Kristina took her coat off the hanger and started putting it on.
“Why are you always in such a rush?” a colleague asked.
“Mash, you know Anna Fyodorovna is waiting for me at home,” Kristina replied, turning to her friend.
Masha smirked.
“You’re strange, Kris. She’s not even a relative of yours, and her son made your life pretty miserable. And now you spend all your days looking after an old woman?”
Kristina smiled warmly.
“Anna Fyodorovna is a wonderful person. She has no one but me. I won’t abandon her, no matter what you think. And why do you care, anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t, really. It doesn’t matter. It’s just a pity—you’ll be forty any day now.”
“So what? I’m fine with my life.”
Kristina stepped outside and drew in the fresh, frosty air, thinking about Anna Fyodorovna. If she was feeling all right today, she’d light the stove herself. But what if her blood pressure had spiked again? She needed to hurry.
Kristina quickened her pace toward the bus stop.
Her house was small, but it was hers. Good thing she’d managed to buy it after her late husband left them without an apartment.
Checking the time, Kristina saw the minibus would arrive in twenty minutes. That meant she could make it to the pharmacy. She’d gotten her paycheck today, and they needed to buy medicines. Anna Fyodorovna had some in reserve, but it was better to have more.
“Hello, Kristinochka! How is Anna Fyodorovna doing?” asked the elderly pharmacist, who used to live next door to her mother-in-law.
“Hi, Nina Petrovna. Same as always.”
“Oh, Kristinochka, you sure ‘got lucky’—having to take care of your mother-in-law.”
“It’s all right,” Kristina answered with a faint smile.
After picking up the medicine and thanking the pharmacist, Kristina left the pharmacy and involuntarily let out a deep sigh. Anna Fyodorovna had confided in her that Stepan wasn’t her biological son, but adopted. Kristina had learned this after his death.
She remembered that sorrowful day well. Back then they were living in a little house because Stepan had talked her into selling the apartment and investing the money in a risky venture that ended up wiping out their funds and saddling them with hefty debts.
Both Anna Fyodorovna and Kristina had cried openly. The threatening phone calls forced them to act. Stepan left in the morning and was gone all day. Kristina decided that as soon as the money came back, she would file for divorce.
But fate had other plans. Around eight in the evening, men in uniform knocked on the door. Instead of paying the debt, Stepan had tried to win it back at a casino, lost even more, and, as he was leaving the place, was hit by a car.
They detained the people responsible for his death, but that didn’t change the fact—Stepan was gone, there would be no money, and the apartment was lost.
Kristina remembered Anna Fyodorovna’s tears vividly. Then they sat down facing each other, and her mother-in-law began to tell her story.
“Thirty-five years ago, when I was about to turn thirty, I was engaged to a wonderful man. And I had a friend Sasha, closer than anyone. I was going to marry Nikolai, but she liked him too. She decided to turn us against each other. When Nikolai left for a work rotation, Sasha got pregnant and claimed the child was his. If only you knew, Kristina, how I loved him! I packed my things, wrote him a letter saying I was getting married, and left. I came back only five years later, when I heard Kolya had left her and gone far away. Sasha lived a restless life: men came and went often. But I felt sorry for her and her son. Then Sasha fell ill, and the doctors weren’t optimistic. I took her Styopa in because I couldn’t leave him alone. Before she died, Sasha asked me to promise I wouldn’t abandon the boy. But I wouldn’t have anyway—I’d grown attached to the child. And when Sasha closed her eyes for the last time, she whispered: ‘Forgive me, Anya, the child isn’t Kolya’s.’”
Kristina was stunned; the tears wouldn’t come. Anna Fyodorovna, however, cried softly, as if freeing her soul from a heavy burden.
“From then on, Stepan and I lived together,” the woman went on. “I can’t say why he became the way he did. I tried my very best, but I suppose his genes did their work. Forgive me, Kristinochka, I should have told you this right away.”
At the funeral, Anna Fyodorovna had a stroke. Everyone they knew advised Kristina to place her in a specialized facility, insisting she would never recover and that an outsider had no obligation to care for her. Even Anna Fyodorovna, once she regained her speech, urged it. But Kristina wouldn’t listen to anyone. She believed that Anna Fyodorovna would get better and they would stay together. The doctors waved it off as unrealistic.
After that conversation, Kristina asked just one question:
“Did you ever try to find Nikolai?”
Anna Fyodorovna only shook her head.
“There’s no point. He probably has another family by now.”
By the time Kristina reached the stop, the minibus had arrived. Settling by the window, she could finally relax.
The cold was intensifying, and on the outskirts you could feel it especially sharply. Kristina turned up her coat collar and walked faster toward home.
Rounding the corner, she felt relieved to see smoke coming from their chimney—so, Anna Fyodorovna had lit the stove.
