’s called… Then, we got caught in a blizzard, and the helicopter crashed… Uncle got stuck, he couldn’t get out, but I was almost unhurt. That’s when I decided to go for help—but I didn’t know where to go, and I was already very cold…»

 

 

«And where are your parents?»—Varya asked worriedly.— «They must have been looking for you already!»

«My mom died a long time ago, and I don’t have a dad,»—the little boy sadly replied.— «Uncle Kostya is raising me. And my name is Vladimir, Vladimir Smirnov. But friends and uncle just call me Vovka.»

«Well, Vovka,»—Varya said to him with a smile,— «It looks like you and your guardian will have to live with us in the village for a while until your uncle fully recovers, so it’s better not to disturb him. Let him get better first, and then we’ll see what happens.»

«Okay, I don’t mind,»—agreed the boy, and personally volunteered to wash his dishes, which greatly touched Lyubov Ivanovna.

«Oh, what a proper young boy is growing up!»—She wiped away tears stealthily.— «Kostya is lucky with the boy, no doubt…»
The blizzard outside was growing fiercer, soon completely covering the road in front of the homes of Lyubov Ivanovna and Varvara, cutting their village off from the outside world. The storm was so severe that the power lines and cell towers, rendered useless without electricity, left them unable to call for an ambulance or emergency services: rescue teams simply could not reach them. The women themselves did not dare attempt to venture anywhere beyond their village in such fierce weather. So, all they could do was look after the boy and his injured uncle.

The storm only subsided on the third day—a rescue helicopter, finally receiving the delayed distress signal from the area where Konstantin’s helicopter had crashed, began its search. However, due to a distorted signal, the coordinates sent by the boy’s father were incorrect, so the rescuers began searching in a completely different area.

Later, they established the correct crash site and flew over the village where Varvara and her neighbor lived several times. Unfortunately, Konstantin’s helicopter had been so buried during the snowfall that the rescue service could not find it…

A few weeks later, the man finally began to recover, and Varvara managed to heal him with Lyubov Ivanovna’s extensive collection of herbs and her own medical knowledge.

All the while Varvara took care of him, she felt an inexplicable excitement and trembling. She often watched Konstantin as he slept, and at those moments, her heart would beat faster.

«My God, he’s so beautiful and brave!» Varvara thought at such times. «He wasn’t afraid to fly in such difficult terrain, wanted to make a child happy! Surely, his heart must be kind… Oh, it’s a pity that in her life, she never met such a wonderful man!..»

Varvara didn’t know that Konstantin, when he saw Varvara, felt similar feelings: the young man literally felt sparks running over her, «flaring» every time the beautiful nurse touched him.

Her wonderful, honey-toned, light brown eyes looked at the businessman with such sincere care and desire to help that Konstantin sometimes felt a bit «awkward.» In his everyday life, the gaze of the women around him expressed only demands, and a cold, pragmatic approach to choosing a potential partner.

When Konstantin felt a bit better and began to slowly walk around the old lady’s house, Lyubov Ivanovna asked him why he, first of all, didn’t call for help.

«I, Lyubov Ivanovna, want to see how my security service is working,» the businessman explained to her. «After all, I’ve been neither at home nor at work for so many days, and the connection here is bad. Let’s see how my manager handles such an emergency situation and how quickly they will start searching…»

Lyubov Ivanovna shook her head and smiled:

«Well, you are sly, Konstantin! Your employees will surely be worried.»

«If they are truly worried, they will find a way to contact me,» the man nodded to her. «Judging by the fact that this has not happened yet, my deputy awaits a serious conversation when we return to the city with Vovka…»

After that, he turned to Varya and carefully took her hand. The woman immediately blushed and felt dizzy from excitement:

«Varya, I want to say a special thank you…» Konstantin blushed, and a slight flush appeared on his cheeks. «If it weren’t for you, I would have most likely perished. And what would have happened to Vovka, God… An angel sent you to me, no doubt…»

The woman lowered her gaze, unable to look the man in the eyes: at that moment, Varya suddenly realized that she was in love with this tall and strong, yet so kind and sensitive man.

«It would be to you, Konstantin… I simply did what any normal person in my place would have done. Besides, I am a nurse—it’s my professional duty…»

Varya dared to look into Konstantin’s eyes, and at that moment—her soul seemed to fill with the singing of birds: the businessman looked at her so amazingly softly and tenderly, as if she were the dearest and closest person to him. Both understood that their feelings for each other were mutual.

Konstantin couldn’t explain why he so quickly began to feel something much deeper and stronger for the nurse than mere gratitude. However, at that moment—he decided for himself that he would not miss his chance: Varya was like the only and rarest diamond among millions of bright but ordinary «glass beads.» They must be together, and he would do everything in his power to make it happen…

Once, when Konstantin was sitting in Lyubov Ivanovna’s room, trying to help the woman repair an old radio, he saw a photograph of her deceased son on the dresser. Until that moment, he had almost never entered the herbalist’s room, and had not been interested in whether she had relatives—it just wasn’t the time…

The man instantly turned pale as if he saw a ghost before him, and with a trembling hand, pointed at the photo:

«Who is this?» he asked the old lady. Hearing who the boy in the photograph was to her, Konstantin whispered: «But this cannot be! Nikita was my late sister’s fiancé.»

«What did you say?» Lyubov Ivanovna could not believe her ears. «Young man, I am too old for you to joke so cruelly with me…»

The elderly woman slowly sank onto the old couch. She put her hand to her chest, as suddenly she felt ill—her heart seemed to be pricked by a needle, and it beat too fast.

«Lyubov Ivanovna!» Varvara jumped to her side. «What’s wrong with you? Are you unwell?»

«It’s alright, Varenka… It will pass,» the old woman reassured her.

«Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,» Konstantin said cautiously, «But I am telling the truth. Your son was going to marry Natasha—my own sister. She was pregnant when Nikita died on duty… He didn’t want to live off the money of Natasha’s and my father, was always too principled… My sister could not endure the difficult childbirth, and followed him in death… Since then, I have been raising Vovka by myself… It turns out that you are my Vladimir’s biological grandmother…

«My God,» Lyubov Ivanovna said with trembling, «So, what does this mean? Vovka—my grandson??»

«It seems so,» smiled Konstantin, then turned to the boy: «Vovka, meet your biological grandmother—baba Lyuba… Will you allow him to call you that?»

«Lord, of course!» exclaimed the elderly woman and hugged the boy to her chest. «Vova, my boy! What happiness that we found each other!..»

