— When was the last time there was a chair?” the handsome nurse looked sternly at Elena. She had turned and leaned against the wall.
“— So, when then,” he repeated. “— A lying down is bound to get delayed, and nothing should remain lying, while we’ll fix everything else.”
Elena had been lying down for a week after the accident. No one visited her, and she didn’t feel like chatting with anyone.
“— Damn,” the man said confidently, “we’ll struggle through this together.”
“— And what are we going to do together?” Elena whispered, emphasizing the word “together.”
“— A clisma, baby.”
And so their relationship began – with clisma and conversations about how to adjust the chair. Artyom had been studying at an institute and, in the evenings, worked as a nurse in a hospital. The nurses adored him. Nowadays, young Artyom worked as a nurse; his colleagues congratulated each other. He had always been businesslike and polite, exuding warmth and confidence.
Gradually, Elena recovered, coming to her senses. She began chatting with the neighbors and reflecting on the future. A month later she was discharged. At the corridor, she saw Artyom and, looking at him with wide eyes, silently asked – what now? Instead of answering, he hugged her and pressed her to his broad chest, tenderly and protectively.
She never married him, but Artyom nearly moved into her apartment, taking care of the household. Together with another friend, he refurbished her car. Her neighbors envied her. He graduated from the institute, continued his further education, and worked as a surgeon. Elena marveled at this unexpected kindness. In her neighborhood – the very place where she had once practiced professional dance – the same hall from which she had once been flung straight onto a hospital bed, an act that was not acceptable, indeed unthinkable.
Everyone wanted to be first; the weak and the defeated were not remembered. And Artyom received calls from former patients who asked if there was anything they could help with. They brought things, delivered things, helped out. Even Elena’s neighbors began to tease Artyom with affectionate winks, but he did not react. He was falling in love with Elena.
Her superiors and patients valued him; he was making connections and socializing. Gradually, everything began to fall into place. He hesitated to propose to her, seemingly sensing what her answer would be. Elena did not want to marry. It all seemed to her like nothing more than a temporary setback, and Artyom was merely a passing episode in her life.
Elena’s grandmother fell ill. She seemed to have lost her wits and reverted to a childlike state. Her care required constant attention. Washing a bedridden person was not as simple as it appeared. And, as always, Artyom came to help, providing the elderly lady with dignified care. She spent her last two years in warmth, cleanliness, and care. Elena rarely visited her. Before her passing, the grandmother told Elena that she had another granddaughter, Elena’s second cousin, and a great-granddaughter who needed help.
“Find them and help, it’s all my fault before Marina,” the old lady whispered fervently, clutching Artyom’s and Elena’s arms. Artyom immediately agreed, but Elena remained silent. She knew nothing of any such sister, and the idea did not interest her. Looking into Elena’s eyes, the grandmother repeated – “Find Marina, your sister, and help her and her niece. Only under this condition do I bequeath the apartment to you.”
Elena nodded. The grandmother did not leave any condition about helping any Marina, and the apartment was calmly sold by Elena. She deposited the money into her account. Some time later, Artyom suddenly told her, “I found Marina. She has a little daughter, five years old, named Katya. They live in another city; I suggest we visit them.”
“— I’m not going anywhere,” Elena replied.
Artyom left alone, his return was silent and somewhat estranged. Elena did not ask any questions. New horizons opened for her. She ran a dance studio. Things were just beginning; there was plenty of work. But a week later, Artyom left again and returned with a little girl.
Elena was frightened when she saw her.
“— A bunny’s lip,” explained Artyom, “everything can be fixed.” He continued, “Marina is in the hospital; the little girl will stay with us for now.”
Elena wished she could run away somewhere—to escape from seeing that little girl. Katya hid in a room and played with a doll. “Mommy, mommy, did you hear me?” Elena pleaded.
“— So, either you take the little girl back or leave with her.”
In the morning, Artyom and Katya left. In the evening, he did not return. Elena stopped calling; they had already scheduled dance classes, and there were plenty of problems. After a month, he called and suggested meeting. Elena waited, expecting apologies and gifts.
“— Look, Elena, no more words. Marina has passed away. I propose to you formally adopt Katya, or at least assume guardianship, but only on paper. I’ll take care of the little girl.”
Elena burst into tears.
“— What are you suggesting? I’m 26 years old, and for me to take on such a burden – someone else’s child with a physical defect?”
“— I promise you, the girl will live with me. I bought an apartment. It won’t affect you at all; you will simply arrange all the paperwork.”
Elena refused.
“— Do you understand that Katya will have to be sent to an orphanage? She’s five years old, children are cruel, and she will be tormented there. She has already suffered so much; at least show some kindness.”
“— I’ve already told you no. And no more discussing this with me.”
Elena left, determined to erase Artyom and that little girl from her memory. Several years later, while walking in a park, she saw a family. A man appeared vaguely familiar. She took a closer look. It was Artyom. Next to him walked an attractive young woman, and both held a little girl by the arms.
The pretty little girl laughed merrily as she looked around. She glanced at Elena and hid behind her mother.
“— Artyom?” she asked uncertainly.
“— Ah, it’s you. Hello. Anechka, go ahead. I’ll catch up with you,” he said.
“And who is Anechka?”
“— That’s my wife and our daughter, Katya.”
It turned out that Katya had been sent to an orphanage, but Artyom had quickly married a woman who had long been in love with him. He immediately explained to Anna that the sole condition would be to take Katya in and adopt her. And so they did. They fixed his lip.
Now the charming little girl was the apple of everyone’s eye. And Elena still felt utterly alone. Working in the studio had grown tiresome, there wasn’t enough money, and no one invited her to marry. A new chapter in her life never came. There was neither Artyom nor little Katya in her anymore.