But a pricey car by the gate caught her attention. It must have been there for a while; frost had formed on the hood. Who could it be?
Since Stepan had disappeared more than three years ago, it seemed unlikely the creditors would come demanding their money again. Then again… they might have remembered the debt.
Kristina quickened her step, then broke into a run. Anna Fyodorovna was in no state to deal with uninvited guests. Why hadn’t she called? Anxious thoughts churned in her head.
Throwing the door open, Kristina burst into the house. What she saw was nothing like the frightening scenarios she’d imagined. In the kitchen sat a rosy-cheeked, refreshed-looking Anna Fyodorovna with a cup of tea. Across from her was a man who, despite his age, still had an air of charm and dignity. And another—young, about Kristina’s age. They all turned toward her, and Anna Fyodorovna said joyfully:
“Kristinochka, there you are! Kolya found us. Can you believe it? That very same Kolya! And this is his son, Edik.”
Kristina froze, then said quietly:
“Hello… I’m very glad to see you.”
Within minutes she was already setting the table. Edik offered to help.
“You wouldn’t believe how nervous Dad was on the way here! I’ve never seen him like this,” he said.
Kristina smiled.
“I’ve only heard this story once. But it seems Anna Fyodorovna still remembers it.”
Eduard smiled back.
“To be honest, I never believed in love. Now all my convictions are shattered. How much time has passed? Kristina, you’re not her blood daughter, are you?”
“No, to her I’m… not exactly family. I’ll explain later.”
The guests stayed with them for a week. When it was time to leave, Nikolai said:
“In a month I’ll come back for you, Anya. And that’s not up for discussion. Whether we have five, ten years left— even just one—we’ll be together. I’ll arrange everything. Kristina, I’m counting on you to come with us. There’s nothing really keeping you here, is there? And we have plenty of opportunities.”
Kristina shook her head and noticed Eduard’s intent gaze that sent pleasant shivers through her. What did that mean? She was surprised at her own reaction to this man she barely knew.
A few days later at work, Kristina was startled by a courier who appeared at the door with an enormous basket of flowers.
“Are you Kristina Savelyeva?” the courier asked, and she nodded, slightly embarrassed.
“Please sign here,” he said, set the flowers on her desk, and quickly disappeared down the corridor.
As soon as he left, her colleague Masha came over, examined the bouquet closely, and smirked.
“Well, well! Kristina, so you’re quite the dark horse. What’s all this about?”
Masha looked at Kristina with a mix of puzzlement and a smile. She’d been sure nothing out of the ordinary had happened in Kristina’s life for ages—and now flowers! Romance!
“I don’t know, maybe it’s some kind of mistake,” Kristina said with a shrug.
Then she found the little card attached to the flowers and realized the gift was from Eduard. Kristina blushed with embarrassment.
That night, toward dawn, she realized her sleep time was almost over and she had spent nearly the whole night daydreaming.
And the next morning, more flowers were delivered to the office. Her colleagues were already giving her odd looks, thinking she was ordering bouquets for herself to make it seem like she had a suitor.
Masha tactfully didn’t pry, and Kristina decided to let it be and not invent explanations.
As New Year’s approached, work was a whirlwind, and Kristina was pulled into the routine too. But the report just wouldn’t come together, and the boss made it clear it had to be finished, even if it meant staying till midnight. Suddenly someone exclaimed, “Found it!” and everything was wrapped up in minutes. Her colleagues happily rushed outside, and Kristina hurried home, clinging to her last chance to dress up and finish her pre-holiday errands.
Seeing the familiar car, Kristina stopped, slightly surprised. Masha squinted suspiciously when she saw Eduard get out of the car with white roses. Their coworkers watched with curiosity.
Eduard handed Kristina the bouquet.
“Looks like you’ve been swamped with work! Anna Fyodorovna and I are worn out from chopping salads, and Dad’s been kneading cake dough all day.”
Kristina laughed and, unexpectedly, hugged Edik.
“Well, if not this year, then next year we’ll definitely get everything done!”
Eduard helped her into the car, and it glided off, leaving a trailing ribbon in the snow. Masha exclaimed:
“Tanya, did you really think she was buying those flowers for herself?”
Tanya said nothing. Masha added:
“Be happy for others, and happiness will surely come to you too. Looks like Kristina’s going to have quite an unusual holiday this year.”
Kristina never went back to work and submitted her resignation. The boss accommodated her and waived the required notice period. She decided to sell the house, and before leaving, she visited Stepan’s grave.
“Forgive me, I won’t be coming again,” she whispered softly.
Anna Fyodorovna and Eduard stood a little way off. Anna asked:
“Edik, what made us come earlier than planned? We agreed on a month.”
Nikolai’s voice sounded from behind them:
“He couldn’t get any peace—stopped sleeping and eating. All he talked about was Kristina. I figured we’d better go sooner, before he lost his mind.”