 

Lyubov Ivanovna couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed from her eyes. Just think! She had found the direct continuation of her beloved Nikitushka—she had a biological grandson all this time! And this girl—Varya, saved him from the harsh frost. The same frost in which her beloved son could not survive…

Varya was only confused—such amazing coincidences do not happen often in life… Yet, she was immensely glad that her elderly neighbor suddenly had a biological grandson! Now, she could again feel the real «taste of life» and would live for a dear and close person…

Konstantin fully recovered a few weeks later, after which he personally called his manager, and a car was sent for the uncle and his nephew. The boy was very happy that he now had a real grandmother and promised to visit her as soon as it was possible.

The millionaire, as he promised himself—gave his heart to the attractive and kind nurse who saved him from certain death. After some time—he flew back to her in the village, bringing with him a huge bouquet of delicate peach roses.

«My God, is this—all for me?!» Varya could not believe her eyes, receiving a huge basket of flowers from Konstantin. Honestly, she had already begun to think that they would never meet again: the social gap between them was too great…

«This is the least I can do to thank you, Varya…» answered, slightly embarrassed, the businessman. «I know it may sound a bit childish, but… Maybe you will honor me—allow me to invite you on a date?»

Varya, out of confusion, did not immediately find what to answer: she certainly did not expect this turn, although she secretly hoped that Konstantin might at least write to her after his return. And here it is—flowers, a date… But in the woman’s soul, a joyful song of love and pure feminine happiness was already singing.

«Yes,» she said quietly, «Thank you, Konstantin. I am very pleased with both these flowers and your proposal…»

The man smiled, and his face immediately lit up from the inside with sincere joy. In the corners of his eyes, like warm spring rays—appeared wrinkles, and this made Konstantin even more beautiful in the eyes of our heroine…

Their first date did not remain the only one—later, the couple had many more meetings. Varvara was completely charmed by the manners and chivalrous treatment she received from Konstantin. After six months, the young people had a lavish and incredibly beautiful wedding, attended by many guests—including Lyubov Ivanovna.

The elderly herbalist was very flattered that her grandson’s uncle invited her to their wedding with Varenka. She baked a large honey cake with berries, using an old recipe, and promised to teach this wonderful bride, as Varvara and Vovka were completely delighted with the cake.

As for little Vladimir, he adapted so quickly to Varya that, just a few months after the wedding—he began to call her «mom.» And a little later, the woman told her husband and Vovka another wonderful news—she was expecting their first child.

Now, Konstantin and Varya are preparing to become parents—the husband built a new, huge house for the whole family, where he moved his beloved wife. He wanted to take Lyubov Ivanovna there, too, but she refused—she was too firmly «rooted» to her old home, and her age was not suitable for moving.

Lyubov Ivanovna joyfully spends time with Vovochka when he visits her, and often thinks about the fact that Nikita managed to do the most important thing in his life, for which she will not cease to thank him—he managed to continue his lineage.

As for Serenky, who sometimes still comes to the old lady’s house, Lyubov Ivanovna seriously believes that the soul of her son was reborn in the wolf. Otherwise, how to explain that he led Varya to the helicopter, where her grandson was with his guardian? It must have been Nikitushka—who was that very wolf..

The husband left his ex-wife a house in a remote village as an inheritance. She went to check it out — and someone was living there.»

0

Vera looked confusedly at Alexey.

«Alex, do you realize that you’re making a mistake?»

Alexey waved his hand, showing his irritation.

«Let’s skip the drama. I’m tired of your perpetually dissatisfied expression. It’s always the same. Milana—she’s entirely different. She’s like a breath of fresh air to me. And you… I’m still being too kind to you, giving you time to pack your things and find yourself a place to live. You realize you have no right to demand anything? You’ve never worked, so don’t lay claim to my money.»

 

«Alex, but you’re the one who didn’t allow me to work. You said that for a wife of someone of your status, work was inappropriate.»

«Yes, I said it because then you were my wife. But now Milana will take your place, so you’ll have the opportunity to earn a living on your own.»

Vera remembered all these words as she stood at the cemetery in front of a fresh grave. Alexey’s happiness with his new wife was short-lived—only three years. Moreover, Vera knew the last year had been unhappy. Alexey’s illness also left many questions.

She knew Alexey suspected Milana of adding something to his food or drinks. He even started his own investigation and told Vera about it, but he never completed it…

A month before his death, he came to Vera, apologized, and shared details of his life. He looked unwell, and Vera’s heart ached to see his suffering. Now she shifted her gaze to the grieving widow—elegantly dressed Milana with a dark veil over her face and a young companion supporting her by the arm.

Vera heard the whispers of those at the funeral, condemning Milana for her lack of conscience. Vera understood—the investigation needed to continue. Although Alexey had betrayed her, she still loved him. Yes, he acted like a scoundrel, but he did not deserve to die. Vera sighed and headed to the cemetery exit. At the gates, someone touched her shoulder. She turned around and saw Milana.

«I hope you realize that you won’t get anything from my husband’s will,» she said coldly.

Her face was filled with malice, though Vera had given no reason to think otherwise. They stood silently for a few moments, like two opponents ready to battle. Then Vera turned and continued on her way, hearing Milana hiss through her teeth:

«Don’t even dare try to achieve anything!»

Alexey was treated at a clinic chosen by Milana, but Vera knew that wasn’t all. It turns out, Alexey was secretly seen elsewhere, almost no one knew. Everything was shrouded in secrecy, and it seemed he realized it should not be disclosed.

«Hello? Vera Nikolaevna, you need to be present at the reading of the will.»

«The will?» Vera smiled bitterly. «Did my ex really leave me something?»

«Sorry, Vera Nikolaevna, but I can’t discuss this over the phone. Can you come?»

«Yes, of course, I’ll come,» she answered.

Vera thought with a smile: she didn’t need his money, but she was very eager to see Milana’s reaction at the reading of the will.

Milana was in a great mood. The same young man who had been supporting her smugly looked at Vera and smirked. As Vera had guessed, all the property, including real estate, went to Milana. However, at the end, the notary announced that there was one more item—a house located in a remote village a hundred kilometers from the city.

Milana laughed heartily:

«The old wife gets the old junk. But don’t worry, Vera, I won’t take that hovel from you. You have nowhere else to live, you’re renting. Now you have your own ‘apartments’!»

Vera didn’t respond, silently took the documents, and left the office. «Well, this looks like the start of a little adventure,» she thought. Getting into her car, she took another look at the address.

«I have the day off; I might as well go take a look,» Vera decided, especially since she didn’t know Alexey had a house in such a backwater.

The drive took almost three hours, she got lost twice and even started to get annoyed:

«How can the road be so poorly marked? No signs, just turns.»

Finally, she saw the needed sign:

«Finally!»

The village was odd. Just a few kilometers back, there was something resembling civilization, but here—old wooden houses, most of them abandoned. «I wonder which house is now mine?» Vera thought, checking the photo. The house was at the very end of the village. She sighed—there was no road in the village, only trampled grass and car tracks.

She drove slowly on the grass, her small car catching on bumps and roots. Stopping at the house, Vera didn’t immediately get out of the car, looking around. The house looked abandoned, except for a path leading to the porch. The grass was trampled, as if people regularly walked here, and there were tire tracks at the gates—cars sometimes came here.

«Did Alexey leave me a house with tenants?» she thought. Decisively turning off the car, Vera got out and approached the gate, which emitted a piercing creak. The unexpected sound made her jump. She stepped onto the porch. The door was unlocked, which made her smirk:

Of course, it’s a village. The house seemed empty, so the locals come in, taking whatever isn’t nailed down.

«The door isn’t locked. They took whatever they could,» Vera muttered to herself.

She pulled the door and entered the house. Then she was struck with surprise—the room smelled of freshly brewed coffee, though such a scent seemed impossible in an abandoned house. She looked around: inside, it was clean and cozy, a laptop stood on the table, the house was clearly inhabited.

«Don’t be afraid,» a familiar voice said.

Vera spun around, and… everything went dark before her eyes.

«Vera, wake up! Please forgive me for scaring you like that, but I had no other choice.»

She struggled to open her eyes. In front of her sat Alexey, and Vera herself was lying on a sofa. She raised her hand, touching him—he was alive, warm. And he looked much better than at their last meeting.

«Alex… am I dead?» she managed to say.

He smiled:

«Of course not. Nobody died.»

«Then who did we bury?» she asked, shocked.

Alexey shrugged:

«A mannequin. Very expensive and carefully made.»

Vera shook her head:

«I don’t understand. What’s going on here?»

Alexey leaned back in his chair and began to explain. Vera already guessed much of it. Milana’s lover had interned in India, and, according to Alexey, it was from there he brought the slow poison with which the doctor, chosen by Milana, gradually poisoned him.

Initially, Alexey couldn’t imagine anything was wrong. Suspicions that his wife was poisoning him appeared later, when much of his property had already been transferred to Milana.

«You understand, I had to do something to stop this. I discussed everything with Misha. Remember, he has a clinic on Vasilievsky? We decided that I needed to ‘die.’ There was a risk that at any moment Milana might decide to use the last dose of poison. Basically, everything worked out. There are just a few details left. I realize I hurt you very much and don’t deserve your help, but only you can help me.»

 

They talked until late at night. Alexey detailed his plan, and Vera immediately agreed. How could she refuse, with her living husband sitting in front of her, whom she had mourned almost every night?

They spent that night together. Vera approached her husband, and he silently pressed his nose into her hair. The only thing he said was:

«Forgive me.»

In the morning, Alexey was about to leave. Holding his hand, she quietly said:

«I forgive you.»

Vera watched with a slight smirk as Milana’s face turned red with rage:

«What new will? This is absurd! What gifts? Everything you’re listing has long belonged to me!»

«There’s a suspicion that Alexey was given some drugs. How else to explain that he transferred property to you that had already been gifted?» Vera said calmly.

Milana jumped up:

«What nonsense? What drugs? All of this is mine, and I will sell it all tomorrow!»

The notary coughed:

«Sorry, but the sale will have to be postponed. All this requires thorough investigation, and at the moment all documentation is frozen.»

Milana glared at Vera:

«You’ll pay dearly for this, and very soon!» she hissed and, grabbing her lover by the hand, suggested:

«Shall we talk?»

«Of course, let’s talk,» Vera calmly replied.

Milana smirked:

«Do you think I’ll give you anything? You’re gravely mistaken. I didn’t spend so much time on your Alexey for nothing. You’ll end up where he was.»

Vera, smirking, responded:

«Will you slowly poison me, just like him?»

Milana looked at her with interest:

«You’re smarter than I thought. Yes, I slowly poisoned Alexey to get as much as possible. But you’re of no use to me. The faster you die, the better. There are poisons in India that act instantly and leave no trace in the body. Our doctors will never detect them.»

She laughed loudly, but suddenly Alexey appeared in the room. The moment Milana’s lover almost reached Vera, Alexey struck him, knocking him out. Milana screamed in horror, seeing the one she thought was dead, and tried to escape. But she was immediately caught by people in uniform.

Vera began to tremble, and Alexey took her hand:

«Thank you. But now we have one more unfinished business.»

They went back to the notary. Judging by his reaction, he was aware of all events because he wasn’t at all surprised. Alexey transferred half of his property to Vera, which he had, then stood up and quietly said:

«Forgive me. It’s the least I could do for you. Perhaps I’ll go to the village. I don’t want to be in your sight.»

Vera aimlessly wandered around the apartment. «But why?» she thought. She should be happy: Alexey was alive, she was now very wealthy and, most importantly, an independent woman. But a void reigned in her soul. Something was wrong. And suddenly she realized: she needed Alexey, her Alex. Even if it brought pain, she still loved him.

Vera rushed out of the house, got into the car, and sped off. Now she knew exactly what she needed to do. Driving into the village, she noticed that lights were beginning to turn on in the houses. She stopped at a small elevation, caught her breath. She saw the light turn on in Alexey’s house and smiled:

«That’s good. Everything is going as it should.»

A few minutes later, she parked at the gate, turned off the engine, and got out. Her movements were mechanical, as if she was operating on autopilot. Suddenly, a thought came to her:

«What if I’m not needed? What if he doesn’t love me?»

But she immediately decided that everything would become clear now. Opening the gate, she saw him—Alexey was already coming down the steps to meet her. He approached and looked at her intently.

«Are you sure? I hurt you deeply. Such things aren’t forgiven.»

«You’re right, they’re not forgiven,» Vera replied. «But I’m willing to try.»

Alexey hugged her tightly and sighed quietly:

«Perhaps I had to go through all this to realize how much I need you. To understand that we are one whole. If you can forgive me, I promise never to let you down again.»

Vera also sighed:

 

«Alex, let’s try to forget all this. As if it never happened. We’re only 40 years old; we have a chance to start over.»

Three months later, Milana and her lover were tried. Vera couldn’t attend—she felt unwell. Alexey was very nervous, and as soon as they began to announce the verdict, he rushed home. Vera greeted him with a new, glowing smile.

«Vera, how are you?»

«Not ‘you,’ but ‘we,’» she replied with a mysterious smile.

«We? What do you mean? Did someone come?»

«Not yet, but in about seven months.»

Alexey stared at her for a long time, then, overwhelmed, asked:

«Is this a joke?»

«No, it’s serious.»

Alexey, unable to believe his fortune, lifted her into the air, spinning her around as if she were the lightest feather. Finally, putting her down, he said:

«You know, every day with you brings me more and more happiness. I thought it was impossible to be happier. But now I understand I was wrong.»

The son buried his wealthy father and learned that the will left him only a shack in the wilderness. But upon arriving there…

0

Sergey always stood out from his peers, and his father often pondered this. Pavel Ivanovich not only loved his son—he felt a deep sense of pride for him. Whenever his wife Natasha was around, he would frequently ask her:

«Why do we have such an unusual son? There has never been anyone like him in our family. Where did he come from?»

Natasha would just smile in response:

 

«Pasha, stop it! Why do you always call Sergey strange? He’s a perfectly normal modern boy: he’s into sports and interested in various things. He just prefers poetry and drawing over cars and toy guns. Does everyone have to be the same?»

Pavel Ivanovich sighed heavily:

«I hoped that as he grew older, he would become more ‘typical’ and leave these unusual hobbies behind.»

Natasha, smiling, replied:

«Pash, not everyone understands that times are changing. But the essence remains the same. Nowadays, everyone chooses their own path. And Sergey—he’s just special.»

Pavel Ivanovich avoided discussing family matters outside the home. He tried to hide his worries from Natasha so she wouldn’t be anxious. She only knew that he worked with cars and owned a dealership that sold both new and used cars. That was all she knew. For Pavel, it was important that his family lacked nothing.

When Sergey turned 15, during his birthday celebration, Natasha felt unwell. The birthday boy noticed it first. Approaching his mother, he asked worriedly:

«Mom, why are you so pale? Are you feeling ill?»

«No, no, just a bit tired,» she answered.

«Mom, why all this noise? Let’s just sit together, have some cake, and that’s it,» Sergey suggested.

«Sergey, you’ve always been against big parties, but 15 is an important milestone. Plus, you have so many friends! Everything is fine, go celebrate.»

Sergey went to join the guests, but before he did, he turned to his father:

«Dad, please keep an eye on Mom. She’s pale, and there’s sweat on her forehead. She says she’s fine, but… I’m not sure.»

Pavel Ivanovich looked at his son in surprise:

«What do you mean?»

«Just watch over her, okay?»

Pavel glanced at his wife and realized his son was right. He decided to send her to rest, explaining that they would manage on their own.

Sergey was not only scared because his mother looked unwell, but also because it was entirely unlike her to agree to rest.

Later, when the guests had left, Natasha’s condition worsened. Pavel called an ambulance. The doctors diagnosed her with a serious illness that progressed rapidly. Within three months, the disease had completely drained her. For Sergey, this was a real shock. He watched as his father, always strong and confident, became weak and lost.

One evening, noticing that his father was drinking alone in his study, Sergey decided to talk to him:

«Dad, it’s hard, I know.»

Pavel smirked, pointing at his glass:

«You mean this? Yes, it helps me forget, at least for a little while.»

Sergey took a deep breath:

«Then pour me one too.»

Pavel was outraged:

«Are you out of your mind?!»

«What should I do, Dad? You’ve found a way to comfort yourself, and I… don’t even have anyone to talk to.»

Pavel looked thoughtfully at his glass, then poured its contents into a potted plant. Sergey froze, then said:

«Mom would definitely kill you for that.»

Unable to hold back, he cried. His father approached and hugged him:

«Cry if you want. Sometimes it helps.»

 

From then on, their bond became even stronger. They became like two halves of one heart.

After finishing school, Sergey entered the Faculty of Philology, continuing to study at an art school. Although he had already graduated, he still took private lessons. Sometimes Pavel Ivanovich grumbled:

«Why don’t you choose something more ‘serious’? After all, self-esteem comes with the money you earn yourself. Why do you need these books and pictures?»

Sergey, without taking his eyes off the painting he had been passionately working on for a month, finally said:

«Why does a person need so much money?»

Pavel Ivanovich was slightly taken aback but quickly found an answer:

«With money, you can buy everything your heart desires.»

«Really? Absolutely everything?» asked the son, raising an eyebrow.

This question made the father think.

«Well… perhaps except for health… I see where you’re going. Yes, there are things that money can’t buy, but everything else is quite accessible.»

Sergey looked at his father calmly and confidently:

«Dad, if the most important things in life can’t be bought, is it worth suffering for everything else?»

Pavel Ivanovich abruptly stood up and started pacing the room nervously.

«Where do you get such thoughts? You’re just used to living without extra worries, thanks to my money!»

«Dad, what if we had none of this, but Mom was still here, wouldn’t we be just as happy?» Sergey continued softly.

A pause stretched for several seconds, after which Pavel admitted:

«Probably, yes… But that’s a different story.»

«No, Dad, you’re wrong,» the son objected.

«How can I not be?! Imagine if I die and leave you not a penny. What then? How will you survive?»

Sergey smiled:

«Dad, you’re speaking too soon! But seriously, I’ll find a job that allows me to combine earning with what I love. I’ll just continue living my life.»

An invisible chasm seemed to stretch between them, but Sergey honestly expressed his opinion, knowing his father wouldn’t be offended.

«So, you wouldn’t be upset if I left you no inheritance?» Pavel asked.

The son paused for a moment:

«No. It’s your decision, and you’ll choose those who, in your opinion, truly deserve it. You know, Dad, when I was little, I had a dream. I always imagined us living in some cozy village, away from your partners, endless negotiations, and all this business routine. Just us—all together—you, Mom, and me. Just a family. Without the extra noise.»

Pavel Ivanovich stared intently at his son’s face.

«You’re strange, Sergey. It seems like nothing really bothers you.»

«Why not, Dad? I’m very interested in many things. I like to paint, to create something eternal that will always be nearby. Look, for example, at this,» said Sergey, turning the painting toward his father.

The canvas depicted Natasha. Pavel froze, his chin quivering, tears streaming down his cheeks.

«See, Dad? We can see Mom every day and remember her alive. It doesn’t matter that she’s no longer with us. She will always be part of our life.»

«Maybe you’re right… But admit it, living without material worries is also nice,» Pavel said, wiping his eyes.

Sergey smiled:

«Of course, Dad. Who would argue with that?»
A year had passed since that conversation. Pavel Ivanovich’s business began to decline rapidly, and the situation became increasingly dangerous. He became more nervous, feeling an oppressive pressure.

«Pavel Ivanovich, are you going home today?» Regina’s voice rang out as she peered through the door.

«What? Oh yes… I’m busy now, but I’ll leave soon. You can go,» he replied distractedly.

Regina had been working with him for five years, and their relationship had long surpassed professional boundaries. Pavel fully understood that she was ready to accept his proposal, he just needed to make the move. However, he now felt an internal discomfort about the situation.

Instead of leaving, Regina decisively entered and sat opposite him.

«Pash, tell me honestly, what’s happening?»

Pavel tried to smile, though he felt increasingly tense inside.

«Nothing special, Regin. Just someone more significant decided I’m too much of an interference…»

She continued to look at him intently, demanding a fuller explanation.

«Pash…» she began, but he interrupted her.

«I want you to leave temporarily. There’s an envelope with a bonus and a voucher in the safe. It’s just in case something happens.»

Regina slightly tilted her head, surprised by his words, and was silent for a while. Then she nodded:

«Alright, Pash. When should I leave?»

«Actually, you should have left yesterday. But I managed to buy you a ticket for tomorrow’s plane.»

She stood up and headed for the exit.

«Understood, Pash. We’ll definitely talk once everything is over.»

Quietly closing the door behind her, Regina disappeared.

Sergey waited all night for his father, but he did not return. Lately, this had become the norm: Pavel was constantly tense and hardly ever appeared at home. Sergey guessed that his father had major problems, but there never seemed to be a right moment to talk. In the morning, he noticed a pistol at his father’s place, which spoke volumes—the situation was far more serious than he could imagine.

When the clock struck two in the morning and his father still hadn’t appeared, Sergey decided to distract himself by turning on the television. But his attention was immediately drawn to the news on the screen.

«A well-known businessman died as a result of his car exploding,» the announcer reported.

Sergey staggered and collapsed to the floor. The car on the screen was his father’s. His heart constricted with pain. The next day began with endless calls to hospitals, but suddenly the front door burst open. One of his father’s partners stood on the threshold.

«What’s happening? I can’t understand… He was always so strong, and now… Dad never told me anything.»

«He was under a lot of pressure, Sergey. A lot,» the partner said.

«That means he felt something but kept silent,» Sergey whispered.

Regina, standing nearby, could no longer hold back her tears. Only then did Sergey realize: her grief was equal to his own.

After the funeral, it turned out that Pavel had sold the company three days before his death. No one had even suspected. The father’s deputy, an old family friend, was shocked by this decision and repeatedly asked Sergey where the money had gone. But the son was completely helpless:

«I don’t know what happened to the company. I always stayed away from my father’s affairs. Why should I know the answers now?»

A month later, it became known that Pavel had sold all his possessions. The family friend came to his house again, cautiously hinting at a possible young mistress. Sergey just shook his head—although he guessed why Regina had been so bitterly crying.

At the reading of the will, this same friend was present, watching Sergey closely. When the notary announced that the only inheritance was an old house in a remote place, a place the son had not known about, the friend swore so loudly that the echo filled the room and he left. Sergey sighed heavily but felt a strange relief inside: life in the countryside seemed perfectly acceptable to him.

The new owners of the city house turned out to be kind people. They did not rush to evict Sergey and even allowed him to take everything necessary. They had not shown themselves at all until the will was read.

The next day, Sergey took a train. Anxiety mixed with a sense of liberation, as if he had finally found his path. When he reached his destination, dusk had already fallen. Setting down his suitcase, he decided to leave the rest of his belongings in a storage locker, checking the address and photograph of the house.

The house was exactly what he was looking for. However, climbing over the fence, he noticed a luxury car in the yard. Such a vehicle clearly did not belong to the locals. Whose could it be? Approaching closer, he saw a light in the window and peered inside. The world around him spun, and Sergey lost consciousness.

He awoke from a sharp jolt. Opening his eyes, he met the gaze of a man. Sergey wanted to sink back into oblivion, but the man spoke with a voice that could not be mistaken for a stranger’s—it was his father’s voice:

«Don’t be afraid, everything is alright, it’s really me,» said the man.

«You… You can’t be my father! I buried you with my own hands!»

«Are you sure it was really me?»

«What?! How can that be? You simply can’t be alive!»

«Listen, stop repeating the same thing! Explain, why are you so sure it’s impossible?»

«Alright… If you really are my father, what did mom call you when she was angry?»

«Carlson! Now do you believe?»

«Dad… Is it really you?»

 

Sergey cried, but he felt no shame. They sat in the yard, drank tea, and his father began his story:

«When the situation became extremely dangerous, I decided not to wait until they eliminated me. I sold everything, transferred the money to another name, and disappeared from the radars.»

«What if the truth had come out?»

«Who would look for me here, in such a backwater? After our conversation, it became clear that this house was the perfect place for a new life. Here I can engage in farming, start all over. No one will find us.»

Sergey smiled through tears.

«Everything I dreamed of… Just missing Mom. By the way… Did something happen with Regina? What’s she got to do with this?»

At that moment, a pale Regina appeared at the gate.

«Sorry… I came for Sergey. I was afraid he’d be doing badly here. I wanted to offer him to stay at my apartment. There’s enough room, and here… Sorry, I won’t intrude.»

She turned to leave.

Sergey looked at his father:

«What are you, frozen? She’s about to leave!»

Pavel Ivanovich blinked in confusion:

«But… she’s…»

«Dad, if you want her to stay, act! Opportunities like this don’t come every day.»

Regina was already approaching the gates when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning around, she met Sergey’s gaze, who nodded to her, confirming that everything was alright.

The man quickly stood up and ran after Regina. Sergey, who by then had started dozing off after the long conversation, was awakened by his father’s voice:

«Sergey!»

Opening his eyes, he saw Regina, standing next to his father; her face expressed a mix of anger and annoyance.

«You were right! We decided to get married,» Pavel announced with a broad smile.

«Not ‘we,’ you decided that alone!» Regina snorted, crossing her arms.

«Well, okay, me. But you agreed!» Pavel tried to maintain his composure.

«Of course, I agreed! How can one argue with your stubbornness?» she replied, but her voice carried warm undertones, revealing her true feelings.

Why Inna was knitting booties, she herself did not know.

0

Why Inna was knitting booties, she herself did not know… Her daughter was 40, had been widowed two years ago, and had never had children. Last year, she remarried. Her husband was younger and wanted to live for himself. Her son had long ago moved to America and had no plans to return. The nephews had grown up, but they were still too young for children. Probably just some beautiful Latvian yarn had caught her eye. She only took one skein. The colors were magical, delicate. She thought—maybe a vest for herself. She bought thin needles, a crochet hook, and started knitting.

She didn’t notice how she ended up knitting tiny booties. And there was still so much yarn left. By evening, a bonnet was ready, and the next day, pants with a bib and a little sweater were knit. Inna took out a large box of buttons, chose beautiful, tiny ones shaped like little ladybugs. Then she went to the bathroom, mixed up a wool wash in a basin, and gently washed the set, sighing, ‘I’ll die without ever holding my grandchildren in my arms.’ Inna laid the knitted items on a terry sheet spread out on the table: ‘But there is a child somewhere in the world who needs this.’ She opened her laptop and started looking for orphanages in her city. She read up. She dressed and went to the store. Bought more yarn, this time with more shades of blue, and sat down to knit again. She made a set for a boy. Then she knitted ten pairs of booties and ten warm hats. All in different colors. Inna went to the Orphanage. ‘We can’t take them without a certificate,’ the employee told her, ‘You should have brought diapers, they’re always needed.’ But Inna stood and cried. ‘Okay,’ the woman said, ‘we’ll figure something out. Come on, let’s dress them in your booties.’ Inna held the babies, kissed their tender cheeks, cooing, ‘Such little ones. They need a mother.’

 

She put booties on tiny feet, and for the older ones, she tried on the knitted hats. Then she left. Her husband came home late from work and asked how things were. She didn’t know what to say. Dinner wasn’t ready, the fridge was empty. — ‘I was knitting booties at the Orphanage. They said diapers were more needed,’ said Inna and looked at her husband. — ‘Alright,’ he replied, ‘let’s cook some potatoes, and tomorrow we’ll buy diapers.’ Inna took out a pot and started washing vegetables. ‘We won’t get a child, we’re old, I’m 61, and you’re 62.’ — ‘Maybe they won’t give us one, but they won’t nail the door shut either, we can make an arrangement. Come by, help out. And the booties, socks will be useful. — ‘There’s a pair, a boy and a girl, twins, light-haired. They’re almost 2 years old. I think the knitted suits will fit, maybe a bit big, but children grow fast. The booties will be just right, I made them in the shape of sneakers.’ — ‘Let’s go together,’ said her husband. ‘I’ll arrange it. We’ll visit.’ And he did arrange it. For four months, Inna and her husband volunteered. Inna knitted new suits and booties, for them to grow into. The twins already called her mom. But one day they came, and the children were gone.

— ‘Can you imagine, they were adopted, both of them. We made their photo in your knitted suits, and that same day, a couple called. They’ve been preparing documents for months. This morning they took them. We were afraid until the last moment that they wouldn’t want both. Inna’s tears welled up. — ‘Why are you crying, silly,’ said her husband, ‘you should be happy.’ Their daughter called, — ‘Mom, can you and dad come over? I need help.’ — ‘Is the faucet broken,’ asked Inna, ‘or did the neighbors flood you again?’ — ‘I need a bed assembled,’ replied her daughter, ‘come over, don’t call, just use your keys.’ — ‘Alright, we’ll come.’ They got in their Volga and drove. Their daughter’s three-room apartment sparkled clean. Something delicious smelled from the kitchen. Inna and her husband took off their coats and put on slippers. — ‘Wash your hands and come to the room,’ shouted the daughter, ‘I’ll be right there.’ They sat on the couch and started watching the news. Suddenly, her husband nudged her. She looked up. There in the doorway was her son-in-law—Dima. In his arms sat those very twins, dressed in the suits she’d knitted, and in little knitted sneaker-booties. The boy held a piece of apple, and the girl, with smeared cheeks, sneakily looked around and tried to bite the apple. Dima smiled.

 

— ‘I don’t even know how to say it. Anyway, you have grandchildren now. We didn’t tell you, we didn’t know if it would be possible to arrange it. Jeanne will be here soon, she’s cooking porridge for them. A flushed Jeanne ran up. — ‘Mom, dad, meet Tanya and Volodya. I saw their photo on the ‘Children Wait’ page. They’re twins, like me and my brother. And they’re wearing booties just like the ones you knitted for us. Remember, in the photo when we were 2 years old. I showed my husband the kids, and he said—’we’re taking them.’ Dima put the children down. They ran to Inna, reaching out their little hands, and screamed: ‘mama, mama!’ She hugged them and kissed them, wiping away tears: ‘I’m not your mom, I’m your grandma, granny.’ And kept repeating: ‘granny, granny, granny’ Her husband laughed: ‘And now why are you crying? Time to buy more wool.’

I begged you not to leave the room when I have guests,» Irina yelled at her mother.

0

Mom! Where are you?» the voice of her daughter, like the chirping of a bird, scattered throughout the yard.

Valentina straightened her back with effort, leaning on the ancient wooden handle of the shovel. How old was this tool? It seems Sergey himself made it, always repeating, «With a reliable tool, any job is easier.»

 

«I’m in the garden!» she responded, slowly heading towards the gate, carefully holding her lower back.

At the gate stood Irina — elegant in a light coat, on high heels. Beside her jumped Sashka, energetically waving some toy. Her son, Valentina’s grandson, remarkably resembled his father as a child — just as active, restless.

«Oh, and Sashenka came too!» Valentina opened her arms, but immediately grimaced from back pain.

«What’s wrong, mom?» Irina looked anxiously into her mother’s face.

«Oh, nothing special, daughter. My back just aches after work. I’ll walk it off—it will pass. And Andrei, is he busy again?»

«As always,» Irina slightly pursed her lips. «Stuck at work for days on end. Let’s go inside, I brought you some groceries.»

Valentina carefully ascended the porch, clinging to the railing. Each step echoed with pain, but she tried not to show it. Lately, her daughter had been watching her too closely, as if looking for some problems.

Inside, at the kitchen threshold, stood two huge bags. Valentina looked inside:

«Why so much? I can’t eat all this alone. Maybe you’ll stay with me?»

«Mom! I found my food gun! And a chamfering tool!» Sashka suddenly burst out from behind the stove, pretending to shoot.

«Stop bothering,» Irina brushed him off. «I’d like to stay, but I can’t. We’ll leave tomorrow.»

Something in her daughter’s tone made Valentina wary. After thirty-five years of motherhood, she had learned to sense when something was wrong with her children. Now her intuition suggested — this was not just a visit.

But she did not ask further. Open relations between them had ceased ever since her daughter started her own family. And Irina had a complicated character — if she planned something, she would beat around the bush until she decided to share.

«It’s warm here,» Irina leaned against the stove. «Very cozily heated.»

«The nights have become cold and damp. I’m afraid of catching a cold on my back.»

The day passed with usual chores. Sashka, having played outside, fell asleep early. And Irina couldn’t start the conversation, though Valentina noticed — she clearly had something to say.

In the evening, as they sat on the porch admiring the sunset, Irina finally decided:

«Mom, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time. Natalya and I are worried. You’re alone in such a big house…»

Valentina looked attentively at her daughter. In the twilight, her face seemed pale and tense.

«And what are you planning?» she asked softly.

«You see…» Irina stood up, slowly walked across the porch. «My sister and I decided to open a medical center. Modern, large-scale. We already have investors, a suitable building selected. But we need initial capital…»

Valentina felt her heart squeeze. Now everything became clear.

«And what does my house have to do with it?» her voice became firmer and stricter.

«Mom, don’t rush to reject the idea!» Irina sat down next to her, gently taking her hand. «Hear me out. Andrei and I bought a new apartment — four rooms. One of them will be entirely yours. The area is excellent, near a park, a clinic… And this house can be sold. The money will go into our business, and you’ll become a co-founder. Can you imagine the potential profit?»

Valentina was silent, looking at the darkening garden. There, by the old apple tree, she and Sergey once planned their future. Brick by brick, they built a house, planted trees… Every corner was filled with memories.

«Think about it, mom, don’t rush to answer,» Irina stood up. «Tomorrow I’ll bring Natalya, she also wants to talk to you.»

Valentina could not sleep that night. She wandered through the house, touching familiar walls, sinking into memories. Here Irina took her first steps, and there Natalya liked to hide when she was upset. In that corner stood Polina’s crib when they brought the granddaughter for the summer…

Closer to two in the morning, she sat down on the old sofa in the living room — the place where she and Sergey always spent their evenings, discussed the day, and dreamed of the future. Now his half remained empty.

«Seryozha,» she softly called out in the darkness, «what should I do? Remember how we started building this house? You always joked — why such a big one, we two wouldn’t fill it…»

Her hand slid over the worn upholstery:

«And then Irinka was born. Remember how you carried her in your arms, singing lullabies with your deep voice? And three years later, Natasha appeared… What a happy time!»

Outside, the night wind rustled the branches of that very apple tree they had planted when they moved here.

 

«Our girls have grown up. Maybe they’re right? You always said: help your children while you can. And I’ve become stubborn, fixated. Give me some sign, some advice on what to do…»

She fell silent, listening to the night sounds of the house. The old floorboards creaked, as if pondering along with her.

Unnoticed, she dozed off right on the sofa. A bright ray of sunlight woke her in the morning. Opening her eyes, she froze — a gust of wind had flung open an old wedding photo on the wall.

Sergey looked out from it with his special, slightly mocking glance. On the back of the frame, where the glass had cracked, the sunlight illuminated an inscription made by his hand many years ago: «The main thing is to have your soul in place. And it is there, where you are.»

Valentina pressed her palm to her chest. There it was, the sign. The house could be sold, everything could start anew. But the main thing was to preserve herself, her soul. Like then, in their youth, when she and Sergey believed only in each other and in their strength.

She stood up, straightened her shoulders. Now the decision was obvious. But she would not allow herself to become a silent shadow in someone else’s home. Sergey would have understood her. He always did.

By morning, everything was decided. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the only right way.

The children had grown up, they needed help. And the house… The house was just walls. The main thing was to preserve the family.

Natalya arrived by noon. The younger daughter seemed tired, sunken. It was evident that she was worried.

«Mommy, I’m sorry that it all happened so suddenly,» she began, embracing her mother. «But this is a unique chance for all of us! We’ve long wanted to open our own clinic…»

«I agree,» simply replied Valentina.

Both daughters froze, not believing their own ears.

«Really?» Irina beamed. «Mom, you won’t regret it! We’ll organize everything, you’ll live in luxury!»

The move was scheduled for a month later. Valentina methodically packed things, wrapped up photos, sorted through years of accumulated trinkets. Some she gave away to neighbors, some she threw away. Each day made the house more empty, more foreign.

Irina’s new apartment turned out to be spacious and bright indeed. A separate room was prepared for Valentina with expensive furniture. Everything new, modern, comfortable.

At first, it seemed that everything would work out well. Valentina helped around the house, walked with Sashka, sometimes looked after Polina when she came from her art school. But soon cracks began to show.

First, there were small misunderstandings. Irina frowned if Valentina, out of old habit, got up at five in the morning and clattered dishes in the kitchen. Andrei scowled if she forgot to turn off the light in the hallway.

Even Sashka, who joyfully greeted his grandmother at first, now increasingly locked himself in his room with a tablet.

«Mom, why did you start a general cleaning again? We have cleaning services on Thursdays,» Irina irritably adjusted the flowers that Valentina had just arranged. «And these vases… they don’t match the interior.»

Valentina remained silent.

These vases belonged to her—the only thing she took from the old house besides personal belongings. Old, with peeling paint, but so dear. And Irina preferred glass ones, «in the Scandinavian style.»

Business at the medical center progressed slower than anticipated. Irina often came home tired, easily lost her temper. Natalya called less and less—too busy, on duty. When Valentina tried to inquire about affairs, her daughters evaded answers or changed the subject.

And then «receptions» began.

Irina and Andrei regularly hosted business evenings, inviting business partners. On such days, they asked Valentina to stay in her room to not embarrass the guests.

«You see, mom, these are important people,» Irina explained. «We need to show a certain level. And you… well, you know yourself. You have your habits, your style of communication.»

One evening, Valentina accidentally overheard a conversation. She was heading to the kitchen for water when voices from the living room reached her.

«…and what am I to do?» Irina’s voice was louder than usual. «She ruins everything! Imagine, yesterday in front of Roman Sergeevich, she started talking about her garden! And he’s an investor, by the way!»

«And what about Natalya?» asked someone’s female voice.

«Natalya?» Irina bitterly chuckled. «My little sister is busy with her problems. Her husband is against mom moving in with them. And I’m supposed to pull everything on my own?»

Valentina froze by the wall, feeling her hands treacherously tremble. The glass accidentally hit the umbrella stand, and silence instantly reigned in the living room.

«Mom? What are you doing here?» Irina came out into the hallway, her face flushed.

«I came to get some water,» Valentina replied quietly.

«I asked you not to leave your room when I have guests!»

That night, Valentina couldn’t sleep. She lay staring at the ceiling, thinking: how did it happen that her girls, her little ones, became so alien? She remembered how little Irina ran to her with scraped knees, and Natalya cried, burying her face in her shoulder when she didn’t get into the institute the first time.

The next morning, Natalya called.

«Mom, how are you?» her voice sounded guilty. «Ira told me that you talked yesterday.»

«Everything’s fine, daughter,» Valentina tried to speak calmly. «How are you? It’s been a long time since you visited.»

 

«Mom…» Natalya paused. «Maybe you’ll stay with us for a bit? Take a break from Irka’s business meetings.»

Valentina closed her eyes. There it was, what she had feared from the beginning.

Natalya’s apartment was in an old five-story building on the outskirts of the city. Two rooms, a tiny kitchen. Viktor, Natalya’s husband, greeted her coolly—muttered «hello» and went into the bedroom.

«Don’t mind him,» Natalya whispered. «He’s just tired. Make yourself comfortable in the living room, I’ll set up the sofa for you.»

But Valentina saw that her daughter was clearly not happy with the situation. Natalya constantly apologized—either for the cramped space or for the neighbors who were noisy. Viktor demonstratively ate in the room, not approaching the common table. In the evenings, his dissatisfied muttering: «When will this end?» echoed off the walls, making the space even more cramped.

After a week, Valentina realized: a decision had to be made. She couldn’t be a burden to her own children. She packed her few belongings in an old bag and went for a walk to think.

Her legs led her to the city park. She sat on a bench, watching mothers with strollers. A nearby elderly couple—an old man with a cane and a woman in a bright scarf—settled next to her.

«Excuse me, may I sit down?» asked the woman. «My legs are just not listening to me.»

«Of course,» replied Valentina. «It’s hot today.»

«Yes, indeed,» the woman pulled out a bottle of water. «Would you like a drink? You look a bit pale.»

A conversation ensued. Galina Mikhailovna and Nikolai Petrovich turned out to be surprisingly pleasant companions. They mentioned that they owned a small house on the outskirts—they used to live there themselves, now they rent it out.

«The last tenants moved out a month ago,» Galina Mikhailovna sighed. «A pity, they were good people. We don’t rent it out for money—just so the house isn’t empty. Now we live in an apartment ourselves, moved closer to the children.»

Valentina listened and felt warmth in her chest. Maybe… maybe this was a sign?

«And you… you’ve found new tenants already?» she asked, surprising herself with her decisiveness.

Galina Mikhailovna looked attentively at the new acquaintance:

«Are you interested?» she turned to her husband. «Kolya, what do you think?»

Nikolai Petrovich gave her a thoughtful look:

«The house is small but sturdy. Two rooms, a kitchen, a veranda. There’s a garden, though it’s overgrown…»

«A garden?» Valentina’s voice trembled.

«Yes, old apple trees, currants…» Galina Mikhailovna suddenly fell silent. «Wait, are you… you’re Valya? Valentina Petrovna?»

Valentina looked up in surprise:

«Yes, but how do you…»

«My God!» exclaimed Galina Mikhailovna. «Kolya, it’s Sergey Nikolaev’s wife! The one who worked in engineering at the factory? We used to go to demonstrations together!»

Nikolai Petrovich squinted:

«That’s right… And your daughters—Irina and Natalya? Irka always played with my calculator when we gathered.»

The world suddenly seemed incredibly small and warm. They talked until evening. Remembered mutual friends, factory holidays, youth… Valentina learned that Galina Mikhailovna’s and Nikolai Petrovich’s children had long moved to another city, calling them to join, but the old couple didn’t want to leave their native places.

«You know what,» Galina Mikhailovna spoke decisively as the sun began to set. «Let’s go, take a look at the house. It’s nearby, we’ll get there by bus.»

The house turned out to be small but exceptionally cozy. Whitewashed walls, blue trim, a sturdy porch. And most importantly—the garden. Large, overgrown, but alive and breathing life. Valentina slowly walked among the apple trees, gently touching the rough trunks, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

«Doesn’t it fit?» Galina Mikhailovna was concerned.

«What are you…» Valentina shook her head. «On the contrary. It just reminds me so much of my old house…»

That same evening she called Natalya:

«Daughter, don’t worry. I’ve found a place where I’ll live.»

«What do you mean?» anxiety sounded in her daughter’s voice. «Mom, what are you planning?»

«I met some good people. They rent a house, there’s a garden. The cost fits my pension.»

«What house? Who are these people?» Natalya raised her voice. «Mom, you can’t live alone!»

«Why not?» Valentina replied calmly. «I’ve lived in my own house all my life and somehow managed.»

«But… but…» Natalya stumbled. «Wait, I’ll call Ira, let her explain to you.»

Irina rushed over within an hour. Burst into Natalya’s apartment, not even greeting Viktor:

«Mom, stop this immediately! What house are you talking about? We didn’t start all this for you to wander around strange corners!»

«And for what then, daughter?» Valentina looked her in the eyes. «So that I’d sit locked up and not embarrass you in front of important guests?»

Irina recoiled:

«You… you know?»

«Yes, I know,» Valentina nodded. «And about your conversations regarding where to ‘place’ me, I’m also informed.»

«Mom…» Natalya stepped forward. «We did everything for your good…»

«I understand, girls. Really, I understand,» Valentina smiled sadly. «But you’re different now. You have your own life with your own rules. And I… I can’t change anymore. And I don’t want to.»

She took out a worn envelope from her bag:

«Here, take it. These are the documents for the old house. Sell it, build your center. My pension will be enough.»

«Mom, please…» Irina began.

 

«No, daughter. I’ve made a decision.»

A week later, Valentina moved into the house of Galina Mikhailovna and Nikolai Petrovich. They helped her settle in, brought old furniture from the attic, even provided a TV— «it was just sitting idle anyway.»

And the garden… the garden came to life. Day after day, Valentina cleared the overgrowth, tied branches, weeded grass. Her hands remembered this work, her body rejoiced in familiar movements. In the evenings, the owners often dropped by—just to sit on the porch, talk about life.

The daughters appeared two months later. They came together, silent, guilty. Irina started immediately:

«Mom, we have problems. The bank denied the loan, investors backed out…»

«And now?» asked Valentina, pouring tea into old cups.

«The money from the house… it…,» Natalya lowered her gaze. «In short, it didn’t work out. Forgive us, mommy.»

Valentina looked closely at her daughters. Irina, always so confident, now seemed small and lost. Natalya nervously crumpled a napkin, like in childhood, when she got bad grades.

«Well,» Valentina finally said. «Then it was meant to happen.»

«You… you’re not angry?» Irina asked in surprise.

«Of course, I’m angry,» Valentina sighed. «But you’re my daughters. Where can I go from you?»

«Mom,» Natalya raised her tearful eyes. «Maybe you’ll come back? We’ll figure something out…»

«No, girls,» Valentina replied firmly. «I’m fine here. I’ll take care of the garden, there will be apples—come visit with the grandchildren.»

They sat on the veranda for a long time. Talked—for the first time in a long time openly and honestly. And in the garden, the leaves of the apple trees rustled, promising a rich harvest, and from somewhere came the bitter smoke—Nikolai Petrovich was heating the sauna next door.

When she saw off her daughters in the evening, Valentina went out to the garden. Sat on an old bench, closed her eyes. And suddenly felt—she was home. Not in the house that was sold, not in Irina’s apartment, not at Natalya’s. But here, among the apple trees and currant bushes, next to these amazing people, formally strangers, but who had become almost family in spirit.

Somewhere above, an apple fell, thudding against the ground.

Valentina picked it up, wiped it on her skirt. Firm, ripe. There would be something to treat the grandchildren when they visit.

And they would definitely visit…